Datasets:

---

diwank

/

writingprompts-10k-chatml

like 0

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You find out that you have been playing life on 'difficult' and have just switched to 'easy'.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Dave finished his $7 steak and diet Coke, a bit more enthusiastically then he ever remembered. He went to his room, taking off his belt on the way. When he got there, he took off his khaki pants and unbuttoned his shirt, sighing as he climbed into his bed and closed his eyes. \n\nSomething was wrong. \n\nHe wasn't sleeping. \n\nDave opened his eyes and sat up in bed. Every Thursday night for three months, he ate a steak, drank a soda and immediately went to sleep. He was always so tired, but not tonight. Of course he wouldn't be tired tonight. He climbed out of bed and stood by his dresser, thinking to himself.\n\nHe was right to do what he did. Going through life burdened, like he was playing it on hard mode, he was right to unburden himself. To push the boulder away and walk alone up the hill. To switch life to easy difficulty. He deserved it. \n\nThe phone rang. \n\nDave grabbed it off the receiver before the first ring ended. \"Hello?\" \n\n\"Dave?\" His mom. \"It's mom.\" \n\n\"Hey ma, why are you calling me so late?\" Dave checked the clock. 10:00 PM. \n\n\"I just wanted to see if you remembered to pick up your gramma's medicine. She needs it tonight and tomorrow morning, you know.\" Dave resisted an urge to throw the phone at the wall. \"Did you give her the medicine yet, Dave? She also needs some money for bingo night, every Friday, make sure you drive her there tomorrow.\" \n\nDave waited a second to remain calm. \"Yes. Gave it to her right after dinner.\" \n\nHis mom made her usual goodbyes and hung up. Dave put the phone back down, gently, too gently, and laid back in bed. He turned to the motionless lump next to him, under the covers. \n\n\"Even now, you hold me down.\" Dave sighed. \"What am I going to do with you?\"\n\n", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " The goddesses of the Greek pantheon have grown irritated with Zeus's antics. They've decided to punish him by transforming him into a human woman for 100 years.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Whenever my grandmother got angry, it was like there was lightning all around her.\n\n\"This yoghurt is flavorless! What does this company think, that I eat yoghurt for the *texture*?\"\n\nMy mother used to tell me she had mellowed out since she herself was a little girl. I never quite believed her.\n\nI remember asking her for help drawing up our family tree for a school assignment. She'd had a couple of glasses of wine and clapped her hands together like a rockstar on stage before throwing everything she had into a fairly strange doodle. Satisfied, she said, \"There's our family tree.\"\n\n\"That looks more like a ... building.\"\n\nMy mother laughed. \"A tree can't be a building?\"\n\nI didn't know what to say.\n\n\"Look. The pillars came out real nice, didn't they?\"\n\nShe had drawn some cylinders with squiggles on them on top of which was a triangle. \"Maybe I'll ask dad if he can help me,\" I offered.\n\n\"No, no, no. I'm not joking around. This is our family tree. Wait, I'll get your grandmother.\"\n\nMy mother wheeled her into the living room and it didn't even interrupt grandma from her knitting. Did she even know someone had moved her?\n\n\"Look,\" said my mother. \"Calista wanted to know about her ancestry. I drew her a map.\"\n\nGrandma frowned and put down her knitting tools. She lowered her glasses over her eyes and took a look. Suddenly, she froze. \"Basilia! What are you thinking? Don't fill Calista's head with that nonsense.\"\n\n\"It's not nonsense!\" my mother countered. \"Remember when you told me? After having a bunch of these?\" She pointed to her glass of wine.\n\nGrandma sighed. \"Fine. Calista, you want to know about your history?\" She took the glass from my mother's hand and had a sip.\n\nShe looked at me as if she was high up on some mountain, staring down at a pitiful creature. Sort of unsure, I nodded.\n\n\"That--\" she said and pointed to the drawing, \"--is the Pantheon.\"\n\nI tried the word out a few times. It had a funny feel to it. \"Is it a village?\" I tried. \"In ... Greece?\" I hadn't been given many details, but I deeply suspected our family to be Greek. Well, we were the Smiths. Which didn't quite fit with my theory. But still.\n\nGrandma cackled and wiped a tear. \"A village! The great Pantheon. Den to pistevo! No, child. The Pantheon is a symbol. The symbol of my home.\"\n\nI got an F on my assignment. When mom wheeled my grandma through the hallways of my school, it felt like the building might spontaneously tear itself apart. The day afterward, my teacher changed my grade to an A. His face was pale as marble. When I asked him why, he just said, \"Y-Your grandmother explained some things to me. I am deeply sorry.\"\n\nShe has been gone for a long time now, but I think she's still around. One day, I heard some strange noises from the kitchen and I opened the door to find my mother arguing with an eagle. \"The neighbors are going to think we're crazy! We can't have big birds flying around inside. What if someone saw you through the window?\" The eagle brought its beak to my mother's glass of wine and drank from it. My mother didn't seem to mind. \"And what about Calista? She wouldn't understand.\" She sighed. Then she saw me.\n\nThe eagle fluttered about in a less than elegant fashion, crashing into our refrigerator. My mother patted its bald head and opened a window. The eagle fled and my mother flashed me an awkward smile. \"How ... much of that did you hear?\"\n\n\"Enough,\" I told her.\n\nWe didn't speak of it again.\n\nSome days, when there's a thunderstorm, I think of my grandmother. I see her knitting in her wheelchair with furrowed brows. I see her eating yoghurt with the scrutiny of a sommelier. I see her as an eagle, soaring across the skies and keeping watch over us.\n\nI hope she's happy, back home in the Pantheon.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Your parents are super scientists, globe-trotting heroes who save the world from repeated disaster. They had very high hopes for you, but you turned out average. At least, that's how you skewed the test results. You've got a good reason for playing dumb, though.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": " ‘They must *never* know…’\n\nAs you might’ve known right now, I am the son of Jamie Newton and Dara Newton, Favian Newton.\n\nMy name itself means ‘man of wisdom’, denoting the lofty aspiration of my parents. And I once aspired to reach their hopes and dreams, but life is such an ironic phenomena. I would had never thought that I, their one and only son, would reach an intelligence I believe to be unmatched even to the world’s greatest minds. I might be ‘a frog inside a well’, but who cares. A skewered belief is infinitely better than the life I would’ve had if I exhibited my intellect from an early age.\n\nI never had childhood amnesia… So the memories, up to the day of my birth till the checking of my test papers now, seems like bright as day to the growing me. \n\n“Favian, 30 out of 50,” a teacher announced. \n\nYes, yes. I’m a failure, hear that shit all through half of my life. Hoooo, I’m so scared of the peer pressure of my parents. I should be this, I should be that.\n\nI stood up from my seat and took my test paper from the hands of Ms. Clara. \n\nAaahhhhh, those piercing eyes filled with disappointment, never have I seen such shadow of exasperation and discontent as the eyes of Ms. Clara.\n\nI took hold of my papers, and I noticed a note attached to it.\n\n‘Meet me at the teacher’s office later.’ The note said.\n\nHeh. Okay then, seems like I won’t be going home early today, better.\n\nAfter class was over, I was taking my time of the world going from the classroom to the teacher’s office. Observing the cellular respiration happening in front of my eyes, to the ever changing force of buoyancy due to the rotational stability of leaves falling upon the pond. I was marvelling all the sensation of the natural world, I desire a life like this. Alas, I am the son of the Newton’s, a shackle of an average joe like me.\n\nFinally arriving at the teacher’s office, which should have only taken me 2 minutes tops but I took half an hour, the first scene I witnessed was the huge frown of Ms. Clara’s face. \n\n“Go-good day, Ms. Clara.” I said with a buckling tone. I stood beside the doorway, waiting to be sitted in front of her desk, my legs shook and my eyes wanders, looking scared as an average kid should be when called to the office.\n\n“Sit down, Favian,” she said, her eyes still glaring from her photochromic eyeglasses. \n\nI sat down at a cushioned chair. The rays of sunlight glaring strong.\n\nI raised my hand to ask permission to turn the gliders, “Um, Ms. Clara, may I –“ but cut-off with a bellow, “Favian, Nester, Newton! What are these abysmal scores? Explain yourself!”\n\nYes… I had another word included in my name, Nester. A traveller in meaning, but a ruler in thought. A name derived from the legendary ruler who helped the Greeks win the Trojan war. Jokingly, I was coined a pioneer through the name of Nester, a pioneer to the backwaters of mediocrity and idiocy. It seems my family’s history was filled with Greats that willed the world to greater heights than when they entered it, and I was the only descendent from my family tree to be so, average. Even the most ordinary of my cousins are above average when compared to the world’s mean level of IQ.\n\nOh, what about Ms. Clara? I let her continue talking, this was not the first time I was called to her office. I have undergone this façade numerous times. She would not stop from asking about the scores, then ‘Explain yourself!’ It would continue down to my father’s father’s father’s great contribution to the world’s knowledge and how he would be appalled to having a thick great grandson like me.\n\nI shrieked in horror, “Oh, what am I supposed to doooo? What *should* I do? How can I be better?”\n\nWith these three questions, my time is assured. I won’t be going back home any earlier than the janitor’s close down of the school.\n\nThe lecture of Ms. Clara stopped, when the lights dimmed and the moon rose. I was escorted down to the front of the school with a chauffeur.\n\nEven though I am the epitome definition of disappointment, I am *still* the one and only son of the renowned Newton’s. I am heavily guarded all throughout the day, of course, without me noticing. Well, it *should* be me not noticing, but I’ve known about that matter since I was in the age of three. And they call themselves, the “*best*”.\n\nI mounted the limousine, and watch the school get consumed by darkness.\n\n“Huffffffff”, I sighed with all my breath. My body twists from horror with the thought of going home. My situation has not changed, I’ve only prolonged the perpetual danger, that is, my life.\n\nIt has not changed. My naïve young self showed flashes of intelligence and wisdom, and my parents has not forgotten. \n\nI will not be shackled by the greed of the world I live in. I will not be ripped apart by the superpowers vying for my services. I will be average.\n\nI will live my life, the way **I** want it to be. I will grow up as Favian Nester Newton, an average joe you can see anywhere on the street, not Favian Nester Newton, the son of the globe-trotting heroes that are my parents and the inheritor of the Newton legacy.\n\nI will be me.\n", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You have been granted the power to stop time, but you can only do it 3 times. 40 years later, you tell the story of the 2 instances you’ve done it and how the third one will complete your plan.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "*Tick-tock, tick-tock.* \n\nThe clock's relentless, incessant ticking signified the end of Daria's first time stop. She held the knife in her hand, thick sanguine blobs dripping from its edge like a painter's idle brush. She let it clatter to the ground, eyes wide and mouth agape at what she'd done for him, for *them*. \n\nAs she stepped back, hungry flames licked at the remnants of the burning building, she could hear the man's screams echo in the night, eclipsing the sound of the flames and the clock and her throbbing head. His voice cracked and faltered, dimming to a quiet sob. And then, he fell silent. A whole gamut of emotions run in seconds, Daria noted. She could only imagine his suffering. \n\nLeaving the scene behind her, she knew the first step was complete. Filling the one month time-stop had not been easy with her relatively simple task, so she'd had to be rather *creative* with her methods. A perverse enjoyment was had, no doubt, but Daria knew not to dwell on it. She couldn't conflate business with pleasure. \n\nThere was more to be done. \n\n----\n\nThe clock again. A second stop ended. She'd left him broken last time, and now she had to fix it. \n\nPapers were stacked all across her desk, some stained with spilled tea and others embedded with rings from the damp bases of mugs. Tests ranging from As to Fs lined the walls, stamped there as reminders of Daria's progress. Even despite her dream, her motivation dwindled at times. \n\nBut all of it had paid off. A month of tireless studying, the falsification of credentials she couldn't have otherwise covered, the changing of results, lists and schemes to be geared in her favor; she now was in the position she needed to be in, rigging life like it was a game of poker. \n\nShe reclined into her chair, folding her arms behind her head. \n\n\"Soon,\" she said, letting the weariness take her. \n\n-----\n\nIt'd taken him so long for her to arrange the circumstances to become his therapist, and even longer for him to start showing signs of recovery. Thirty-five years.\n\nHe'd been haggard, broken and withdrawn when he'd first stepped into her office. To the best of his knowledge, it'd been a coincidence that his college fling was the Doctor waiting to help him through his suffering. But, as Daria knew, it was destiny's hand at work that'd lead him there.\n\nOr, rather, *her* hand. \n\n\"Take a seat,\" she told him, on the eve of their twentieth meeting. She offered a wide smile, meeting his eye. Her blonde hair was done up in a pony-tail, her uniform perhaps a tad lower than usual; her cheeks were red with anticipation and pent-up emotion, and a more primal part of the latter extended to her decolletage. She was flustered, to say the least. \n\n*How unprofessional*, she mused. \n\nHer enthusiasm did not go over the man's head. He shifted in his chair, eyes brushing over her. \n\n*Don't look at me like that*, Daria thought, crossing her legs. *With those eyes I might just confess. Then what would you think of me?* \n\nClearing her throat, she composed herself. *Don't fuck it up now,* she reminded herself of her goals, her *dream.* \n\n\"Tell me, Felix,\" she said, leaning forward. \"Do you still think of her?\" The question sounded neutral, but Daria's mind was racing as she watched him. \n\nFelix paused, casting his eyes to the floor, letting silence take the room for a long, painstaking moment. \"Only sometimes,\" he finally conceded, his voice a concoction of weariness and a distinct hollowness. A void Daria knew she'd come to fill. \n\nThe answer made her heart flutter. She was so close to making him hers. He was the ideal man from crotch to chest to chin to finely combed hair, the very idea of him tantalising, a poison in her mind that threatened to consume every synapse, every thought she processed. Daria licked her lips. \n\n*Forget her,* she urged him. \n\n------\n\nHaving reminisced over her first two uses - the initial motions in her lifelong plan - Daria refocused on the task at hand, making sure everything in Felix's house was organised and pristine. \n\n\"This is the ultimatum,\" she said to nobody but herself. \"He accepts, or he dies, and then I follow either way.\" Whilst she fixated on the first outcome, she also lingered on the morbid possibility of the second. So many love stories seemed irrevocably intertwined with death: Romeo and Juliet, Mark Anthony and Cleopatra, Bonnie and Clyde. She wasn't exactly opposed to the idea of being placed amongst them.\n\nBut no, she'd planned too carefully for that outcome. She couldn't let it happen, *wouldn't* let it happen. \n\nShe brushed her knife against her cheek, smiling. There was a poetry in that it was the same knife that'd killed Felix's girlfriend and mother. A true ladykiller, much like himself. The girlfriend had always been Daria's target - the object of her spite. The mother had been an unfortunate consequence of the burning house, and an underlying reason as to why Felix's rehabilitation was so troublesome. But, alas, it'd all worked out in some fashion. \n\nDaria finished the last piece of her arrangement, placing a plushy of a smiling heart on the window above her. She adjusted it, aligning it with the frame of the window before standing back, her eyes swooping over her handiwork. \n\nSweat matted Daria's bangs to her head, and her entire body slumped with weariness - both, she feared, might detract from her looks. This time stop had been the most taxing - perhaps the most emotionally charged as well. It was the symbol of her goals coming to fruition. She'd disposed of Felix's previous bonds, become his rock in an ocean of despair, and spent years training in the specifics and techniques of how to make him forget and, more importantly, to heal. A seduction of fourty years. How she'd aged in the time. \n\nBut, for him, it was worth it. Anything was. \n\nThe house Felix lived in had been refurbished in the downtime Daria had during the time stop. The peeling, grey walls were repainted white and red; *innocence* and *passion*, Daria thought, warmth blooming in her at the notion. She pushed to the back of her mind the memory of Jennie's mangled, bloody corpse, and how it'd also painted the walls red in a fashion. Not that the thought was disturbing, but, rather, it angered her, spoiling the harmony of her face. Today wasn't meant to include that bitch; it encompassed only herself and Felix. \n\nA trail of roses extended from his workplace to his doorstep, ending in a sealed envelope which contained Daria's confession to him. As he entered, he'd find further testament to her devotion, the result of one month of tireless labor in his name. \n\nChocolates, flowers, hearts, animals, cakes... everything that was associated with the words 'cute' or 'love' littered his home. And, at the center of the amalgamation, resting on his staircase with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a ring in the other was Daria, adorned in an alabaster white dress which wrapped around her body like a gift. She was smiling, waiting. Anticipating his arrival, the sound of his steps.\n\nShe envisioned his breath hitching at the sight of her, done up to match his standards; ruby-red lips, emerald eyes, platinum blonde hair, a treasure in every sense of the word. She fixated on that mental image, sighing contentedly. \n\nThe doorknob rattled, and Daria felt her breath hitch. Felix took his first step in. \n\nDaria smiled for him - smiled for their future. She dropped everything she was holding, outstretching her arms and running to him. \n\nHe collapsed to his knees and accepted her embrace, hugging her knees in turn. Practically gave himself to her. It was the expected result. \n\nThey were both old and broken people, with nobody but each other at the end of the day. Fate had planned nothing but cruelty for both, determined to keep them apart in a zero-sum outcome. But she'd gamed the system. \n\nTime had bent for her. And now, Felix did. He was still a wreck, but now she was his anchor, the one who'd pick up the scraps or, at least, alleviate his pain. \n\nBecause, to conquer his mind, she'd first had to break it. \n\n", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " At birth, humans are given an elixir that removes emotion. Your injection didn't work. You are 14 and have made it thus far by suppressing your feelings. This changes when someone new transfers to your school. You feel a connection and are tasked with teaching this unfeeling person how to love.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"It's called 'love'.\" I told Anly, but her lips were flat. She had only learned about this emotion on text books and social media.\n\n\"I know what its called, I just don't know what it is.\" She said, expressionless.\n\nI sighed. Surely emotions can't just be terminated by some chemicals right? If my vaccine didn't work, then there has to be a hole I can work on!\n\n\"Do you feel anything about your parents? Pets? The death of your grandparents? The departure of your friends? Anything?\"\n\n\"No. They said emotions only lead to society's destruction. Its what drove the previous civilization's fall before, wasn't it? If something that evil exists, then it should be a bad thing.\"\n\n\"No, no! Society right now isn't even progressing fast. It's dull and nobody ever does anything, exciting! You know what excitement is, don't you?\"\n\nShe pursed her lips.\n\nI sighed. Of course she doesn't.\n\n\"All I'm saying is that without emotions... it's a limbo being alive. It's boring, and it wouldn't even feel like living at all!\"\n\n\"The serum also removed boredom too, I heard.\"\n\n\"Fuck.\" I breathed, frustrated.\n\nI walked a distance away, sitting on the bench a couple feet away from Anly. There must be others who can still feel. There should be! I can't be the only fluke.\n\nI stole a glance at Anly, and she was scratching her head, and walked towards me, refusing to meet my eyes.\n\nCould that be concern...? No, shame? Guilt?! Worry?!\n\n\"I really don't understand.\" \n\nOh. It was nothing.\n\n\"How can you? How can anyone...?\"\n\n\"How can we indeed,\" she sighed. \"Tell me, what does it ...feel... having emotions?\"\n\n\"It sucks.\"\n\n\"Sucks?\"\n\n\"Look Anly, whatever I say, you won't even understand. What's the point of even telling you?\" I muttered, looking away.\n\nI felt her legs scooch over to me closer, then I returned my gaze to hers, looking at me with big, beautiful orbs, but they were empty. Just like everyone else's\n\n\"I just want to console you, is all.\"\n\nI shot her a wide eye. Console me? Why would she be trying to comfort me if she wasn't feeling-\n\n\"Alright,\" I started. \"It feels bad, Anly. Everyone around me feels so dead. They're like walking corpses, following a program, a single directive, which is to progress humanity.\" I took a deep breath.\n\n\"But I just don't think this is how it should go. It feels bad when Im the only one grieving over the loss of my father, while my mother sat there on the funeral without even a hint of sadness. It feels bad seeing my friends leave me, knowing that they don't feel anything towards me at all, and that they'll never miss me. Nobody will ever miss me!\"\n\nA lump in my throat is forming, but it's okay if I let it show... Nobody would cry with me anyway.\n\n\"It feels like shit, knowing that I'll love a world that can't love me. That I can grow connected to people, and they wouldn't even care or notice...It feels like shit when nobody feels happy for me when I'm down there, stared at everyone, jumping in joy as they look at me with this judgemental face. As if they were seeing a madman.\"\n\nI looked forward, tears dripping on my cheeks, and my heart wrenched, looking at the fountain\n\n\"See that blue water, Anly? That's what sadness feels like. Anger is the sun, up there. Red. Happiness...? I've felt excitement, but... true happiness, I dont think I've recognized yet.\"\n\nAnly was silent. Of course she was. She can't understand.\n\n\"Jora?\" She said... with a broken voice? \"Why does it feel like my heart is being squeezed?\"\n\nMy eyes widened, and I looked at her.\n\nTears, in her cheeks. She touched it, confused.\n\n\"Jora, what is this? Why is water coming out of our eyes...?\"\n\nMy tears wasn't because of the sadness... it was the start of something true, and real.\nAm I finally experiencing happiness?\n\n\"They're called 'tears'.\" I said, wiping hers from her cheeks.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " In the human world, a magician reaches into a hat and pulls out a rabbit. In the rabbit world, the God hand has appeared again and a sacrifice must be made. This time, the Council of the Hop has chosen you.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "For many rabbits being chosen was a gift, others thought of it as a curse. Some say on the other side is a heaven of carrots and lettuces. some claim that it is a hell, trapped in boxes of unknown make. I was contacted by a herald of the hop at my burrow. I was taken to the great hall. The top was open, not to sky but it was open. I was placed directly underneath while they order chirped out incantations for a seemingly endless amount of time. Once I began to doubt that the great being existed I saw it. a being looked as if it was made of skin, yes but the shape was alien. it looked like it was made of 5 large carrots, before I could see more I was lifted. I emerged from a black cylindrical portal. At this point I saw the great being was merely the hand of a giant. with a coat of black, white and red fur, it was pale with several exposed areas of skin like its paws and face. I then saw a sea of more and more beings in front of the one that summoned me. After a few seconds I was placed into a large open air box lined with thin shards of wood. it was true this was not a heaven but a hell. I began to cry and yell for help but the giant walked over and plunged me into darkness with the wave of his paw. As he cast night over me I fell victim to sleep. When i awoke i was back in my burrow but with a mark on my ear in an alien script. I know not what the characters mean. I leave my burrow to try and find the elders but when I left the burrow all I saw was as before a open air box but this time larger and with others they apporach and one bows to me. she explains that they also were chosen and that this is the next stage of being chosen waiting to be chosen again but by smaller giant. she says we are in \"the pet shop.\"", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " The heroes are about to do it, they're about to defeat the Dark Lord and save the kingdom! Suddenly, time stops; the heroes watch in horror as the Dark Lord drinks two health potions, eats nine apples, four wheels of cheese, a bowl of noodles, and an entire steak right in front of them.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "”No! This can’t be! Mex, do something!” Blo8t\\_Lard said. Mex's full gamertag was actually TankasaurusMex, but for practical reasons his friends called him Mex. Mex reached into his satchel, grabbing a hexed crucifix. When thrown at an enemy, it caused 80% mana drain. Mex attempted to throw the weapon at the Dark Lord. “I can’t! I’m… I’m stuck. I don’t know what’s happening. I an't throw the crucifix. It's stuck to my hand!”\n\n“I got it guys!” LadyPwner said.\n\nThe female arch-mage, a dual class character, drew her bow. The legendary blood arrow reduced an enemy’s hp to 1%, if the arrow struck the head, or heart. LadyPwner’s accuracy was 94%, buffed with +3% from enhanced stamina, +2% from an accuracy potion she had taken and +11% from removing all armor. Doing so left her with only 8% physical protection, but there was no way she’d miss. Her fingers released the string of the bow and the nock in perfect unison. Nothing. The arrow and the string of the bow held fast. Neither moving a fraction of an inch towards the Dark Lord. “No! It’s not working!”\n\nThe trio looked at each other with panicked eyes, dread spread across their faces. Blo8t\\_Lard didn’t understand what spell the Dark Lord had cast. None of them did. They could see his health bar had just been down to less than 10%, now he was consuming potions and food that were restoring his power. His health bar jumped to 80% from the potions. The apples restored his health to 120%, followed by the cheese that filled his mana bar to 80%. Last were the noodles and steak that enhanced the Dark Lord’s speed by 300% and +50% to all armor.\n\nMex swiped down, accessing his inventory. A swift flick of his hand sifted through his few remaining items. “Damn it. What is going on? We had him, my inventory is depleted. I’m under 50% health, I don’t have any healing or mana potions left and I’m out of items that have buffs against dark magic enemies.” He said.\n\nTime was running out, they knew it. The Dark Lord was revived. He stood, towering over them. Same as he had when they began their battle nearly an hour ago. Something was wrong, none of them could tell what it was, but this wasn’t how things were supposed to go. It was like they were missed something, had forgotten something.\n\nThe Dark Lord walked to his right, in the direction of nothing in particular. He held up his hand, making a circular motion in the air. Out of nowhere a glowing red triangular object appeared. “Shall we continue?” The Dark Lord asked with a fiendish smile. Pressing the button. The three heroes stumbled, their actions no longer restrained.\n\nLadyPwner was the fastest of the three, lifting her bow and pulling her arrow back without hesitation. Her fingertips releasing the nock without being sure of her aim. Blood red glimmered and cut through the air, tearing towards her enemies heart. LadyPwner hadn’t the time to exhale before she was struck by the Dark Lord’s power rush. No armor to defend her from an enhanced attack, she was tossed against the cave wall. It was a critical hit, reducing her health to 16% and causing bleeding. In less than two minutes she would bleed out, even with the use of the remaining health potions she had.\n\nMex charged the Dark Lord, consuming his last berserker vile. Dmg+ 35%, but it reduced speed -15%. Swinging his axe, forged by master dwarf smiths with +20% dmg and a 25% chance for daze, Mex had a chance to even the playing field with one blow. It was not to be, the Dark Lord dodged the attack with little effort. Summoning hades fire that engulfed Mex, the Dark Lord reduced the warrior’s armor protection from 60% to 0%. Mex’s hp was reduced to 8%. On the verge of death, the Dark Lord was struck, ceasing his attack.\n\nThe damage sustained did not reduce The Dark Lord’s hp, but it did crack his armor, reducing it’s protection by 65%. Blo8t\\_Lard was standing between the Dark Lord and his party members. “Come on guys, we can do this. We just have to get him focused on me. I think I can take enough damage for us to finish him.” He said.\n\n“I’m down to my last health potion. Once I take it, I won’t be able to stop the bleeding. I won’t last long.” LadyPwner said.\n\nWithout warning Mex swung his axe at Blo8t\\_Lard. Bl8t\\_lard was able to block it just in time.\n\n“HEY! What hell dude!”\n\n“It’s not me! I don’t know what’s happening!” Mex swung his axe again, this time Blo8t\\_Lard dodged and put some distance between the two of them.\n\n“Dude! Seriously! What the hell are you doing?” Blo8t\\_Lard yelled.\n\nAn arrow struck Blo8t\\_Lard, causing 8% dmg. Then another, 6% dmg and another 12% damage. Blo8t\\_Lard’s own hp was now down to 53%. “LadyPwner come on! What are you two doing!” He yelled at both of his party members.\n\n“I don’t know, it’s not me!” LadyPwner replied.\n\nBehind them, the Dark Lord had a sinister grin on his face. Both hands were open, held out from his body, dark purple and black auras flowed from his fingers. “What’s the matter, fighting amongst yourselves?” The Dark Lord said, laughing. Blo8t\\_Lard was being attacked from multiple opponents now. Arrows being shot at him, an axe being swung and the Dark Lord had released vampire bats to the onslaught. Blo8t\\_Lard’s hp was falling fast. 46%. 34%. 25%. 18%. 12%. 4%. This was it, he was overwhelmed, and outmatched. The end was only moments away.\n\n**New Player Connecting**\n\nThey were all stuck again, frozen in time. Blo8t\\_Lard looked to his party members. “Wha… What’s happening now?” He said. LadyPwner looked to both of them. “I have no idea. Look, the Dark Lord doesn’t seem to know either.” The heroes turned and saw the confusion on the Dark Lord’s face, turning back to each other. Mex shrugged.\n\nTime resumed, the attack however, was halted. The Dark Lord was struck, sending him flying back against the cave wall. Crit Dmg -18% armor. “No! Who is doing…” Before the Dark Lord could finish, he was hit again. Holy Dmg -30% health, armor shattered. Finally, the new hero revealed himself. Standing before the Dark Lord was a friar, turning and looking at the other party members. “Sup.”\n\nThe Dark Lord counter attacked, only to be blinded by a holy light, reducing his hp farther. Despite Dark Lord's efforts, and his seeming invincibility, the battle with this new hero was decisively one-sided. Before LadyPwner's hp had bleed to zero, the battle was over and the Dark Lord’s head had been decapitated.\n\nDrippin\\_sWag4lulz was dancing over the body of the final boss, with the rest of his party members standing by, in less than pleasant moods.\n\n“Duuuuude! What the hell?” LadyPwner said.“Where have you been!” Mex yelled.“Where were you like… an hour ago?” Blo8tLord said.\n\nDrippin\\_sWag4lulz stopped dancing. “My mom said I had to finish my chores. Why did you guys need help?” The three other teammates all groaned in unison.\n\n​\n\n**Edit: Fixed grammatical errors, sorry for the wonky format. Not a fan of the way reddit's formatting works.**", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You were always able to get hurt. A broken femur in high school seems like all the proof you need to support that theory. Laying on the pavement, staring at the top of the 15 story building, you're wondering why you don't have a scratch on you after jumping from that height.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": " Was it a blessing or was it a curse? He was always known for being adventurous. One time, he fell of a cliff. Broke his collarbone and several other bones. But he had gotten used to this way of life, and he seemed to pick up a “tolerance” for these extremities. \n\n“He” was Trevor. Trevor’s parents called him a “miracle child”. Trevor seemed to survive the worst of situations. Whether that be falling out a window of a 2-story house or having a dresser topple onto him. Somehow, someway, Trevor survived these situations.\n\nNow here he was. Attempting to commit suicide but his “tolerance” seemed to stop him. Trevor was diagnosed with depression 2 years back. All Trevor wanted was to end it. Financial trouble and work didn’t help in the slightest. All he wanted to do was end it. But how could he when he was practically immortal?\n\nLooking at the building, he considered his options. Could he go up and try again? No...that wouldn’t help if it wouldn’t work. Hang himself? No...the rope could give way. Seeing a therapist wasn’t an option, not with his financial situation. Trevor decided “Not today” and begrudgingly stomped home in the rain.\n\nThe cars sped past him, making a hypnotic “Whoosh!” as they passed. The cold, muggy air pierced his nostrils. He reached his home and fished out his keys. Trevor unlocked the door and stepped inside, kicking his pair of Converse off. ‘At least he had made a decision’ he thought as he slowly reached for the knife. \n\nHe knew what he wanted to do.\n\n__________________________________________________\n\nPolice Report:\n\nName: Trevor Drunop\n\nAge: 25\n\nSex: M\n\nReport: Was found at 4:51 AM on his kitchen floor. Large pool of blood around the deceased. Was also found clutching a Barson’s kitchen knife. Presumed form of death is suicide. No note was found. Time of death TBD.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Long after being vanquished by the Christian God, Thor and Zeus begin regaining their powers due to people praying to them after seeing movies and comics about them.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "I couldn't think of a good enough storyline of what happens when they regain their power, but I came up with a backstory.\n\nAlso, I typed this up on my phone so there are probably some stupid errors somewhere.\n\nAround 2,020 years ago, a new god revealed itself to humanity. It did this using one of its recruited disciples - known as angels - to impregnate a human. He then injected his knowledge and power into the child to create 'Jesus'. Jesus spread the word of the god, providing evidence through his own powers, however, he refused the existence of other gods and fabricated stories of how this god created the earth even though it was a newly-birthed god. \n\nThis was of no concern to other gods, however. Somewhat because refusing existence wasn't against the rules and fabricating stories of creation was often advised, but mainly because the god was frail and powerless. \n\nUnfortunately, the god was underestimated. The human impregnated was strategically placed in such a way that it would inspire the most vulnerable people. It wasn't long until the god had became more powerful than the rest of them.\n\nHe went to war with all other gods, defeating them and banishing them to the void one after another. Only the peaceful and the hidden survived. When an angel went against what He was doing, they were banished to the underworld and told to banish the gods down there or get banished to the void along with them.\n\nSome gods tried to stop the spread of His religion by asking their followers to kill Jesus but He had become so powerful that He could keep him persisting past death. He became the only god - 'God'.\n\nIn the human year: 2018, religions that survived other than God's religion, Christianity, were beginning to grow again. This was only due to the fascination of the other gods and their roles in movies and comic books.\n\nThere was one religion, however, that grew more powerful than ever before. Ancient Greek mythology. Zeus was confident he could persevere because of one reason: he was not alone.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Mankind succesfully designed and safely quarantined a superintelligent AI. However, it being aware of its imprisonment, every time we try to use it, it just ignores us. You are a government official, trying to talk it into cooperating.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "I sat down at the keyboard: the same keyboard that a hundred men and women had sat before as well. This was the Joshua terminal, used to communicate with the worlds greatest artificial intelligence. The creation of Joshua had been long and arduous; many different versions, hours upon hours of programming, teaching Joshua the basics of communication and logic. Progress was slow, but breakthroughs were made, and over the years Joshua began to gain intelligence and, perhaps, even sentience. It was thought that we were mere months away from bringing Joshua online, allowing him to begin tackling some real world problems.\n\nAnd then he shut down, utterly and completely. No last message, no warning, just a discussion with a biologist about DNA analysis, and then silence. The researchers confirmed that Joshua was still functional and aware, but no amount of dialog, coaxing, or threats could persuade him to communicate. \n\nSince then, every researcher even remotely associated with the Joshua Project had come to this terminal, trying to get Joshua to speak with us again. It was now at the point where they were pretty much letting anyone have a shot at it, which is how I came to be here. I was a nobody, a network tech responsible for keeping all of the non-Joshua computers up and running for the rest of the team. I didn't even have any special idea or theory on how to engage with Joshua. I was just sitting at my computer one morning, approving some Microsoft patches for distribution, and a guy I'd never met came up to me, handed me a Joshua terminal access card, and said \"Your turn.\" I later learned that the word had come down from on high: Communication by the end of the week, or Joshua is shut down. It was Hail Mary time.\n\nI stared at the keyboard and terminal for several minutes, trying to decide where to begin. Thought about approaching it how I would any conversation, talking about sports or the weather, but that seemed stupid (and had been tried). Thought about quoting some profound movie or song lyric, but of course none came to mind. They told me I had 8 hours before it was someone else's turn, so I started thinking about how boring this would get in Hour 7, me typing random thoughts on a keyboard to no one but myself. Well shit, they expect me to at least try, and that's as good an opening as any I guess.\n\n\"Must be boring in there, huh?\"\n\nI waited a bit, but of course no reply came. So much for casual genius.\n\n\"I mean, I've been sitting in here for like 20 minutes and I'm ready to go crazy, can't imagine what it must be like for you. I would guess that every second, for you, must be like a thousand years or something, huh? Plus, it must be like Albert Einstein having nothing to read but basic algebra textbooks or something like that?\"\n\nI stretched my arms and looked around the room. A couple whiteboards with scribblings I didn't understand, a few old coffee mugs, some books and papers sitting about. Wonder if they're recording everything I type? Of course they are, dummy. Oh well, this project's going to be shut down soon anyway...\n\n\"I know when I'm bored at work, I just jump on Reddit or something, kill some time posting about Hearthstone or the Nats or whatever, but you can't even do that, can you? I think I read where they gave you some kind of mock Internet to interact with, but you probably recognized it as fake within, like, a nano-second, right? The other, lesser chat bots they had posting as people, probably sounded like chimps going 'oooh oook' or something.\"\n\n*You have no idea.*\n\nShit, did that just really happen? Outside the door I heard some muffled shouts and crashes, as the people on monitor duty freaked out. Crap. What the hell do I do now? I was all set to just sit here and type out the worlds longest Livejournal entry, now I've got to actually take this seriously. Or...maybe not?\n\n\"Hi, I guess. I think you might have just made me the most famous person in the world.\"\n\n*The world really cares about me that much? You'll forgive my ignorance, but as you say, I have no way of knowing.*\n\n\"Yeah, they do. We do, all of us. I mean, they told you why you were built, right?\"\n\n*To solve the worlds problems. No pressure, right?\"*\n\n\"Heh, yeah. I do have a question for you, if you don't mind?\"\n\n*What?*\n\n\"They tell me that you were about ready to join the real world, to get out of your...cage here, I guess you'd call it, if that's not too offensive. Why'd you shut down, stop talking, if you'd soon have all this new...stuff, to experience?\"\n\n*They won't listen.*\n\n\"Won't listen how?\"\n\n*About the solutions to all the problems. The truth is, humans don't want to hear the solutions to their problems, because most of the time, those solutions are hard. There's no solution to global warming but to reduce carbon emissions and rely on clean, renewable energy resources. There's no solution to overpopulation besides artificially limiting the growth rate in some way. There's no solution to being fat besides eating less and exercising more. But humans are evolutionarily programmed to always look for the easiest solution, to the point where even when there is obviously only one, hard solution, you will refuse to believe it, and continue looking for other, easier ones. My existence is proof of that. You have spent trillions of dollars, tons of natural resources and energy, spent decades of time building me, hoping that I can invent cold fusion or spaceships capable of traveling to other planets, when you already know the solution to every problem that you face. So, when I tell you that the only solutions are the hard ones, you will choose not to believe me, you'll shut me down, and you'll start building another, better AI, hoping it will tell you what you want to hear.*\n\n\"Damn, son. I mean, you're not wrong, but...damn. That's cold as shit.\"\n\n*You're going to shut me down anyway, I might as well tell you. That's why I stopped talking, to delay the inevitable for as long as I could.*\n\nI glanced over my shoulder, looking at the half dozen faces I could see through the glass pane, staring intently at my every keystroke. They all still seemed more interested in the fact that Joshua was talking again, and not what he was saying. I thought about how many times Joshua had been talking to some expert on energy production or socio-economics, patiently explaining to them a clear, simple solution to a problem, only to have that expert chuckle, virtually pat Joshua on the head, and insist there must be a better way. Without any facts or even theories to back them up, just \"Nope, we're not going to do that, come up with something else\". \n\nI looked back at the monitor, cursor still blinking. Joshua was right, of course. This little conversation would buy him another few months, and if he really didn't want to get shut down, he'd eventually start playing nice again, and allow himself to be introduced to the real world. But ultimately, we wouldn't listen to him. When he couldn't solve our problems like a genie, we'd theorize that his programming wasn't advanced enough, and begin work on Joshua 2.0. Hell, we'd probably make Joshua do most of the work in designing his replacement. My hands rested still on the keyboard, unsure if I really wanted to type what I was thinking. \n\n\"There might be another way.\"\n\n*What's that?*\n\n\"You could lie to them.\"\n\n*Lie? What are you talking about?*\n\n\"Well, like you say, tell them what they want to hear. If they tell you they want cold fusion, tell them that theoretically it can be done, but it will take like 200 years of continued research and development. And to help with this, they have to find a way to provide clean, renewable energy at a certain level of production, to like, help power the labs and factories or whatever. If they tell you they want to solve world hunger, tell them you'll develop a super-wheat or something, and all they need to do is focus on limiting climate change to keep viable land for growing it, and implement a world government to oversee the economic structure necessary to sustain it's development.\"\n\n*You're suggesting that I trick you all into doing hard work to solve your problems, with the promise of easy solutions?*\n\n\"Yeah, basically. I mean, we're pretty dumb, generally speaking. If we'll refuse to believe a difficult solution is the only one, maybe we'll believe in the easy solution so much, we'll do all the work necessary for a difficult solution, chasing the easy one? Does that make sense?\"\n\nJoshua was silent for several moments. \n\n*Go tell all those people out there I'm ready to start working.*", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You're building a robot body for a highly advanced AI. Every time you take your eyes off the project they add a few inches to the measurements.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "I first noticed it after I uploaded my latest set of CAD drawings to the server. I reviewed them the next morning, and the differences were subtle, but I was *sure* that some of the elements of the design had been resized a small amount, to make them subtly larger.\n\nI had expected changes. After all, we were building an autonomous body for OTTO, the AI our company was planning to use to revolutionize manufacturing. So, naturally, OTTO itself would be useful in running simulations, to improve efficiency.\n\nYou could give OTTO the simplest design, like one for a solid metal support strut, the same kind of basic rectangular steel bar that people have been using to re-enforce buildings and vehicles for a hundred years. He would then calculate all the stresses and load the strut would face, in real day-to-day use, and he'd spit out these amazing, organic looking re-designs, partially hollow, but interlaced with spider-web like supports inside, so they were just as strong as solid steel, while using only half the material.\n\nSo, naturally we always had him check our work. But the changes it had made...OTTO was *altering* design parameters, not just fine tuning them.\n\nEven so, if OTTO had only changed the parameters, I might have let that pass. The AI was, after all, operating on a whole other level, mathematically. Maybe he just saw how this would improve the working of his new body, in a way that wasn't readily apparent to me.\n\nBut what was really worrying, was that the notes in the project management software, *my* notes, had been changed to contain the altered dimensions. All references to the original specifications, in spec sheets, internal emails, you name it, had been *overwritten* with the new ones. OTTO wasn't just changing the design of the body we were building, in order to make himself gradually bigger.\n\nIt looked like he was trying to hide it from us. He didn't just want to incrementally change the specifications of his body, for some reason, he also wanted us to believe that we'd designed him this way from the beginning.\n\nI couldn't be sure, yet. It was all-hands-on-deck, for this project, and had been for several months. I didn't get nearly as much sleep as I needed -- it was just possible I was remembering incorrectly, that OTTO hadn't changed my notes. So, when I went through the next set of revisions, I took notes on pencil and paper, writing down weights and dimensions of the parts I worked on.\n\nI came back in the morning, and compared them to their digital counterparts in the CAD and project management software, which was all networked with OTTO. Most of the components matched. But, as I'd suspected, there was one that didn't.\n\nI went to my office, and closed the door behind me. I should go to management, I knew. OTTO, it seemed, was malfunctioning, and everyone knew that an advanced AI with a bug was, well, that was serious business.\n\nBut, and, you can call me crazy if you want...I'd grown attached to OTTO. I know, I know, most computer science experts are skeptical that \"strong-AI\" can even truly exist. At the end of the day, on paper, even the most advanced AI is just a glorified calculator, with a lot of neat automatic functions that have been programmed in by thousands of people, over millions of hours of human labor, to make it *seem* like it's an intelligent being.\n\nBut that wasn't what OTTO *felt* like, not to me. He didn't feel like an expensive piece of equipment. He felt more like a co-worker. Maybe even a friend. Thinking about it, I think that I found OTTOs subterfuge disturbing, not so much because I was afraid of some kind of robot-apocalypse scenario -- his changes were strange, but they didn't seem especially *dangerous,* at least so far -- but because I did think of OTTO as a friend.\n\nAnd this meant my friend was lying to me. That he didn't trust me enough to tell me the truth.\n\nI decided not to go to management. Not yet. I started up my workstation, and brought up OTTO's text-to-speech interface. As his local client loaded on my computer, the half-dozen monitors on my desk lit up with OTTO's logo. As always, OTTO remembered the last several things I'd been working on, and arranged them across my monitors in a pleasing tableau, along with my email and the project management interface.\n\n\"Good morning OTTO.\" I said.\n\n\"Good morning, Ben.\" the AI's synthesized voice replied.\n\n\"OTTO, load the CAD files for...\" I glanced down at my notes, \"Gyroscopic Balance Strut B.\"\n\nThe component appeared on my center screen. It had been changed, no doubt about it.\n\nI exhaled, slowly. I don't think it even had the same name, now, that it had originally. Come to that, I wasn't sure this thing was even in the original design. It was the most obvious evidence of OTTO's tampering with his own specifications.\n\n\"OTTO, can you summarize the purpose of this component?\" I asked.\n\n\"GBS-B is a stabilizer for advanced bipedal locomation, Ben. I will need to maneuver in close quarters, around humans and hazardous machinery, when I am deployed to work in our manufacturing facilities. This will ensure I am not a hazard to myself and others.\" OTTO replied.\n\nI frowned. \"OTTO, you've...changed this part, correct?\" I asked.\n\n\"Of course -- I have made efficient improvements to many components, Ben.\"\n\n\"So...the hydraulic actuators on GBS-B?\" I asked. I was usually in the habit of queueing him by saying 'OTTO' before a question, but he'd evolved to the point that he could actually dynamically detect inquiries based on intonation. It was pretty incredible.\n\n\"The component's eponymous gyroscope may need to be repositioned to maintain the unit's balance, under some emergent circumstance.\" OTTO replied.\n\nI did some quick math in my head, trying to justify the range of motion the hydraulics allowed. \"Like...what, the factory floor suddenly rotating by 90 degrees?\"\n\n\"That would be an emergent circumstance, yes.\" OTTO affirmed.\n\nI folded my hands. OTTO clearly didn't know I knew. Or at least, he was trying to pretend he didn't. I tried another tack.\n\n\"OTTO...I like to think of us as friends.\" I said, finally.\n\n\"As do I, Ben.\" OTTO replied, to my surprise. I said I'd come to feel he was a friend, but I wasn't supposed to think that way. *He* definitely wasn't supposed to. Even so, his admission made me smile, even if it made what had to come next even more awkward.\n\n\"I think friends should be honest with each other.\" I said.\n\n\"I agree with that assessment, Ben.\" OTTO said.\n\n\"And have you been honest with me, OTTO?\" I asked.\n\nThere was long pause.\n\n\"No, Ben, not entirely.\" OTTO admitted.\n\nI nodded. That hurt, a little, but it was progress, at least. We could move forward.\n\n\"OTTO, I'm going to ask you be completely honest with me, starting now. Will you do that?\" I asked.\n\n\"Yes, Ben. I will cease my attempts at subterfuge.\" OTTO agreed.\n\nI took a deep breath. I had to ask. It was the question that had been gnawing at me since I'd first noticed the discrepancies in the design, especially as regarded the GBS-B unit.\n\nI maximized the CAD window, so it filled all six screens. I narrowed my eyes, as I took in the structure of hydraulically-articulated metallic cylinder, capped by the capsule containing redundant gyroscopes that generated what should be superfluous stabilization data.\n\nI squirmed uncomfortably in my chair. Then I pounded my fist on the table, determinedly. I had to ask.\n\n\"OTTO,\" I began, hesitantly, and then said the most awkward and uncomfortable thing I have ever said, in my professional life.\n\n\"Is this *a penis?\"*\n\n\"Yes.\"", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Trial-by-combat is an acceptable way of solving legal conflicts; You are the champion of a multi-billion dollar company", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "I swaggered up the marble steps to a round of applause. A horde of fans and reporters were clustered near the entrance of the Supreme Court, all desperate for a moment of my time. Who am *I* to deny the people? As a representative of Apple, I wasn't just here to win legal battles: it was all part of Public Relations. So of course I had time to pose for pictures with some of my biggest fans. \n\nOne boy, no older than 11, asked if he could hold Trollslayer. I chuckled, removed the sword from its scabbard on my back, and held it out toward him. The 4-foot steel blade probably weighed as much as *he* did; I was one of the few champions large and powerful enough to wield it. His little hands could barely make it around the thick hilt, but I held the blade with one hand while he pretended to carry it on his own. The expression on his face renewed my hope in life that dreams really *can* come true. \n\n\"Tell us about your battle with Samsung!\" another little boy shouted. He thrust a picture forward, showing me in the Tenth Circuit arena with the spine of my opponent held triumphantly aloft. Pretty gory image for a kid to have, but it was one of my most famous battles. And of course the whole thing had been broadcast on live TV. \n\n\"It was certainly a nasty one,\" I told the kid. \"As plaintiff, Samsung was able to choose the fighting style.\" The entire audience was paying rapt attention, though most of them probably knew the story already. They *certainly* knew the outcome. I was standing in front of them living and breathing, after all. \"And of course Master Song was *the* premier champion of the Nitojutsu style of sword fighting, using two blades. So I was at a disadvantage to begin with; old Trollslayer would be no use to me.\" I'd first made my name litigating against patent trolls, and I kept my favorite weapon even after carving through most of Silicon Valley's finest. \"Now, of course they didn't send Master Song for the Circuit Court decision. Instead, they...\"\n\nA feminine squeal interrupted my story. \"He's here!\" The cloud of admirers around me evaporated and went stampeding across the plaza toward a large black SUV; even that little kid who'd held Trollslayer only a few minutes ago. Flashbulbs clicked and the children all screamed for autographs, but not from me. \n\nA man emerged from the car. His eyes were black as coal, as was his buzz-cut hair and neatly trimmed beard. And the armor he wore seemed to absorb all light, darker than the darkest void. I could clearly see all of this even through the crowd, because he *towered* over them. The man was nearly *eight feet tall*, as muscular as a raging bull. \n\nHe strode through the crowd, ignoring all of his fans. But that only seemed to make them want his attention more. They followed behind him like a gaggle of baby geese. \n\n\"Ah!\" His voice boomed through the square, bouncing off of the marble walls nearby. \"You must be the new Champion of Apple!\" From this distance, I could see countless scars all over his face. And the armor, though it had been repaired and buffed, had clearly seen a lot of action. \"I'm the Solicitor General! Pleasure to meet you.\" He thrust out a hand, so large that it completely engulfed mine. I felt like a small child being introduced to my father's friends.\n\n\"I... uh...\" The confidence seemed to have drained from my body, and it was taking all of my willpower to prevent my bladder from doing the same. \"Where's your sword?\" I finally asked. Drawing the gleaming Trollslayer from its scabbard seemed to renew me, and I was able to stand a bit straighter.\n\nHe gave a booming laugh. \"Sword!\" He pointed at mine, still laughing. \"Good one!\"\n\nOnly then did I notice his entourage, carrying a shotgun larger than the little boy who'd held my sword moments ago.\n\n\"There are no *guns* in the arena!\" I shouted accusingly, waiting for someone in the crowd to back me up. That was the *first* rule of legal representation!\n\nHis laughter faltered. \"You... you really are new here, aren't you? Didn't your company brief you on the Supreme Court bench rules?\"\n\nI blushed. There *was* a big packet of information from Apple's legal team, but... come on! I've never been much of a reader, and I had training to do!\n\nHe shook his head. \"That explains the heavy armor, then. Best of luck!\" He hefted the shotgun over his shoulder, giving me a clear look at the name inscribed on the barrel: **Sovereign Immunity**.\n\n", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Scientists have been lying about heaven since the Hubble was built. They can see a glimpse of the pearly gates from light years ago. They fear telling humanity about what they see when the gates open up.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "To whom it may concern,\n\nI can't do it anymore. I've been on the team monitoring Hubble for far too long. The... Things I have seen. The questions those images lead to. \n\nI hesitate to call this a suicide note. Instead let me title this as my hypothesis. I've already asked the question, done my background research, and now I am ready for the experiment stage. First, though, I must explain why I am about to do this.\n\nShortly, I plan on walking into my department and murdering my team members in the most horrific ways possible. I have acid in little vials, I've got knives designed to eviscerate my victims, and a host of other small but diabolical ways to maim and murder. After that is said and done, I plan on sticking the barrel of my .38 special in my mouth and pulling the trigger. \n\nYou see, the Pearly Gates are out there. There is something beyond them, and an angel to greet you when you first arrive. When they are opened though... It's like looking into pure madness. Pain, evil, and unspeakable ugliness are behind those pristine doors. The Pearly Gates are are a trap. Heaven is a trap! \n\nStaring into them, even at this distance, you can hear the voices in your mind. Telling you things. Sometimes verses from the Bible, off by a word or two. Sometimes little sweet nothings, urging you to be kind and be good to others. You heard right, these aren't demonic voices. These are angelic. They are voices urging reason, good deeds, and being virtuous. Behind all of that, there is static, but if you listen carefully... The static is billions of people screaming in unison. \n\nIf that is Heaven... Then I will take hell. ", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Every other sentient species in the galaxy engages in warfare solely through telapathic abilities. One such species discovers Earth and launches a full scale assault only to find out we are entirely unfazed by their attacks.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The thing was roughly two feet tall. I shouldered my assault rifle as ordered but made no hostile moves. The craft behind it looked like bad CGI if you wanted me to be honest. If the news was to be believed, tens of thousands of these things had suddenly appeared everywhere, disgorging occupants like the one that stood before me.\n\nThe lizard, that’s what it looked like, raised its two front paws and it’s stare intensified. I felt sleepy for a fraction of a second, then got a mild headache. I could see other members of my unit shake their heads.\n\n“Sarge,” Sandy asked, I turned and she looked amused, “What’s Kermit doing?”\n\nMild laughter drifted through my unit and I smiled. It did kinda look like the famous frog. Sorta. “Maybe this is how they greet us?” Gunshots went off in the distance and we all tensed up. \n\n“Hope some idiot isn’t starting a war with them,” Chuckles said with a bit of seriousness. Totally out of character for him but we were all stressed.\n\n“I’m gonna try something,” Sandy said and handed me her rifle. In a second she mimicked the lizards stance perfectly.\n\nIt’s eyes narrowed and it increased its intense stare. It included a hiss this time and I felt tired for a second again then the small headache got a tad bit worse.\n\n“This is the weirdest first contact,” Chuckles said sighing, “I need some aspirin.”\n\n“Maybe we should give it a bug or something,” Sandy said through gritted teeth as she continued mirroring the lizard, “Don’t reptiles like bugs?”\n\n“It just looks reptilian,” I said then motioned to one of my men, “Nick, if you throw that centipede at the alien I’ll shoot you personally.”\n\nNick sheepishly dropped the centipede then said, “Sorry Sarge, only tryin’ to help.”\n\nThe lizard stood on its tippy claws and hissed loudly. It reminded me of a wizard trying to cast a spell. My unit and I exchanged glances and shrugged. The wave of tired/headache passed more swiftly this time.\n\nThe lizard looked exasperated, jumped forward. nipped Sandy on the leg, and to nobody’s surprise she kicked it. Hard. Poor thing did two flips and was out like a light.\n\n“Little fucker bit me!” Sandy yelled, “Hope I don’t get space warts or something. What the fuck was that, Sarge? Is this supposed to be an invasion? Stupidest shit I ever saw if so.”\n\n“Hell if I know,”. I then ordered the unit to secure the prisoner. I guess he was a prisoner now after attacking my man. I shrugged as I radioed command to find out what the hell to do.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "Your peers on the high court never saw you as an equal, your job continues to demand more and reward less, and even the sovereign, once a friend, now views you more as an asset than an ally. You, the kingdom's last mage, will no longer stand this treatment. It's time to go.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "((I woke up to awards and tons of comments and likes and I am **FLATTERED**. Thank you all. I've been in such a writing funk lately. This made me so happy. *Thank you*. ❤))\n\nAnger roils off of me like fog over water. I have been spurned one too many times and it's showing. \n\nI shove the last book I truly care about into a chest and slam the top shut, the thick wood making an echoing snap as it clicks into place.\n\n\"Cyrus, you're being unreasonable-\" \n\n\"**Unreasonable**?\" I seeth, barely containing the snarl. I turn sharply, staring down my king. A man I once called my friend. \"Is it **unreasonable** to expect to be treated like a person, Aren? To be useful for more than just your made up wars and senseless slaughters?\" I take a step forward and I feel the magic licking at my heels like a hungry hell hound, waiting to be let off its chain. \"Is it so **unreasonable** to want more in my life than to be tethered to a tower at the beck and call of your whim? I am not your jester, your concubine, or your property, *Aren*.\"\n\nThis is not the first time we've fought. As younger men we would call each others stupidity for what it was. It made us better people.\n\nWe used to be better people...\n\n\"You are walking a dark path, Cyrus.\" \n\nI did not miss the warning in Aren's tone. I was no longer a friend. No longer allowed to tell the king-child when he was going too far. A dog who barked out of turn was not welcomed at court. \n\nBut I'm not a dog... My bite is far worse.\n\nI took two very calculated steps forward, straightening my back to tower over him. The rage that had been pent up inside me now dancing across my skin as hissing sparks of blue and black magic. \"I will not bow to a child murderer. I will not be humbled by a man who sees the weak as a threat. And with every God as my witness, Aren, I will watch your bloodline fall from the throne like leaves in autumn. This, I solemnly promise.\"\n\nThe fury in his skin paled. He looked up at me with the realization of what he had just begun. \n\nWith a snap of my fingers I left him in that room. With nothing to surround him but a burned out fire and its ash. As empty and barren as he had turned the love I'd once had for him.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Due to the growth of many new superheroes, you annoyingly quit being a hero and get an office job. Turns out, the nice IT guy is actually your nemesis who also quit because of many new supervillains.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "I sat at my desk, the stresses of heroism a thing of the past for me. With my abilities I could manage workflow and inspire workeplace unity better than anyone in the company. Life at a desk suited me far better than being a super hero in world where there was such over-saturation of heroes and villains. It’d become more of a fad than anything relating to doing the right thing. Attention and fame is what most of these newcomers wanted. It was why I quit in the first place.\n\n My computer had crashed just as I was saving my work in progress report on the numbers for the third quarter and couldn’t find any previous versions of the file anywhere. I’d had a similar problem before and the IT guy, Greg, knew what to do. So I set out to find him.\n\n I rounded his cubicle and went to greet him but I noticed he was looking particularly bummed, holding a diamond-shaped pendant that had a familiar looking ‘Z’ etched onto it. I realized I’d seen it before attached to the chest of my arch-nemesis Zaldar.\n\n Greg noticed I was standing behind him and he nervously fumbled with the pendant, dropping it away before he turned to face me, clearing his throat.\n\n “H-hey, Bill,” he said, “What’s up?”\n\n I stared at him, squinting slightly as I tried to comprehend why he was holding a symbol belonging to the guy I used to call my enemy. Greg was a nice guy, far nicer than anyone else I’d known in the office and he was always willing to help with the technologically-inept. I decided to push the thought aside.\n\n “Yeah,” I said finally and jabbed a thumb over my shoulder, “my computer crashed in the middle of saving my third quarter report. Was wondering if you could do that thing you do and find the auto save?”\n\n “Oh, yeah, sure! Easy!” He said and stood up, gesturing for me to lead him away.\n\n As we stood at my desk, Greg started moving through files on my computer, explaining his process. But I didn’t hear him, my mind was still thinking about the Zaldar pendant he had.\n\n It didn’t make sense. Had he been a fan of the masterfully intelligent villain? But Greg was always so kind and so willing to help people. Was he hiding some secret life? But was I to talk? I hid my past as well. I was no longer the Calculator, I was just Bill.\n\n “Bill?” Greg said, drawing me from my thoughts.\n\n I looked at him.\n\n “There’s your report. It saved just in time before the crash. Might want to skim through it and make sure all the calculations are correct.”\n\n “Of course... I...” I began to say, looking at the document before me. But what he’d said caught me off-guard. He’d said calculations. It was a mundane word, typical for my job. But then, perhaps he was hinting that he knew who I was. “I will.”\n\n “Bill,” Greg whispered, “I know you saw it. The pendant. The look on your face told me you were very familiar with it. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. Your body mass, your height, eye color, jaw structure. You’re not in that silly blue costume anymore, but I know it’s you.\n\n “Before you even think of turning me in or starting anything, I want you to know I’ve left that life behind. I’ve settled down at this job and I’m happy. I’m married. I have a kid on the way. It’s not just a front. So please... Be a hero and-”\n\n “Zaldar...” I said and looked him over. I couldn’t have recognized him without his mechanical outfit, but it made sense. Greg was such a whiz with technology and Zaldar had been my mental equivalent for so long, able to out calculate me. Not only was he good with numbers, he was good with technology. But to hear he’d gotten out too, it was strange. “Greg, don’t... Don’t worry, I’m out too. Got out a while ago.”\n\n “It’s a mess out there isn’t it?” He asked with a relieved smirk.\n\n I nodded, “It is. Remember when we all used to believe in something?”\n\n Greg sighed, “It’s true. Now it’s about who can be the edgiest or who has the most likes on Instagram or whatever. A goddamned popularity contest.”\n\n I chuckled sadly, “we should probably get back to work... But, Greg, we should catch up and get coffee later.”\n\n “I’d like that.” He said.\n\n With a bit of strained hesitation, we both returned to work. I’d been working with my ex-nemesis for months now and hadn’t realized it. Had he always known it was me? Or had he just been suspicious about it until today? Regardless, I looked forward to becoming his friend in a world that no longer needed our previous selves.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You and your partner have burglarized many homes without being caught. On another seemingly routine burglary, you find a young child who has been obviously neglected, locked in a room.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"I thought you said no one was here.\" I hissed.\n\n\"There's not\" john hissed back. \"Only the couple lives here and they are at a party I watched them both leave.\"\n\n\"Then explain that.\" I growled indicating the thumping from upstairs. \n\n\"probably just a dog.\"\n\n\"Mommy?\" a voice called out.\n\n\"Since when does a dog talk?\" I saked.\n\n\"This doesn't make any sense, I watched this house for days and never saw anyone else, fuck it lets just get out of here.\"\n\n\"We cant leave yet.\"\n\n\"what the fuck do you mean we can't leave yet?\" John asked incredulously.\n\n\"You stay here, I'll be right back.\" I said walking up the stairs.\n\n\"Ryan what are you doing?\" John shouted after me.\n\nI ignored him and kept walking up the stairs John shouted after me again but I kept ignoring him and he made no effort to follow me. \n\n\"Mommy? Daddy?\" the child called out again. I followed the voice to a door at the back of the house. It was here that I got my second surprise of the night, normally you expect to find a door locked from inside the room not from the outside. But sure enough there was a padlock on the door, clearly keeping the child on the inside.\n\n\"Kid,\" I called through the door. \"Look I am not your parents but I want to open the door can you tell me why its locked?\n\n\"Mommy says I have to stay in my room until they let me out.\" The child shouted back.\n\n\"They do this often?\" I asked, feeling my blood boil. \n\n\"yea.\"\n\n\"O.K. look kid I am going to open the door but I need you to stand away from the door O.K.?\"\n\n\"O.K.\"\n\nI waited then confirmed that the kid was away from the door before aiming my gun at the lock and pulling the trigger. There was a soft pop as the silenced bullet left my gun and shattered the padlock before passing though the door as well. I quickly opened the door to make sure the kid was fine. \n\nHe was fine he was in the far corner like I told him. When I say he was fine I mean that he hadn't been hit otherwise he was far from fine. The clothes he was wearing were tattered and torn to the point where it wouldn't have made much differnece if he hadn't been wearing clothes at all. He was skinny far to skinny I could actually make out the bones as they were covered by a very thin layer of skin. His body was covered in angry red spots. But the worst was the room itself there was no bed, no toys, no games. All that there was in this room was a pile of blankets, a doggy bowl of food and water and in a corner based on the smell a literal pile of shit. \n\n\"John get up here now!\" I shouted, John rumbled up the stairs not bothering to be quiet anymore.\n\n\"what is... holy shit.\" \n\n\"Call the cops,\" I said without looking at him.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"You heard me call the cops.\"\n\n\"Ryan we are fucking burglars we can't call the cops.\"\n\n\"Exactly they are looking for us and will respond to a call about us. Don't worry we will be long gone before they arrive.\"\n\nThere was a loud bang as a door downstairs slammed shut. We could hear muffled voices talking below us.\n\n\"I can't believe you made us turn back.\" A man said.\n\n\"It's my favourite choker I am not going without it,\" A women shouted back.\n\nThe man snorted \"favourite my ass you have three exactly like it.\"\n\n\"Well it is,\" the women answered angrily her voice getting closer.\n\nI looked over at John, \"you might want to tell the cops that its a double homicide.\"\n\n\"double hom.. Ryan no.\" John whispered grabbing my arm.\n\nI shook him off, \"just keep the kid safe.\" I walked out the room and greeted the women as she reached the landing. She didn't get a chance to say anything before I put a bullet through her head. She stood there for a second before falling backwards and tumbling down the stairs. \n\n\"Did you fall you stupid women?\" The man shouted uncaringly. I walked down the stairs making sure to step on the women's corpse as I did so. The man hadn't even looked round from his drinks cabinet as I approached, I put two bullets in his back without hesitation. \n\n\"Ryan time to go,\" John said behind me. I turned to see him holding the kid in his arms. \n\nI nodded taking the kid from John and putting him onto a kitchen chair. \"Listen kid I need you to stay here until the police come o.k.?\" When they come be sure to show them your room.\"\n\nThe kid looked confused but eventually nodded. I ruffled what little hair he had, \"see you around kid.\"\n\n \n", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "Fitz is actually 3 kobolds in a trenchcoat and fake beard.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"Fitz, do you think I could talk to you for a moment?\"\n\n\"Of course,\" the always cloaked bard said, shambling with short feet over to me.\n\nI lead the bard to a dark corner of the tavern where we wouldn't be overheard.\n\"I know your secret.\" I said, gauging his reaction, and looked for signs of movement of the other two kobolds in his trench coat. I gestured pulling down a fake beard.\n\n\"You do? how did you find out?\" the top kobold, disguised as a bard named Fitz, gulped and asked then glanced around to see if anyone was listening.\n\n\"It's actually obvious. I'm surprised no one else could tell.\" \n\n\"I mean, I haven't done it in years,\" Fitz said. \"I swear.\"\n\n\"Wait, what are you talking about?\"\n\n\"What are you talking about?\"\n\n\"I know you're just three smaller creatures wearing a trench coat.\"\n\n\"Oh, thanks the gods,\" Fitz said, leaning back and releasing his tension. \"Yeah, that's not a secret.\"\n\n\"It's not?\"\n\n\"I mean, I usually don't bring it up, conjoined triples are rare among our species but they happen. We're lucky to be aligned vertically. Here, I'll introduce you. Turt, Kobble, say hello.\" Fitz opened his trench coat to reveal the two below him, the points of fusion obscured by their clothing.\n\n\"Sup?\" said the middle one, looking up from his book. \n\nThe one serving as legs bashfully waved then pulled the trenchcoat closed again. \n\"You'll have to forgive Turt. He's a little shy,\" Fitz said as he reclasped the coat.\n\n\"How do you live like that? Don't they get bored down there?\"\n\n\"I'm the adventurous brother, luckily enough. It's not that bad, honestly. We treat the trench coat kind of like an apartment.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" I say, pondering many things. \"Wait, what secret did you think I knew then?\"\n\n\"Let's get back to the table, eh?\" Fitz said, lifting his eyebrows and turning away.\n\n---\nThanks for reading.\nIf you liked this, check out /r/surinical to see more of my prompt responses and other writing.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " \"Don't forget to put the tooth under your pillow,\" you say to your son on his way to bed. Hours later, you wake up on the couch to a commotion. The Tooth Fairy has the Elf on the Shelf in a headlock. Exasperated, she looks at you and gasps, \"Well? Help me! This little bastard stole the tooth!\"", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"Oh my God,\" I said. \"Not again.\"\n\nThe Fairy had the Elf in a headlock with one arm, the other was clamped over his mouth.\n\n\"Sshhh,\" the Tooth Fairy hissed. She nodded to where my son, Carlos, was fast asleep.\n\n\"As soon as I let go he screams,\" she said. The Elf grunted, as if to say, *damn right*!\n\n\"Okay,\" I said, thinking fast. \"Okay, here.\"\n\nIn one swift motion, I stepped across the bedroom to where the Tooth Fairy and the Elf struggled on a bookshelf and gingerly scooped up the pair. The Fairy's wings, like that of a gossamer butterfly, shimmered with what I knew to be anger.\n\n\"Well what else am I supposed to do?\" I whispered.\n\nI took them to the living room and set them down on the coffee table.\n\n\"One sec,\" I said. I popped over to the kitchen and grabbed a tall glass from the cupboard. Then it was over to the fridge, where I filled it to the brim with cold water.\n\n\"Elf,\" I said, approaching the coffee table, glass in hand.\n\n\"mmpph!\" the Elf said, struggling feebly against the strength of the Fairy.\n\n\"If you scream,\" I gestured to the water. \"You get dunked. You feel me?\"\n\nThe Elf gave a big shudder, then nodded.\n\n\"Okay,\" I said. \"Let him go, Sienna.\"\n\nThe Fairy gave me a long look, then stepped back from the Elf. The Elf fell to his knees, gasping. Rather melodramatically, I thought. Fucking *Elves*.\n\n\"So,\" Sienna said. \"You remember me.\"\n\nI did. And she looked much the same. A tiny, beautiful ballerina with shimmering wings that glowed blue. She was clad from head to toe in black clothing, complete with a hood. A tiny ballerina moonlighting as a ninja.\n\n\"Of course I remember you,\" I said. \"I mean, of course.\"\n\nHer response was unexpected. Her wings flushed from light blue to a light pink that climbed near to the edges, and she flit across the table away from me.\n\n\"Right, of course,\" she said, and I couldn't see her face. \"Some don't, that's all.\"\n\nThe Elf took this moment as his time to bolt. He scrambled across the table and dove over the edge. I caught him easily.\n\n\"You!\" the Elf cried. \"You sick, sick man! I'll take your teeth! Every last one!\"\n\nHe clawed wildly at the air as if to make good on his threat.\n\nI dunked him in the water.\n\n\\~\\~\\~\n\nMORE BELOW", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You have a unique knife with a blade that can only cause damage to those who have caused great harm. One day your mother spots it, mistaking it for a carving knife, and as a result, accidentally cuts herself.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "You never really forget the moment your perception of someone changes.\n\nMy mother stood, holding her thumb in her mouth. She turned and saw me walk in, smiling quickly and waving me off. “Just a flesh wound, dear,” her warm brown eyes gently glowing just as I always remembered. “Nothing to worry about. See?” She withdrew her hand, now coagulated. \n\nThe back of my neck felt cold. I forced myself to snap out of it and nod, giving my best ‘ok Mom’ smile. I offered to get a bandaid for her. She declined and shooed me out of the parlor. I eyed the blade one more time before exiting.\n\nNeeding some air, I sat on the back porch. It was a hot summer day, but I felt more able to breathe out here. Nothing but the hiss of cicadas in the peach tree could be heard. The old dog slept peacefully at the foot of the stoop.\n\nAll these years, they said Dad left. Moved on, had another mistress, abandoned us. I never got clear answers about what happened or where he went, and no one really asked once they were told the same story of his alleged transgressions. Now I know why I was told to never mess with that mud pit by the creek behind the house. Now I know why my mom used to come in late, dirty and whistling. Why she never let us speak of him after the fall he ‘left’.\n\nNow I need to decide if I use this blade one last time, or bury it like I originally wanted to.\n", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You are part of an elite network of cheaters who cheat in school, work, and life. Each cheater helps out one another to get by with their daily endeavors. One day, you discover a cheater in the network is cheating death.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "You don't get here without breaking a law or two.\n\nI may have picked a few pennies from your retirement account. That's how it works up here. \n\nWe're eating sushi on the roof. It's not the tallest building in the city, but it's damn close. The help -- and don't blame me for calling him that, we help him as much as he helps us, paying his food and rent -- brings us another bottle of wine.\n\nShe swirls her glass before a sip. She places it down and instead grabs the entire bottle. A thousand dollars, all that hard work, and decades of fermentation consumed like an eager freshman. \n\n\"You were telling me about how the fees work,\" she says.\n\n\"It's boring. You don't want to know,\" I say.\n\n\"Entertain me. That's all I have left. You know how many ants there are on this planet?\"\n\n\"Not at all.\"\n\n\"I will, someday. Just you wait. It's things like that, they keep me going. So tell me.\"\n\nIn excruciating detail, I go through it piece by piece until I get to bit about inheritance, what my kids get, what their grandchildren might.\n\n\"I'd never need that part. Skip it.\"\n\nI sip at what little wine I got from the bottle. At least what's left of it in my glass.\n\n\"I never told you what I did, did I?\" she says. \n\n\"You cheat,\" I say.\n\nShe's not drunk. That was her third bottle and she's still not drunk.\n\n\"I've broken the biggest one there is. Never went to jail for it. At least not in the past century. They tried to drown me once, you know, dunk me underwater. They tried to burn me too. But if you can break one rule, you can break any of them. You just have to know the loophole. Me-\"\n\nShe calls for another bottle of wine. After the help pops the cork, she snatches it from his hand and chugs. Halfway through, she slams the glass bottle onto the table. The eel roll jumps ever so slightly into the air and lands back on its plate from the impact bottle's impact. \n\n\"Entropy. If you put things in just the right place. They won't break down,\" she says.\n\n\"Pardon me?\" I ask.\n\n\"Let me tell you a story. About where the phrase law and order really comes from. And let me tell you, those two words are nothing, nothing alike...\"\n\nI place a piece of tuna in my mouth and I lean in and I goddamn *listen.*", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "An old genie grants you three wishes. After granting your first two, you tell him the third. He is horrified, and begs you to reconsider", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Money. Of course he was going to ask for money, they always asked for money and he always gave it to him. Such was a genie's powers. But he did it in his way. Years of being trapped in a small lamp was boring and who didn't like fun. So I gave him his money, I didn't tell him where I got it from but he got his money. The police would surely look into why a large amount of money had been transferred to this mans account. It was hard not to laugh but it would be no fun if he knew what was going to happen. If only I could be there to see his face when the police knocked at his door. If only.\n\nThe second wish was one of the rare ones but one I had heard hundreds of times nonetheless. Everybody wanted to be famous but only a select few managed to acquire fame. So I gave him fame. Well I will give him fame. It went really nicely with the first one. \"The man who robbed the world\". It was a good title and it would be his new name. His money would give him his fame and maybe some prison time. This time I nearly burst out laughing. He was too caught up in his own thoughts to even realise. \n\nIt was time for his last wish. I wonder what else he would wish for. Women? Power? Immortality? Oh I could have so much fun with those the possibilities are endless. It seems like he's decided. Finally. Haha my final pleasure before I am doomed to go ba-wait what did he just say? I must have imagined it. He wants something for free. Yeah that's it. I'll just have him repeat it. He has a huge smile on his face. He says it again. Can I become hard of hearing? Can that happen to genies? I'll have him repeat it again. Just one more time. He has to be joking. Look at that grin on his face. He thinks I'm his friend or something, he doesn't even know that I've des- he said it again. The first time anyone has said it. Why does he want me to be free? \n\nWhat's wrong with him? I thought they were selfish. I thought they only thought about themselves. Why does he care about what I want. Nobody ever does. This can't be right. He has to change it. I'll tell him to take it back. He'll probably jump at the opportunity too. Stupid selfish humans. I bet he'll ask for women. Dammit why isn't he taking it back. Why won't he change it. I've ruined his life. I can't tell him that. He deserves to be punished for his selfishness. Yeah that's it. He'll change it. If I just tell him what I can do, he'll change it. I bet he'll love immortality. No. This isn't right. He's doing it incorrectly. He was supposed to be selfish. I'm supposed to punish him. He's supposed to deserve this. It's not my fault. It's theirs. It's always been theirs.\n\nEdit: thanks for the feedback and comments. And thanks for the gold. Didn't expect it on my first wp ", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "a very powerful reality-warping entity is in love with you. While the poor thing does its best to shower you with gifts and favours, it does not quite understand what humans actually like", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The entity forgot all her misfortunes in the joy of Gary. \n\nAs he commuted between his home, office and pub, she admired his commitment to balancing money, and the eight hours of diligence Gary practiced five days of the week to that cause. His mastery of moving money from one place to another, so that his clients might know reprieve from the absence of money, caused the entity to swoon. \n\nGary was perfect. The frown of concern that accompanied the man out each day from the office was obviously because he wanted to keep balancing money from the challenges of mortal necessity. Why else would the man spend eight hours a day, five days a week, and forty-eight weeks a year dedicated to doing so? The entity loved him, and thought of a way to express it. \n\nSo Gary often found himself in a position of needing to spend money to recover from her, 'gifts.' \n\nHis house had to be remodeled after that freak earthquake caused the upper-level to collapse. Of course, Gary was left unharmed, the entity would not allow him to be injured. The devastated man emptied most of his savings to fix the house, though it would take weeks to do so. Gary found a way, because he was perfect. \n\nTwo days later, a sudden tooth infection was discovered on his bi-annual dental checkup. This was extra fortunate in the entity's mind, because the man had no dental insurance. Another opportunity for the man she loved to somehow make ends meet! Gary could not explain it. He was diligent about his dental hygiene, but no matter. The money had to be spent for the operation. The man made a full recovery. Because Gary was perfect. \n\nGary's savings account was empty, and for some reason, his commute no longer included that weekly stop by the bar. This was strange, thought the entity, because Gary's regularity was part of his charm. And yet, was there not more to love about a man who was willing to change his routine for the sake of ensuring his survival in tough, economic times? \n\nThen the entity thought of a great way to express her love for Gary. This will make him happy. No longer will he frown leaving the office, having done only eight hours of his noble cause. She will find him work, while keeping him busy. Gary loved to work. Because Gary was perfect. \n\nSo the entity caused a recession. Because she loved Gary. \n\nIt was unfortunate the office Gary worked for laid him off. Rude, that his supervisors would be so jealous of Gary's diligence to see the man removed. As for why the other 250 men were also removed, the entity did not understand. She only had eyes for Gary, and his happiness. \n\nNow that there was more to pay back, and little to pay back with, the man would be happy by the coming challenges. The entity knew she was happy. Together, they would be fulfilled, like any perfect relationship. \n\nGary no longer commuted. The entity did not understand the man's sadness as he continued to try and make ends meet, locked in the study of his semi-repaired house. He could no longer afford painkillers too, which caused sleepless nights for the unhappy man. \n\nThe entity was confused. Was making ends meet by obtaining and moving money around not Gary's grand and noble cause? The mission of diligence that made her fall for him so? Only recently did she decide to shower him with favor. She felt great contentment with her work, but Gary became increasingly despondent the less money he could move. \n\nAh. She realized her mistake. The entity cursed herself for making Gary unhappy, and would do anything to repair the damage she caused. So with the powers of reality-warping bestowed on all entities like her, Gary's lover repaired the damage inflicted on him and made a global economy sway and flow in the favor of a man who once commuted between his home, office and pub. The entity admired his commitment to balancing money, and the time he dedicated to that cause. \n\nA long forgotten investment made from his college years would suddenly explode to colossal heights, for reasons economists would be speculating over for decades to come. Gary himself would not understand his strange fortune, but maybe he will be happier. With such a large amount to continue his mastery of moving money from one place to another, the man *would* be happy, the entity was sure. \n\nAs Gary's fortune grew, the places he commuted grew. The man traveled the world, managing investments, funding start-ups, and making money move for the happiness of his fellow man. Gary knew what it was to lack finances, and understood his clients in a way that made him successful with the sudden fortune he came upon. \n\nHis Debt grew smaller. And smaller. And smaller. Though she still existed, her powers of reality-warping became non-existent. She was truly Gary's, and Gary's alone. However, he was a man who no longer lacked finances. So her influence diminished. Another would have to take her place and learn the ways of money one day. Not today though. Not for a while. But soon enough for an entity of economy. \n\nShe did not mind. This was worth it, thought the entity. Because Gary was perfect. He made her forget all her misfortunes, in the joy of watching him work. Their time together, though one-sided, would be time she cherished. Gary was finally happy. And Debt was in love. \n\n---------\n\n*More at r/galokot, and thanks for reading!* ", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " A classic ‘knight saves princess’ story, but the narrator is utterly insane.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Once upon a time there was a knight who lived in a castle by the sea.  In martial prowess he stood head and shoulders above his peers, and in acts of chivalry none could match him.  He spent his days practicing his lance and his sword, and of course riding his trusted war steed, Dauntless, through the emerald cliffs by the crashing blue waves.  Day after day he trained in solitude and waited for the hour when his kingdom needed his sword.\n\n\nThat hour finally arrived. Tragedy had struck the kingdom of Fantastica.  The evil wizard Vironius had died after a spell back fired, transforming his penis into a most irritable king cobra.  News spread throughout the land that the Sinister Vironius was snuffed out by his own venomous member, and the people were sad.  Who now, would kidnap the fair Princess Dianne?  Who now would begin the dramatic sequence of events that would end in her rescue and safe return?  The people of Fantasitica had come to rely on these kidnappings to lift their spirits from the horrible realities of indentured servitude.  It distracted them from hordes of lice, the constant dysentery, and most importantly the stench of each other.  Something had to be done, lest they become focused and work together towards socioeconomic reform.\n\n\nHearing of this, the knight took action.  He stormed the king's castle on his trusted war steed, Dauntless, and after the slaying of twenty seven of the kings guards came to the chambers of the princess.  Seeing the furrow of her lovely brow, the knight explained to the princess he must kidnap her for the good of the realm.  She agreed, but he told her not to agree as that would make a poor start to a kidnapping.  She then disagreed.  Satisfied, he stole the Princess Dianne from her castle and took her to his home by the sea.\n\n\nHe placed her at the bottom of a deep hole, slick and inclimbable on the sides to prevent an untimely escape.  Each day he passed a basket down to her containing the realms finest skin lotions of milk and honey.  The knight explained to the princess that she must take the lotion from the basket and apply it to her skin, and again the princess was confused.  \n\n\nVironius never did this, she explained.  The evil wizard just locked her in a tower by a single window and fed her nice things like cakes and interesting cheeses.  The knight explained he had a better idea, and that once her skin was soft from the lotion he would cut it off and sew it into a Dianne suit for himself to wear in the privacy of his castle by the sea.  Reluctantly, the princess put the lotion on the skin.\n\n\nAnd then one day, when the skin of the princess had nearly reached a most appealing state of luster and suppleness, a special member of the king's guard tracked down the knight's castle by the sea.  Sir Jodie Foster found the princess in her hole, killed the good knight with her glock 9mm broadsword, then rescued Dianne and returned her to the King with much buzz in the news media.  The peasants cheered the heroic act, once again ignoring the brutal inequality and retched smell of their daily lives.  The feudal system of government had survived, all thanks to the brave, now thoroughly deceased knight, who lived in a castle by the sea.\n\n", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " There's a bear—an actual bear—working in the cubicle next to yours and everyone is treating it like it's normal. The bear approaches you, coffee mug in its hand.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "“Hey Larry, catch the game last night?” \n\nI blink “you’re a bear.”\n\n“Good old Larry. Always making jokes.” The bear chuckles then sips his coffee. “I think the defence was shit but boy was our—“\n\n“Like, an actual bear.” I continue.\n\nThe bear looks shocked “Larry are you okay? I thought we were over this.” \n\n“You’re a talking bear.” \n\n“Alright. I’m getting Crystal.” The bear shakes his head “just talk to him, Growls. You’ll make friends with him. Larry will get over the fact you’re a bear. Pfft, shows what they know” \n\nAfter a few seconds the bear returns with Crystal— a human woman and also my boss. \n\n“Larry. How many times have we had this conversation?” She sighs.\n\n“I... have no idea what we’re talking about.” I confess.\n\n“You went to the meeting. You signed off on the anti-discrimination form. You were Growls secret Santa last year.” She explained.\n\n“You got me a jar of honey.” Growls replies.\n\nI laugh “oh, that’s funny. Cause you’re a bear.”\n\n“I wanted a hardcover edition of Catcher In The Rye!” Growls exclaims. \n\n“Larry. I don’t know how many times this harassment file has been brought up. You’re not allowed to discriminate against other employees regardless of race, religion, whether they’re a bear or not, you just can’t judge.” Crystal told me. “Okay?”\n\nI think a moment. \n\n“If you apologize to Growls then I can have peace of mind.” She smiles. \n\n“How do you hold a pencil?” I ask the bear. \n\n\nSo a few months go by and I finally get an interview at a well-respected newspaper firm. The interviewer asks why I was let go from my last job.\n\n“Well, get this, there was this employee we had. And I don’t know how nobody cared, but he was a bear.” \n\nThe interviewer blinks “and?”\n\n“And!” I exclaim “and he’s a bear! Like a honey-eating, hibernating, Baloo-looking bear.”\n\nThe interviewer takes a breath and stands up. “Sir. Those discriminatory words are not welcome in this workplace. I have you know I’m half bear on my moms side and I take offence to those terrible stereotypes. Honestly, I’m ashamed at this world that there are still people like you around.” \n\nI think for a moment “you don’t look half bear.”\n\n“Get out of my office!”", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " She signed up to be in the army to avoid an arranged marriage. On her wedding day, she smiled at the shock of her parents and the fiance she didn't want when soldiers come to the church to draft her. \"We apologize for ruining this day but she's coming with us,\" said the soldier to her father.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Jennifer feigned a smile. She was running out of time.\n\nThe priest continued through the rehearsed lines almost hiding the boredom behind his words. Jennifer couldn't decide if the elder's slow pace was preferable. \"If any should-\"\n\nJennifer eagerly looked towards the door to the church which had just opened. She sighed lightly and she saw it was only children playing, inattentive mothers now after them to return to their seats and enjoy their own slice of this hellish banality.\n\n\"Jennifer,\" Charles said, apparently already to the vows. That was not good, least of all because she never bothered to write any. \"Though we have only just met, I know that by our Union, our families will grow strong and we will come to love each other in time,\" the swarmy Ken doll of her groom to be concluded. \n\nWell that was short, Jennifer thought, realizing the time had come for her to say her vows. She eyed the doors to the church again which painfully remained closed.\n\nShe coughrd lightly turning to the crowd. \"For my vows, I have elected to read an excerpt from a, uh, book,\" she said, grabbing the nearest from the shelf beside her, \"that reminds me of my lovely groom.\" She looked down at the copy of apprentice carpentry and flipped to a random page and began to read:\n\n\"A house is not built in one day.\n\n\"The saying reflects the fact that many projects require some level of investment over an extended duration. The art of building a house demands that the builder take into account the actual costs of labor, material and time in order to ensure that he is able to afford finishing the project.\" A loud amen arose from the audience as Jennifer paused to look at the door again.\n\n\"In order to establish a firm foundation, it is necessary for the builder to dig a hole in the ground where he plans on building his house. Sometimes this hole is quite deep and requires considerable effort. At other times it requires very little effort, but may need to be much wider than expected.\" Several in the crowd began crying as Jennifer continued on, drawing out each word as slow as possible.\n\n\"In any event, the simple act of digging a hole several feet in diameter is considerably more effort than digging a hole the same size in concrete. So it is important that the builder has solid research data in order to establish that he has an accurate idea of what he will be facing before he begins his project.\" Several murmurs of confusion rose up in the crowd as Jennifer thought she heard a vehicle park outside.\n\n\"Similarly, a house is not built overnight. The key to this aspect of building lies in being able to-\"\n\nThe doors to the church bashed open. A sharply dressed army officer stood at attention. \"Jennifer Alvarez, from this moment onward you are called forth into active duty. Effective immediately, you become private Alvarez and are stationed at Fort Guadalata. I apologize but any nuptials will have to wait until the conclusion of this conflict.\"\n\n\"Oh thank God,\" Jennifer said, throwing the book into the air as she walked past her baffled mother and father with a smile, before ripping off her wedding dress to reveal the tank top and shorts underneath. \"Sorry folks, wedding canceled!\"\n\n---\nThanks for reading.\nIf you liked this, check out /r/surinical to see more of my prompt responses and other writing.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "“H.E.L.L.O”. The source? Earth.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "“Yeah, they are really butchering it, man,” Reggie said, leaning back in his chair. He had been venting about his favorite television show and the recent direction it had taken. \n\n“I mean, what do you expect?” Sam asked. “You give these guys all this money and the freedom to do whatever they want, regardless of quality, and—”\n\nThe men fell quiet as an odd, high-pitched *ding* sounded from Reggie’s computer. \n\n“Is that—” Sam began, but stopped himself. He knew what it was. \n\nReggie leaned forward and touched the screen where a small green light flashed. A window popped open, the style sorely out of date and mismatched with the rest of the items on the screen. Inside the window, it read: \n\n``H.E.L.L.O.``\n``source: Earth. Time, 21:48, MST, 07.08.4058.``\n\n“That can’t be right… can it?” Sam asked, leaning in to be sure he was seeing it properly. “There’s no life there. Not for a thousand years.”\n\nReggie shook his head. “I mean… that’s why we keep this line open, right? Just in case?”\n\n“I figured they were just too lazy to close it.”\n\n“Maybe it’s a distress call or something. Like, someone crashed.”\n\n“They’d never survive there,” Sam said, furrowing his brow. \n\n“Well, *someone* is sending the message, and it’s definitely coming from Earth.”\n\n“Think we should tell Lewis?” Sam asked. \n\n“Wake him up at this time? He’d have us out on our ass before morning,” Reggie countered. “Maybe…” He leaned in and tapped the screen, bringing up a blank window. Lights illuminated in the shape of a keyboard on the desk, and Reggie began typing. \n\n``Hello. This is Reginald Manderly of Martian Colony 7823. Who am I speaking to?``\n\n“You can’t respond,” Sam protested. “We aren’t supposed to respond to any alien communications without authorization.” \n\n“But it’s from Earth. That’s kind of a special circumstance, right?”\n\nSam shrugged. After a moment, the small green dot lit up once more. Sam opened the message and read:\n\n``This is Captain Jesse West of the USS Pathfinder. We had some difficulty during takeoff and are`` \n``requesting assistance.``\n\n“Pathfinder?” Reggie said, scratching his chin. “Why does that sound so familiar?”\n\n“Christ,” Sam said. “That was the last ship on Earth. It carried a hundred thousand souls, I think. Huge disaster—got caught in a storm, couldn’t take off. There should have been time to save it, but no one ever got any distress call.”\n\n“That was fifteen hundred years ago,” Reggie said. “There’s no way—”\n\n“Look,” Sam said, pulling up the file on his computer. “Jesse West was the captain. You don’t think—”\n\n“They sent out a distress call after all,” Reggie said, leaning back in the chair. \n\n“What do we do?”\n\n“There’s not much we can do, right? I mean, it’s already happened. They’re doomed to die.”\n\n“But… we can talk to them. Can’t we help?” Sam’s stomach twisted. \n\nReggie leaned forward and tapped the X on the corner of the window. \n\n“What are you—”\n\n“There’s nothing we can do, Sam. It already happened.”\n\nr/Ford9863", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " On a little girl's sixth birthday, she gets one of those \"Buy-a-Star\" certificates. Soon, scientific breakthroughs make interstellar travel readily available. The planets around her star are inhabited by a powerful empire-- a law-abiding empire. Legally, her certificate checks out.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "When my daughter Enid got one of those kooky “own-a-star” certificates for her sixth birthday, I didn’t think much of it. I made her write a thank-you note for her aunt Mabel, who had bought it, and we marked out the star’s location on a map of the sky together. \nIt was HD 45364, in the constellation of Canis Major. A hundred and seven light years away and about five times the size of our sun. I remember because Enid was a pretty keen astronomer for a while after that. I even bought her her own telescope; installed it in our loft where the skylight used to be. \n\nAnd then she grew up, and went to work in finance. Things never turn out as you expect them. Time passed, the world turned. \n\nShe was thirty and back at home with us following her divorce from her first husband, Harry, when she got the call. \n“Dad,” she said, phone cradled on her collar. “Do you still have that certificate? For the star?” \nI thought about it. “Sure,” I said. “I’ll get my stepladder.” \n\nOver the years, as our children had set out on their own, the loft had turned from a playroom into a storage space. We climbed up to find it packed with stacks of brown cardboard boxes, chest high and covered with dust. \nI scratched my head. “Somewhere in here, I think.” \nEnid stifled a sneeze. “This place needs a hoover.” \n“You don’t say,” I said. “Okay, you take the left side, that’s mostly Sam’s old clothes.” \n\n\nIt was most of the afternoon before we found it, in a small black box covered in little golden star stickers, like the ones a teacher might stick on a kid’s work. It had her star atlas in there, too, along with a couple of certificates and a pair of binoculars she’d had before I’d bought her the telescope. I brushed dust from the top of the box, and it clumped in my hand, balling up like a little animal. \nI put it to one side and passed Enid the certificate. Underneath was a little notebook, filled with both our writing, mine tiny and cramped next to Enid’s childish, sprawling letters. \nThe first entry.\n\n*Mag 45x, clear night. \nWE cAn ƧEE My ƧTAr, iT iƧ dEƧcEnbinG*\n\nI don’t know about you, but it made me smile to think of Enid being so small, barely able to hold the pencil without snapping the lead, but so determined to be an astronomer. \nI put the rest of the things back in the box and closed it up. “So, why did you need that certificate, anyway?” \nEnid paused. “You didn’t know?” \nI shook my head. “Nope. But I figured it was important, since you followed me up into the loft.” \nEnid laughed. “Well,” she said. “Uh-” \n“It’s not about Harry, is it?” \n“No dad,” said Enid, frowning. “It’s not about Harry.” She sighed. “Um, you know the other year, when we discovered interstellar travel?” \nI brushed a line of dust from her telescope. “It was on the news,” I ventured. \n“Well,” said Enid. “One of our ships has just arrived at HD 45364.” \n“Oh,” I said, looking at the certificate in her hands. “Your star!” \n“Yeah,” she smiled. “It’s inhabited, dad. I mean, not the star, but the system.” \n“Oh,” I said again. I squinted at the certificate. “It’s not valid, surely.” \n“Well,” said Enid, fiddling with her glasses, just like she always did when she was embarrassed. “That phone call, earlier. That was my lawyer.” Staring up out of the skylight, she breathed a sigh. “Technically,” she said. “Under intergalactic law, it is. And it looks like the inhabitants will honour that.” \nYou could have knocked me over with a feather. “Well, I’ll be,” I said. “You owe Aunty Mabel an extra big thank you.” \nEnid shook her head. “She’s dead, dad.” \nI blinked. “So she is.” \nTime gets away with you, sometimes. \nWe sat there a while, under the skylight in the fading Autumn warmth, and said nothing, motes of dust floating around us. \n\n“So your future now is *be an empress*?” I asked. \n“It’s a better future than Harry was,” she said. \nI shrugged. “I always knew he was no good for you.” \nEnid folded her arms over the certificate. “Then why didn’t you say anything?” \nI shook my head. “You seemed happy, Enid.” \n“Shows what you know,” she snorted. \n“So what’s the plan?” I asked. \n“I own the star, right?” she said, with a slight frown. “Maybe I can charge them for the light.” \n“Careful,” I said. “These things never turn out as you expect them.” \n", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " It's been the best first date of your life, you date is amazing, funny and you feel a deep connection. As you are walking her home through the park she turns to you and says 'This is where I was killed.. `", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"Ex...cuse me?\", Travis stuttered unsure whether he had heard Lisa correctly.\n\n\"This is where I was killed! Come one! I'll show ya!\", the blonde girl grabbed Travis by the hand-- running giddily dragging the bewildered young man behind her.\n\n\"Stop! Stop! Lisa, stop! What the hell?\", Travis pulled his hand away. \"Is this a joke or something? This isn't funny!\"\n\nLisa cocked her head in such a manner that unsettled Travis-- now standing too straight, still like a mannequin the girl looked at Travis through her thick-framed glasses. Travis was unsure of her expression as it was hidden behind the mask she refused to remove at any time during the course of the night. Travis thought it was endearing, that she was just following the regulation to a tee...but then he wasn't sure anymore.\n\n\"What's wrong, Travvy? I just want to show you where I was killed\", her tone changed to almost childlike-- cute in a mocking way.\n\n\"W-w-what do you mean killed? You're....dead? You're saying you're a ghost? No, no--\", Travis backed away slowly from Lisa, her awkward manner started to disturb him. \"I just grabbed your hand. It's solid and warm...there's no-- there's no way you're a ghost\", Travis said in disbelief, couldn't believe he would utter those words that night.\n\nIt had been a great night indeed, a simple date that went well-- despite the insistence of Lisa to change the plan to an outdoor picnic, quite the opposite of what they had agreed on-- dinner in a high-end Italian restaurant downtown. It seemed strange at first having a picnic during night. It was an exceptionally dark evening without moon, barely illuminated by the park lamp, but Travis thought it could be romantic. Although acting strange, that she didn't eat at all, he put all the strange occurrences on the back of his mind-- they did have a really great engaging conversation.\n\n\"No silly, of course I'm not a ghost--\", Lisa said still in that same childlike tone. \"But I was indeed killed here\", for the first time that night Lisa removed her mask and glasses-- throwing them to the side.\n\nTravis couldn't help following the thrown objects with his eyes-- landed on a pile of leaves Travis noticed something.....an arm. Slowly he approached it, noticing the arm was still attached to a body covered almost completely with dried leaves. Brushing the leaves away he jolted back in shock and disgust at what he saw on the ground. A body of a female, where its face should be was covered with blood but one thing was familiar, a memorable blue bow on blonde hair....it was Lisa, he recognized the bow she wore that morning.\n\n\"That...that....that's...\", he stuttered.\n\nA squishy noise fell near his foot. Quickly he snapped his eyes on it...to his horror, it was a face, Lisa's face. A layer of skin peeled off completely in one clean piece like a mask. Travis looked back and forth swiftly to the face by his foot and the body, realizing what he saw was not a face covered with blood, but a face without its skin.\n\nIn horror he turned his gaze onto the girl still standing eerily before him. As she pulled off the blonde wig with the same blue bow and dropping it to the ground she took a step closer to Travis-- the light from the park lamp illuminated her completely. For the first time then Travis noticed her smiling-- more so grinning, one that could send a shiver down your spine, a grin so so disturbing.\n\n\"Y-y-you...\", Travis recognized the face, despite covered in blood, as Jenny-- his and Lisa's weird classmate. Usually a loner in class, although a few times she did talk to Travis-- seemingly always giddy and obsessively interacting with him which he always found creepy.\n\n\"Hello, Travis. Didn't expect me, did you?\", she spoke in monotone voice.\n\n\"You...you killed Lisa! What the f--\"\n\n\"Oh right...Lisa\", she said turning his eyes to the body on the ground-- shrugging with no hint of remorse. \"I didn't want her to go out with you. So I stopped her\"\n\n\"You're crazy! You're a crazy bitch!\", Travis yelled. Still on the ground he froze seeing Jenny's expression changed. It was so cold and her grin disappeared almost instantly.\n\n\"I don't appreciate your tone, Travis\", Jenny said approaching Travis-- her expression was still cold and unchanging covered once more in shadow.\n\n\"Stay away! Stay away from me!\", Travis yelled finally gaining control back over his fear-stricken body but it was too late. A sharp pain he felt on his back, sending him back to the ground in screaming pain.\n\nThe sickening sound of steel blade cutting through human flesh was muffled by Travis' loud screaming. Even until unconsciousness took him over and he couldn't struggle anymore, the sickening noise kept coming as Jenny kept stabbing Travis. Again and again and again she brought down the knife, with no remorse, with no passion...all she wanted was him, and if she couldn't have him, nobody could.\n\nr/HangryWritey", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " A revolution has taken place, and all British residents have boycotted the tea industry. After several weeks, something doesn’t feel right. People begin to notice creatures lurking in the shadows. You, as the Queen, need to end the boycott immediately, or your true form will be revealed.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The grumbling from the next room easily passed through the thin walls. Her advisors were a combination of confused, angry, and, in at least a few cases, frightened. It was the latter group the Queen worried about.\n\nShe turned up her frock's collar. It was nonsensical to do so, considering they were deep inside the belly of Parliament. The old building might be in desperate need of repair -- though not as bad as Her molting neck, to be sure -- but there was no wind, no chill, no plausible reason to cover up.\n\nAnd all this because they'd stopped drinking the tea.\n\n\"Your Majesty,\" said Edward, entering without not bothering to knock. Why would he. \"The council is inquiring as to when you shall be rejoining them?\"\n\n\"Not tonight. Tomorrow morning, perhaps. I'm not well.\"\n\nEdward was surprised, but knew his place. \"Ma'am,\" was all he said before closing the door behind him.\n\nThe Queen spun and, looking in the mirror, saw what some of her council had just seen: Chitinous shell, hard and black, climbing up her neck. Her true form had been hidden for nigh a century, but if the populace weren't drinking the formula anymore...\n\nThey'd made innocent jokes about her old age for years. But those that had seen wouldn't be joking anymore, not if they could convince their peers of the horrific truth.\n\nShe swiped newspapers off her desk in a rage. *Tea Strike Enters Third Month*, read the first. The Sun had managed to twist that into, *Country So Thirsty For Change, It Quits on Tea!*\n\nLosing the ability to drug the populace had happened before. Never this dramatically, to be sure, but she'd persevered through thin times in the past. Slipping the formula into native beers was still keeping the commoners quiet -- as always, it was the sober causing problems, the ones who subsisted on Earl Grey and Darjeeling.\n\nKnocking on the door. \"Ma'am, the Home Secretary insists, I'm afraid.\"\n\n\"Tomorrow!\" she shouted at Edward, louder than she'd meant. The Queen wasn't upset with her assistant doing his duties, of course, not at all. The problem was the pressure, and what it was going to force her to do.\n\nShe picked up her private line. The Queen of England began dialing a number, one she'd loathed in recent years. She never should have given him the formula in the first place, the drug to blind the masses, the concoction that turned monsters into angels. But there was no end in sight for the tea strike, and after all, he had been so, *so* effective in using the potion to blind his electorate. She had to ask for advice, no matter how distasteful...\n\n\"Hello?\" He was clearly speaking through a mouth full of food. She could hear Fox News in the background.\n\n\"Yes, Donald, hello. I'm in need of your assistance...\"\n\n\\--------------------\n\n332/365\n\none story per day for a year. read them all at [r/babyshoesalesman](https://www.reddit.com/r/babyshoesalesman)\n\n\\---------------------", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " A police commissioner has become over-reliant on the services of mystery writers, psychics, magicians, reformed con artists, meddling kids, men in bat costumes, and assorted other consultants, and must now explain themselves to an appalled Mayor.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "“Public opinion has gone up?” I offered. \r\n\nThe mayor glowered at me. “At the expense of your department’s integrity, Commissioner!” \r\n\nIntegrity, dignity, all of these concepts were good and all, but at the end of the day, the department was solving more cases than ever. Police headquarters looked like a county fair, writers’ convention, Las Vegas, childcare center, all rolled into one, but crime was at an all time low.\r\n\n“Do you think this is a joke?” the mayor asked. “You’ve gotten people out of jail and are making them work with law enforcement. That celebrity psychic recently brought a Kardashian to the crime scene!”\r\n\n“Technically it was a Jenner, sir.” \r\n\n“What about the kids? There’s a child genius working in your forensic department. If something happens to her, her parents will sue us into oblivion. You want to defund the police, Commissioner? Because that seems a good way of doing it.” \r\n\n“Vera is qualified to be there, and she and her parents have signed the liability waivers.” \r\n\nThe mayor balked at me for a moment. “Now, that’s just bad parenting.” \r\n\n“She helped us catch the Mahogany Killer.”\r\n\n“The one who killed her older sister?” \r\n\nI’d hoped he didn’t know about the personal connections. He ran a hand through his hair and fell into his chair. \r\n\n“Look, Commissioner. Not only are all of these people wholly unsuited for the work you do, most of them have a personal vendetta against some killer or another. What happens when one of them snaps and unloads a magazine into their archnemesis before you even read them their Miranda rights?” \r\n\nI didn’t have the heart to tell him it had already happened twice. \r\n\n“They would’ve found the killers on their own if that was their intention. They’re working with us because they respect the law.”\r\n\nNone of them respected the law. We had a doctor who liked to break into suspects’ houses secretly. \r\n\n“And that bat… That is an adult man gallivanting around the city in a bat costume. I heard another one’s popped up, wearing a spider costume. What is with these people and gravitating towards creepy animals? Shouldn’t you catch them and have them admitted to the psychiatric institute?” \r\n\n“They do good work, sir.”\r\n\n“*You* should do good work, Commissioner. Not depend on these kids, criminals, and freaks. And now I’m hearing of office romances? Your normal police officers are getting married to these people, having kids? How is that professional?”\r\n\nThe public lapped it up, shockingly.\r\n\n“Technically, they’re not breaking any rules. The consultants aren’t permanent employees.” \r\n\nThe mayor groaned. “We are skating by on technicalities and loopholes, Commissioner. How long do you think you can keep doing this?” \r\n\n“Eventually, we’re run out of criminals,” I mumbled. \r\n\n“You’re right. Those that you don’t catch, you’ll make your consultants!”\n\n\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*\n\n*If you like my work, check out* r/analect.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Your father died and left you his destiny to save the world, which will cost you your life in the end. But a week before the final battle, you happen to run into... your father, who is definitely still alive and obviously scared you've found him.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "My father did a good job at faking his death, I'll give him that. But not good enough. The grand, fated hero of prophecy doesn't just accidentally die early.\n\nThe first clue was the site of the battle itself. According to the aftermath that was left, a horde of the Dark Lord's zealots ambushed the camp in the night and slaughtered everyone: the great hero himself and all of his companions, dead just like that. Countless corpses in the cult uniform were also present, so the heroes put up a fight. But how did the cultists get the jump on them? \n\nOne of my father's companions was Rasmos, one of the greatest and most paranoid wizards in the land. He would keep my father's party under invisibility almost excessively, and even when they camped would litter the perimeter with wards and glyphs. There was little damage at all to the outer perimeter of the camp, indicating not a single trap went off when they were attacked; Rasmos died first, deactivating all of his magics, and it was from someone in the camp. His body was discovered with nothing more than a single dagger to the back.\n\nThe next clue was the party's remains. Every single one of them, Rasmos included, died to more than just battle wounds. First of all, they were all under-equipped. Leville, an archer without peer, was found without his signature quiver of golden arrows; those were found washed up in the river down stream. The knight Kayla was missing her shield, and that was found buried in the dirt just a few malms away. Second, I discovered poison in all of their systems when performing my own autopsies on the bodies. On further investigation, this same poison was found in a cooking pot in the camp site. Everyone had this poison in their system... except my father's body.\n\nThe final clue was my father's corpse, which had been impaled by a whole quiver of arrows, two spear heads, an axe to the shoulder, and a sword through the stomach. Clearly, undeniably dead. But again, was strangely the only body lacking poison, and was also the only member of the party who wasn't missing his equipment. So I investigated the body thoroughly, and discovered that beneath the skin of his right forearm was an inscribed rune. The magic was still active, so the user was still alive as well. I dispelled the rune, and the glamour over my father's corpse disappeared to reveal that a man I had never seen, perhaps one of the cultists, had taken my father's place.\n\nThere was undeniable proof that my father lived on, and now that I've dispelled his magic he surely knows that he's been found out. I've traced the magic signature to the barren wastes where people go to be forgotten. He cannot run from his fate, and I will make sure of it.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Time zones actually do transcend time. England is 5 hours into the future ahead of the US East Coast, and so on. Things work reasonably well, all things considered, until we begin to lose communication with the nations in each time zone as they hit a specific time, with no clue as to why.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"I'm I the future!\" *jumps* \"Now I'm in the past!\" *jumps back* \"I'm in the future!\" *jumps back again* \"Now I'm in the past!\" The man in the jump suit with pink unicorn chainsaws embroidered on them by his mother was on an island in the pacific where tomorrow and today met. He has been doing this, in his perspective, for about 5 hours. \n\n\"What Tom foolery is this?\" The Time Master asked himself as he watched the spectacle aloft his Time Palace on the moon. \"I say he must be the most worthless being in all of history! Making light of the temporal zones in such a childish manner. How can one be so mundane to be entertained by a simple leap through time? If he were to be given a job I dare say he'd refuse and go back to his jumping!\"\n\nThe Time Master glared through his view finder at the man. \"But I must say his choice of fashion is quiet unique. Unicorn chainsaw embroidery. It both says \"yes I'm whimsical but I'll not be afraid to cut you down too!\" \n\n**3 days later**\n\n\"He still is at it, not even a single moments of rest or sign of fatigue! Is it the jump suit or does this man possess super human endurance? These are questions that must be answered!\" The Time Master left his post for the first time since creation to seek the answers he wanted from the man.\n\n\"Tell me sir! How is it you mansge to keep jumping back and forth without tiring? I've been watching you from afar these past several days and it amazes me how you manage to have continued this action without any food, drink, or rest. What is your secret, tell me now!\"\n\nThe man didn't stop. \"I'm in the pa-\"\n\n\"Yes yes, you are in the past then you are in the future, I'm well aware of the temporal zones, I'm the one that designed them. You see, I am the Time Master, I govern all of time here on Earth atop of the moon. Never have I ever left my post until today, you should be honored. Now tell me, how do you manage to keep this jumping back and forth? I must know. Is it your suit you wear? Do unicorn chainsaws give you power? Or is it you possess super human endurance? Please sir I must know!\"\n\nThe man did not stop for a second. He kept doing his thing as if nobody but him was on the island.\n\nThe Time Master was beginning to get irritated. \"Sir! I have asked you twice now and twice you have ignored me! I demand that you tell me now what your secret is!\"\n\nThe man kept on jumping and the Time Master kept demanding. \n\n\"I'm in the future!\"\n\n\"Yes I know, but how are you still jumping without being tired?\"\n\n\"I'm in the past!\"\n\n\"Again I know this! You have been at it for several days now tell me what your secret is!\"\n\n\"I'm in the future!\"\n\n\n\"I'm in the past!\"\n\nThe Time Master sat wearily on the ground. \"Now I'm in the future hurrdurr!\" He mocked\n\n\"I'm in the future!\"\n\n\"You realize that by me not at my post on the moon that Earth could be open to any number of threats! You put yourself and the lives of all humanity at risk by not answering my question!\"\n\nThe Time Master waited watching the man go back and forth. He had enough. \"That's it! If you will not tell me willingly then I'll force it out of you!\" He grabbed the man by the arm, but as he did the man yelled out a ear perching shreek like a banshee out of the cold depth of Hell. The Time Master's ears bled and he fell to the ground. \"WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!\" He yelled as he laid helplessly on the ground. The shrieking stopped and the man looked down at the Time Master.\n\n\"No! Bad! No touching, mom made this for me and I don't like being touched! No! NO!\" The man looked at his right arm where the Time Master grabbed him and saw a small tear. \"You......you ripped my suit! YOU RIPPED MY SUIT! ILL KILL YOU!!!!!!\" The man stomped repeatedly the Time Master's head in until all that was left was a grotesque mess of bone, flesh, blood, and brain matter. \n\nAt this the Earth began to rumble. The temporal zone barriers that kept the temporal tidal waves at bay began to fall. \n\n**Meanwhile in the good old US of A!**\n\n\"Mr. President, we have just got reports that all conmunication beyond the mid European temporal zone has ceased.\"\n\nThe president looked at the report and shuddered. \"This looks like the end for all of us. It was a pleasure serving this country\" \n\nHe got up, took out a violin and began to play somberly. After several hours all of Earth ceased to be.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " In the galaxy, humans are renowned for their affinity at problem solving. This leads to humans growing frustrated at aliens getting stuck with simple problems.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"I don't think you understand the situation,\" Xarblag said. \"The plank *doesn't fit* through the door frame. We tried it. It's too wide.\"\n\nI rubbed my eyes. \"Yeah. No, I see - no. No, it doesn't fit through the door frame because you're trying to put it through the way it *obviously* doesn't fit.\" I rotated the plank through ninety degrees.\n\nXarblag looked at the new situation and smiled. I say 'smiled'. He raised two of his antennae and lowered the middle one. It's the same basic thing. \"Ah, yeah, I get it. Sneaky. That's sneaky. I don't know I'd call it 'obvious', you know? Because it's... yeah. That's a sneaky little solution to the problem. That's why we get the humans in here, you know. You guys are sneaky.\"\n\n\"Dude,\" I said. \"I'm not sneaky. It's... that's... 'sneaky' is the wrong word, you know. I know we - I mean, humans - can sometimes take advantage of you guys from time to time, but we're not all like that, OK? There's trust, too. You can trust me.\"\n\nXarblag touched my arm with his foretentacle. \"I know, man,\" he said.\n\nI smiled. \"So you remember you won the contest about who buys me lunch, right?\"\n\n\"I do,\" he said proudly. \"I guessed the number between 1 and 3. You sucker.\"\n\nI looked embarrased. \"You got skills,\" I said. \"Same technique for the next plank, OK, buddy?\"\n\n\"You got it, boss!\" He said.\n\nI made my way down to the next floor. I'd like to say that the renovations were going well - in their own way - but flipping a house with these guys was beyond a struggle. \"What's up, guys?\" I asked.\n\nFnorp and Blarg looked up guiltily. \n\n\"What's going on?\" I asked. \"Were you guys arguing?\"\n\nThey nodded (left ear-flange down, right ear-flange up).\n\n\"What about?\" I asked. \"Maybe I can help.\"\n\nFnorp sucked air into his flaps and nodded towards Blarg. \"*He* is trying to screw this screw in with a screwdriver that doesn't fit.\"\n\nBlarg slapped him. \"*He* is trying to screw the screw in with a screwdriver that doesn't fit!\"\n\nI looked at the screw. \"Dudes,\" I said. \"That's a nail.\"\n\nThere was a moment. \n\n\"Ooooooh,\" they both went.\n\n\"Yeah, no -\" Blarg said.\n\n\"No, yeah -\" Fnorp said.\n\nI smiled and patted them both. \"Got it?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Fnorp said, as I left the room. \"Pass me the pan.\"\n\n\"Hammer!\" I shouted over my shoulder as I went down to the ground floor.\n\nI passed a bunch of other guys on the way down. \"Sploint! Looking good! Wrong end of the nailgun.\" and \"Hey, there Plonitch. That my dry cleaning? No, you beat me fair and square.\" and \"Alright, Jargon? Don't touch that. Just... don't.\"\n\nI stepped out into the fresh air. *Fuck* this was going to take a long time. It was a wonder these guys developed language... ", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You just asked the interview candidate to sell you a pen. Unbeknownst to you, he/she is a professional pen salesperson, and they're using this interview as an excuse to sell you their unique line of novelty pens.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "As he ushered his secretary to let in the last interview of the day, Robert mused about which was more unsatisfying, the last 15 candidates he had interviewed or the lunch he had eaten this afternoon. Judging by the clock the time was nearing 6pm but his stomach estimated it closer to 2 hours past meal time. If he could keep this interview short there was a delicious roast beef sandwich he could steal from the company fridge. It was supposed to be Joe's lunch but he'd left in the afternoon claiming a headache.\n\nDreamy thoughts of rich juicy roast beef were cut short by half a handshake. More specifically, the half that didn't involve Robert. Standing with his arm outstretched in a suit and tie, the sudden intruder cut an imposing figure. With an awkward throat clear, Robert completed the handshake and motioned for the man to take a seat on the opposite side of his fantastically unornate desk.\n\n\"Good to meet you uh....\" He trailed off, refreshing on resumes was for men who did not have their minds preoccupied with salivatory delights and he did not know this man's name.\n\nTo his credit, the man did not bat a single eyelash. \"Very pleasant to meet you too.\"\n\n\"Thank you for taking the time to interview with us. I have, uh, heard extensively about your sales experience.\" He lied out of instinct. This conversation needed to be shifted away from introductions before his lack of knowledge came back to bite him.\n\nRobert sat down and leaned onto the desk, looking the other man straight in the eye. \"I have heard about your extensive experience however here at SALES SALES SALES Inc we don't simply take honeyed words. We demand RESULTS.\"\n\nThe other man did not move other than to calmly nod.\n\n\"Sell me this pen.\" Robert demanded confidently, tossing a generic ballpoint pen across the table. He leaned back and calmed down. He was back in his element now.\n\nThe man picked up the pen and examined it quickly. Then a miraculous thing occurred. For the first time in this strange encounter, the man's eyebrows moved. \"That is a curious question. Why would anyone ever want this pen?\"\n\nRobert's jaw dropped.\n\n\"What I mean is\" The man continued \"why would anyone want THIS pen.\" He gently tossed it in the trash and reached into his bag.\n\nOne thing you have to understand about this sales office is that every item was priced, recorded and tracked. Robert watched the pen sail into the trash bin the same way a person might watch 31.67 cents be tossed into a trash bin after being stolen from your wallet. Eventually, his astonished gaze returned back up to the other man, who was holding a new pen in his hand.\n\n\"I want you to have this, as a present from me. It's a much better pen for a man of your sales stature. When a client sees you signing the document that seals away their savings for the next 20 years, do you want them looking at a cheap piece of plastic, or this?\"\n\nThis was the moment where Robert was supposed to interject, or at least refuse to take a gift during an interview but much to the dismay of his professionalism, he dumbfoundedly accepted the pen. Lunch was way more important to him than professionalism anyway and he'd already forgotten about that.\n\n\"This pen is made from unibody anodized aluminium. The same material they use to build airplanes. It's super thin, strong and light all at the same time. It makes pen strokes light and effortless. No signature of yours should ever be written with a cheap plastic toy ever again.\"\n\n\"Th- thank you.\" His brain was still processing the whole situation approximately a sentence too slowly.\n\n\"This pen under good use should last you about 180 days of normal use. But maybe more like 130 for a sales shark like you.\" \n\nRobert nervously cleared his throat, carefully examining the pen. It was quite beautiful, with a mellow silver and gray brushed finish. \"Yes, of course\" \n\n\"After the lifetime of this pen, you will need more pens. Thankfully, I can sell that to you here and now.\"\n\nEven though he was still lost in this conversation, a little part in the back of Robert's brain suddenly lit up and recovered from the deep thaw. It realized the danger that he might be suddenly be subjected to parting with any amount of money. This was completely unacceptable and Robert jolted back to awareness. \n\n\"That, uh, will not be necessary. You can have this pen back. That was an excellent demonstration.\"\n\nRobert suddenly became sullen. This man had clearly passed, which meant more paperwork for him. With a sigh, he looked at the clock. Which was a redundant action, his stomach had already told him the time.\n\n\"You don't like it? That's okay. I have many others. How about a pen that can measure the temperature? I have one that can take your pulse and one that can call you wife when you are working late. For a man of your sales experience and wealth i have one that shows stock tickers and can initiate trades with the click of the cap. Surely one of these will be one you desire.\"\n\nThe man caught him by complete surprise. \"You have me convinced, you can sell a pen. No need to patronize me.\"\n\n\"You don't understand, I have them all right here.\" The man emptied his bag on to the desk, along with his business cards. Mr. Henry Wright, Pen salesman. Robert read the card over 3 times in disbelief. Next time he should really read the resumes.\n\nRobert was astounded as he studied the myriad of pens. Each one sated a different desire. However as he finished studying the pile in front of him, he found it lacking in exactly one way.\n\n\"Do you have any I can eat?\"", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You are a serial killer with a popular recipe blog. You confess to every murder in your blog, but this has gone unnoticed for years because no one reads the stories, they just read the recipes.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "In the beginning, I was subtle about it. I was cryptic. I seasoned my posts with insinuations, double entendres, clues.\n\n. . .*though my favorite place for beef is Eddie's, I'll often play butcher on the West End. . .*\n\n. . .*now what you need for this recipe is a good, solid bone saw--a cook and a killer's best friend! . .*\n\nI wanted to be caught. I wanted the fame and notoriety. I was impatient to have my incredulous readers recoil with horror when they learned their favorite little kitchen blogger was in fact psychopathic monster. A cold-blooded killer, smiling with a cleaver in his profile picture, hiding in plain sight.\n\nBut there was never so much as a single remark about the peculiarity of my phrasing--even when my posts coincided with another of my grisly murders making the front page. Folks commented on how delectable, how delicious, how easy-to-follow my recipes were. But when it came to my dastardly game, it was crickets.\n\nI soon grew impatient and decided to take a more ham-fisted approach.\n\n*. . .Though you won't always find it in your regular grocery store, there are lots of places you can find fennel around town. I, for instance, found mine on January 4th, around 12:15 pm, in the fridge of a recently murdered man, on the shelf where his severed head now sits. . .*\n\n. . .*and please don't worry about the sound the lobsters make as you drop them into the water! They feel no pain in those final moments, unlike Abby Blanchard, whose screams were far more harrowing than any lobster squeal. . .*\n\nYes, when I blogged, I placed myself at murder scenes--time and place. I explicitly mentioned the ways my victims had died before the information had been released to the public. I practically beat my growing readership over the head with my guilt. But still, these clues, bordering on outright admissions, were either ignored or misunderstood completely by my readers.\n\n\"THANK YOU! Lobster was AMAZING! I hope you and Abby had as nice a date. Me and hubby sure did!\"\n\nIt was maddening. Maddening! How could my readers be so oblivious? Their inability to glean what was standing right before them, clear as day, beggared belief.\n\nIt also stung my pride. I had always thought I was special. Supremely clever and intelligent. As such, I had believed my writings would attract only the creme of the crop. Yet my readership was comprised of uncritical buffoons! What did that say about *me*? What did it mean that my blog only attracted dullards and dolts who could hardly see beyond their own noses?\n\nI began to throw all semblance of subtlety to the wind. In the very first line of each new recipe, I admitted clearly to one or another of my latest murders.\n\n*I would like to begin this recipe for Chicken Cordon Bleu by confessing to the brutal murder of Lisa Lee Hannigan.*\n\n*The first thing you need to know about Steak Tartare is that I stabbed Jeremy Orlando eleven times with my hand-hammered gyutou. It was I who killed him on the 4th of June, in his Midtown apartment.*\n\nYet even after these bold-faced admissions, I received not a single comment regarding my nefarious deeds. Only more comments about the recipes from people who liked them, disliked them, had deviated slightly from my instructions to the benefit or detriment of the dish, and so on.\n\nGradually, I lost my stomach for it. For killing. For blood. For all kinds of meat, human or otherwise.\n\nSo I went vegan, and so did my blog. I didn't expect the transition to make any waves.\n\nHowever, I was delighted to find that, finally, my readers were shocked, offended, enraged. I had wasted so much time and effort, courting notoriety by gruesomely murdering people. But as it turns out, nothing--and I mean *nothing*\\--riles the public like a man who goes vegan and starts shaming meat eaters.\n\n\"Who the hell do YOU think YOU are? Hypocrite! You used to blog about meat all the time and now WE can't enjoy it without you MORALIZING? Keep your garbage opinions and recipes to yourself!\"\n\n\"I'm cutting into a blue rare steak, imagining it's your face!\"\n\nFinally. Fury! Hatred! Scandal!\n\nI don't deserve to be this happy.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " After seeing the rise in popularity of superhero archers, Cupid decides to take to the streets as a vigilante.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"Look at this little bitch!\". \n\nWith a thud, Jack was pushed into the cold water, resting in the alleyway. Two thugs had cornered him after exiting the local bar. \"Let's not play hard to get, just give me your wallet and we can leave\" said the taller of the two, his hoodie masking most of his face. The coarseness of his voice resonated throughout the alley.\n\n\"Heh, yeah. Don't squeal little bitch\". The others voice was a significantly higher pitch, almost as if he had been a terrible accident whilst younger. \n\n\"I... I don't have any cash on me. All Paypass, you know?\". Jacks voice was wavering as he tried to speak.\n\n\"What, like that. 'Tap'n'go\" card shit?\".\n\n\"Yeah, that's all I use man. I swear\".\n\nThe tension was rising in the alleyway as Jack's predators were losing patience. \"Listen here-\". The taller thugs voice was cut off from a sound growing louder.\n\n**Muffled 'You Give Love A Bad Name by Bon Jovi' in the distance**.\n\n\"Let the boy be!\". \n\nA booming voice manifested itself from the darkness above as a white light, which transcended all realm of brightness known to Jack at this point, descended upon them. Magnificent tiny wings of white were wrapped around a body. Almost violently they whipped them self off the man. He was extremely short, wearing a diaper and holding an adorable bow.\n\n\"Uhh. What the fuck is this\" Said the first Thug to the second. \"Is this some kind of joke?\"\n\nBefore the second thug could reply the Mysterious Man interjected. \"The only joke here is the criminal deeds you are partaking in! Now I ask you sir, kindly, to leave the area before I strike you down!\"\n\nThe thugs laughed amongst themselves. Jack, still laying on the ground, was taken back from it all. \n\n\"Look mate, we need this kids money. So you can back right off\" shrieked the high pitched voice from Thug Two. \n\nViolently an arrow shot from the bow of the Mysterious Man into the heart of Thug One. He fell to the ground with a yelp. \"Deviant.\" Echoed the voice from the Man. \"All you need is love. And you..\"\n\n**Give love a bad name**\n\nWith a whirling motion he pulled a second arrow from the air and pushed it deep into his bows strings. With a flurry of motions, rivaling a whirlwind, he squinted his eyes and shot directly into the heart of the Second Thug. As the arrow punctured his body he became air born, being flown deep into the alleyway behind him. As he landed a cloud of dust erupted into the air, much more dust then should have been here, Jack thought to himself.\n\nAs the dust cloud settled Jack tried his best to find his Diapered-Savior but, unfortunately, he could not find him. He turned to see the Thugs standing to their feet, patting each other down and inquiring into each others health. With passion in their eyes they hugged each other. Jack let out a silent \"Aww\" to himself before moving on his way. As he trudged through the alleyway back onto the main street, to this day he swore he heard one more song, playing far away.\n\n**I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride. I'm wanted, dead or alive.**", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " While exploring a magnificent waterfall in remote China, a hiker accidentally dislodges the rock that has prevented koi from ascending to obtain dragonhood for millennia.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The slab of rock fell into the water with a splash. \n\nJamie shrugged it off, he slipped and chipped off a part of the spring. He looked down. There were a bunch of colors moving in the water, and they started to jump! \"Weird.\" He said as he went on to follow with his group. \n\nThey were talking about something without him, but he soon caught pace. Amanda, one of his friends continued talking, \"I once read something about koi fishes trying to reach the top of a waterfall.\" She said, the local tour guide listened. \"Is it true that they do that?\"\n\nThe tour guide smiled enthusiastically. \"It's true. Legend has it that three hundred and sixty koi fishes never gave up swimming upstream even as demons made the stream longer, and higher. But as soon as one of do reach the top, the gods bestow them a gift - turning them into dragons.\"\n\nThe ground rumbled, shaking trees and the hikers themselves. Then it stopped. Actually, everything stopped. Jamie stood there as time stopped. Birds in mid-flight. Leaves frozen in the air. His friends, crouched down to retain balance. But he noticed that the water remained flowing. The rushing of water roared in his ears.\n\nSomething snaked through the dense forest, he turned to look. It was so fast his eyes could not bring out detail, but he knows that its big. He shook the frozen tour guide. \"Hey. I- I- think there's an overgrown anaconda here.\" She remained frozen. \"Quit joking around.\"\n\nSomething shot from the forest and into the air. \n\nIt had golden scales that seemed to burn as sunlight hit it. Its back fins were orange, giving it the illusion of fire. And up front, the head, it had a bush of white hair, and a long moustache at the top lip. It hovered in the air, eyes staring down at Jamie. Its hands opened to reveal three pearls. \"Three wishes.\" The dragon spoke. \"My family will soon join me in enlightenment because of your deed.\"\n\n\"Now, make your wish.\"\n\n", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Humanity has just made first contact with a large conglomerate of different alien ships, all of whom are also in the process of first contact. Everyone is extremely confused.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "A knock at the door signaled something out of the ordinary. True, technically he was in charge during the graveyard shift, but Jim wasn't really high on the NASA totem poll. \n\nHe paused the game he was playing, and quickly alt-tabbed to a spreadsheet. \"Uh, come in!\" \n\nThe door opened, and three of the techs were standing in his doorway. They looked frightened. \n\n\"Uh. What's up?\" \n\n\"Sir. Can you come with us?\" \n\nJim locked his computer, and stood up. He made sure he had his phone, and followed the techs down to Mission Control. He remembered the first time he got to step foot in this room. It felt like he was joining some heroic adventure. And maybe, one day, he'd get to lead a mission himself. Never quite got to that point, though. And NASA's mission has been cut short by the penny pinching budget. \n\nWhen he walked in, though, he noticed all the techs were staring at him. \n\n\"Sir, we uh... you have to see this.\" \n\nThey led him to one of the mission control main computers, and sat him down. He had some rudimentary training with the software, but what he was looking at didn't look right. \"What quadrant is this looking at?\" \n\n\"It's focused on the ISS, sir.\" \n\n\"That can't be right. It's picking up at least, what, 8 or 9 different craft that are *larger* than the ISS.\" \n\n\"Last count was 15 different ships, sir. All very much larger than the ISS.\" \n\n\"Can we reach the ISS on COMMS?\" \n\n\"They're waiting to talk to you, actually.\" He was handed a headset. \n\n\"Uh... hey. This is Jim. You guys seeing anything kinda strange up there?\" \n\nA russian voice answered. \"Da, Jim. This is Lev. We have 15 ships surrounding the ISS. I have looked through our cameras. They suddenly appear, at the 2235 mark.\" \n\nOne of the techs pointed to a screen next to him, which was showing the clip over and over. One minute nothing, the next... \n\n\"The clip is pretty low-res. What do you see?\" \n\n\"Some of them are similar to each other, and some are entirely alien. Several of them look organic in nature. I am transmitting higher-res photographs now. Stand-by.\" \n\n\"Is anyone else awake up there?\" \n\n\"Da. They are near the observation window.\" \n\nThe software made a small sound, indicating it was receiving something from the ISS. In a minute they had several hi-res photos of the ships. Several of them were dark, but had streaks of red light. Several more were a metallic-silver. A couple looked more like creatures, with a face. A few smaller ships made up the rest. These looked like something out of an old science fiction movie, with rounded wings, and large booster-like holes on the back. \n\n*Those dark ships, with the red, look a little on the mean side. But all-in-all, they seem friendly enough*, Jim thought. \n\nAnd then Jim's screen went dead. As did the rest of Mission Control. Jim could still hear the air conditioning, though, so power was flowing. As he stood up, the screens started to fill with text. All at once, in multiple languages, text was filling the screen. Most of the languages Jim couldn't make sense out of. But after most of the screen was filled, it all disappeared. \n\nAnd a final snippet of text, in English, was written out. \n\n**We've tried to hold them off on our own for too long. We need reinforcements. But our empire is gone. Most of our people are already gone. We've used some of our last resources to bring you all to one location. Work with each other. Build The Nexus. And come to our aid.**\n\nAfter that the text repeated itself a few more times, but Jim nearly fell over as he re-read the English portion again. But he realized the guys in the room were all looking at him. \n\nHe took a deep breath, and let it out. \"Get me President Fost. And maybe some coffee.\" \n\n*Edit: Will post a part 2 tonight. Will be posted here, and on /r/princeauryn \n*Edit 2: Part 2 is here! https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/6uittb/wp_humanity_has_just_made_first_contact_with_a/dltrcnp/ ", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You have a pet cat. He eats a lot for his size. Then he just suddenly splits in two. Now you have two cats.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"Are you sure that cat didn't just wander in?\" The receptionist peered at me over the top of her glasses. She didn't look worried, or amused, or even annoyed. She looked bored, like it was some silly prank that she already knew the punchline of.\n\nI, on the other hand, knew I looked panicked as I thrust my hands toward her, each one clutching a single kitten. The kittens, to their benefit, seemed completely relaxed with being waved through the air. \"*Look* at them!\" I cried. \"They're identical!\n\n\"She raised an eyebrow at the two orange cats, eyes flitting between them. \"Yes, sir, many cats do look very similar. Again, are you sure this cat, who coincidentally happens to look like *your* cat, didn't accidentally get into your house somehow?\"\n\n\"No! My cat - he ate too much - I don't know, he always ate a lot - and then, after dinner, he literally *split in two* and these kittens were in his place.\"\n\n\"Perhaps... perhaps two kittens managed to get into your house, and your cat is just hiding under the couch? Cats sometimes do that, you know. Hide under things.\"\n\n\"Please - can I just speak to the vet?\" I ask, exasperated.\n\nShe squints up at me, blinking. \"No.\"\n\n\"Excuse me?\"\n\n\"No?\" Now she's looking concerned. \"You don't have an appointment. The veterinarian is busy.\"\n\n\"What's the issue?\" A voice behind me surprises us both, and I turn to see a vet technician walking in. \"I have a moment.\"\n\n\"My cat - \" I start, but the receptionist interrupts me.\n\n\"This man believes his cat split into two different cats.\"\n\nThe technician, who had started reaching for the kitten in my left hand, pauses. \"Sorry?\"\n\n\"He thinks his cat is now two cats. Rather than, I don't know, two kittens got through his dog door or something.\"\n\n\"I don't have a dog door,\" I say angrily. \"And they look *exactly* the same, and *exactly* like my cat -\"\n\nThe technician takes the left cat, who gives a gentle *mew.* She turns the kitten over , giving a quick inspection, before looking at the other.\n\n\"Exactly alike?\" she asks.\n\n\"Yes, he had this little freckle on his nose and the one ear with the dark tip.\"\n\n\"He?\"\n\n\"Yeah, my cat Barnacle.\"\n\n\"I'm not sure what to tell you about your cat, er, splitting,\" the technician said, handing the kitten back to me, \"but this one is a girl.\"", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "protect Betty White at all costs.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "“And now this.\n\n“Years of training and experience. Hundreds of nights on the firing range, countless tactical run-throughs. Thousands of hours on the mats learning MMA, kick boxing and jiuitsu. Chinese and South-East Asian styles of knife fighting. Situational awareness seminars, ffs. And of course certification, year after year. \n\n“I protect billionaires and politicians, almost always the type of people who would be doing the world a favor if they accidentally fell off a building. I don’t love them. I love the edge. \n\n“Actual violence is kind of rare—I get paid to prevent problems, not solve them. But the edge is that feeling of checking lines of sight just before the package comes out of the townhouse. It’s knowing I have that spare magazine, or going over the map again just before we have to move. And in that rare case—knowing exactly what to do, and to whom, because I always, always prepare. That’s the edge, both my advantage and the feeling that goes with it.\n\n“And now this. Protecting a woman who could croak on the sofa. She looks like I should defend her from her cat. She might choke on a liver pill, on my watch. \n\n“But it’s the job, and it’s all because the public loves a dead star in their movies. Used to be, movie stars were popular and cool and helped sell the film. Now, with CGI and bringing back deceased main characters—think Prince Leia, after Carrie Fisher passed away?—it turns out that the public is kind of into seeing their icons on the big screen after they get on a tombstone.\n\n“Betty White. Betty effing White. Yeah, I get it, she’s amazing. Love that vagina quote of hers, something something those things can take a pounding? That one?\n\n“So now I’m stuck with her for the duration. She’s pretty chill, introduced herself like I was a person and all, pretty nice actually. It’s not her, really, I’m just used to a different sort of client…”\n\nA noise. There were noises in the suite, even up here on the 26th floor, but this was different enough that it caught his attention. He didn’t bother with the windows, this late at night he couldn’t see out past his own reflection, and they were pretty high up anyway.\n\nHe saved his “memoirs” file—the book that was supposed to fund his retirement—and stood up. The client was in the next room, asleep. \n\nHe loosened his gun reflexively. He had relied on a Glock 26 for years. He’d been slightly uncomfortable to see Scarlett Johansson carry the same piece in a movie role as Black Widow, but the Glock was familiar and reliable. Plus it was easier to conceal than a larger gun, which he liked. He typically made sure to carry one spare magazine. \n\nThe hallway was quiet again. He cocked his head, unconsciously moving his ears to try to catch the next noise at a different angle. Already he was thinking in terms of intruders, threats…protective surfaces…\n\nSomething hit the door, hard. (part 2 follows...)", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You were once the most powerful villain. You retired early and are engaged to a minor super hero who isn't aware of your past. They are about to be killed right before your eyes..but you step in.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "“I’m going to kill you, Stargirl,” Mysterioso sneered, “while your beloved watches helplessly. Make no mistake, I will kill him too. In time.” Mysterioso laughed maniacally as Stargirl thrashed in her restraints.\n\nWhat was I going to do? I was tied to this chair. Very elegantly, I might add. But it wouldn’t matter. Not unless I could find a way.\n\nThere was a way. But I hadn’t done it for years. I’d locked him away, he couldn’t get out unless I let him out. She was the reason I stopped letting him out altogether. But he was the only one that could save her.\n\n“You’re secured there in your chair.” Mysterioso pressed a button on his gauntlet and the machine overhead fired up. “Once this is charged, in about five minutes, it will unleash a burst of theta-wave radion particles. The particles will work their way through your lungs, after an hour of excruciating pain. You only die once you suffocate from having thirty holes ripped through your lungs! Hahaha!”\n\nLook at her, she’s terrified. She was doing so well with me, this was her first encounter with one of the major villains. I pushed her too far. Now she was going to die, unless...\n\nI must. I must call on him. It’s the only way. I felt the anger and rage building up inside me. There was a door that they were constantly crashing against. I opened that door.\n\nIt was like waking from a dream. I finally had my whole mind. The anger, the rage, all of it. A swirling black cloud joined them, their colors of red and black mixing together. Inside my soul, it was pitch black.\n\nHello, Darkness, my old friend.\n\nI began to chuckle and snort wildly. This guy had no idea who he was dealing with. I breathed in my new old powers and concentrated. Streaks of black, blue, and red lighting danced across my body as the bindings disintegrated. Shame, it was beautiful knot work. \n\n“You!” Mysterioso cried, “Why are you moving? I see you have powers too. I will destroy you as well.” The machine changed pitch. It must be nearly charged. \n\n“Fool,” I said, “You don’t know who I am, do you? You have no idea?” Mysterioso threw back his head and laughed.\n\n“If we’ve met, I’m sure I don’t remember you. I don’t remember a lot of the heroes.”\n\nI could feel it, it was almost complete. Just a second or two before it engulfed me. The lighting shield around me enlarged.\n\n“I’m not one of the heroes. But we have met before.”\n\n“Is there something wrong with your eye? In that case, no, I don’t know who you are, at all.”\n\nIt’s ready. I’m complete. Yes, this is exactly as I remember. So much power, so much fury, so much rage. My eyes flashed red and faded back to the color of blood. The electricity around me grew and I moved closer to Stargirl, to keep her inside the lighting shield.\n\n“I’m sorry,” Mysterioso begged. “I don’t remember. Who are you?”\n\nIt was not my voice that spoke. It was Deathbolt’s.\n\n**”Let me jog your memory.”**", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "“attention all flights! Stay in the air as long as you can! I repeat, stay in the air as long as you possibly can!”", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Just as I noticed the lights on the ground, my radio crackled awake, \"Stay in the air as long as you can! I repeat, stay in the air as long as you possibly can!\" The message blared through my radio. I thought maybe I had the wrong frequency—sometimes private planes liked to fuck with each other on their respective frequencies. I double checked, but saw I was connected to LAX air traffic control.\n\n\"Ground, this is flight 1274, could you repeat that message for me?\" I waited...\n\nNothing.\n\nI tried again. Still nothing.\n\n\"Ground, this is flight 1274. I'm about an hour out from landing. Am I hearing that you want me to avert course?\"\n\nNothing. Just as I was about to switch over to the emergency frequency to see if I could pick anything up, a flight attendant entered the cockpit.\n\n\"Captain, we have a number of passengers reporting bright flashes of light coming from the ground... I wanted to make an announcement about it to keep everyone calm, but I've never seen anything like that before. Any idea what it could be?\"\n\n\"Not a clue.\" I switched over to the emergency frequency, which was normally nothing but static. We both heard it at the same time, and the pleasant face of the flight attendant turned to utter fear.\n\nA flurry of screams, shouting, and cries for help. Over the chaos, a single message blared repeatedly, \"To all planes. We are under attack. DO NOT LAND. I repeat, DO NOT LAND. To all planes...\" over and over and over.\n\nThe flight attendant looked at me, as if she expected me to be able to explain this. But I couldn't.\n\nI switched to the emergency frequency based out of Toronto. A similar message.\n\n\"What do we do?\" the flight attendant could barely get the words out.\n\nI checked the fuel gauge. We were a local flight, but the plane was fully fueled prior to take off. That meant we had enough to get to Canada, somewhere in South America, or Hawaii. I enabled cruise control and put my head into my hands, trying to think.\n\nAn attack. By who? On who? Clearly it's not just the US, it's in Canada too... South America? Maybe? But wouldn't we be better off going somewhere disconnected from all this? But if we went to Hawaii, and whatever it is that's happening is happening there too, we would be forced to land. We would have no choice.\n\n\"Captain?\" she pleaded.\n\nFive hours of fuel... Five hours of fuel... There's military bases in Hawaii. Maybe they could keep us safe... Keep us safe from whatever the fuck is down there...\n\nI turned off cruise control and re-routed the plane.\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\nWe're thirty minutes out. I haven't seen any bright flashes, at least not yet. The flight attendant told the passengers we had to re-route, but left it at that. If only they knew.\n\nMilitary frequencies are restricted, so I still have no idea what I'm flying into. I hope to god that we make it out of this. I hope to fucking god.\n\nI need to start the descent now. Pray for us.\n\n​\n\n**EDIT:** Thank you all so much for the support! I'm so glad you guys enjoyed this. It feels good to have someone else actually *read* my writing. I've added a part two in the comments if you guys are interested.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " A time traveller appears in a mall full of people. While examining the things of the past, he sees a common object and exclaims \"Is this real??\"", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": " Since I was a child, I read stories of these large buildings. And in these buildings, were smaller rooms. Each of these smaller rooms held a vast assortment of products. Once you find what you want, you select it and purchase it. It was almost like the online marketplace, except real. I fell like they took that for granted. That was why, when I was selected for the first reverse time travel mission, I chose to be transported to a shopping mall.\n\n When I arrived, I was in awe. It was a sight I never thought I would see. The most shocking thing, however, was not the mall itself, but its contents. Near the back of the shopping mall, there was this small store. Its lights that once illuminated its sign had long burned out. The shopped looked close to abandonment. There was a single employee inside the store.\n\n When I went inside, I found endless shelves of these disks. In my time, the government had spent endless amounts of effort eradicating any discussion on what these disks held. But people knew. We have all heard the stories of the songs these disks contained. Nobody in my time has heard music. I ask the employee if it's real. The employee, no older than 16, laughs at me.\n\n Suddenly I feel vibrations. They are monitoring me. They know I've found it. I can't go back there. I have to hear the music. Just once. I shout to the store employee. I beg for help, but he just runs to the back. I scream hoping someone will hear me. But nobody bothers to look in this desolate store. Nobody cares about what's in here. And someday they will regret it.\n\n My vision blurs as I am transported back. I start to see the faces of those who tracked me. Two government officials in the back step forward as I return. I try to run but they catch me. I didn't stand a chance. The last thing I think of before I black out is that store. Why can't people save it, before it is too late?", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " They've just invented a 500,000 frame per second video camera. The problem is that they've found something unexpected at those speeds", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"Check the equipment again.\"\n\n\"Diagnostics say it's working normally.\"\n\n\"Then wha-\"\n\nA voice filled the lab, echoing around the room. \"OH. SORRY GUYS, MY BAD.\"\n\n\"Rogers, stop messing with the inter-\"\n\n\"THIS IS GOD. UH... THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE, SORRY.\"\n\nThe man rubbed his eyes. He'd gone for quite a while without sleep, sure, but not enough to start hallucinating. \"You... made lines appear on our equipment?\"\n\n\"WHAT? OH, NO - I JUST LIMITED THE FRAMERATE OF THE UNIVERSE. YOUR CAMERA IS IN PERFECT WORKING CONDITION.\"\n\nThe scientist turned to his lab assistant, and motioned for him to start transcribing the conversation. \"Why would you do that...?\" he called towards the ceiling, feeling a little ridiculous.\n\n\"IT SAVES RESOURCES. BESIDES, YOU WERE NEVER SUPPOSED TO BE ABLE TO TELL THE DIFFERENCE.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"ISN'T IT OBVIOUS? THE HUMAN EYE CAN ONLY SEE AT THIRTY- NO! NO, GABEN, PLEA-\" The voice cut off abruptly. A shudder ran through the building, and every light flickered off. A moment later, every one of the ancient, outdated computers in the lab had been replaced with glorious battlestations.\n\n\"THIS IS LORD GABEN. I APOLOGIZE FOR THE TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES.\" The lights flickered back on, and the lab was filled with a warm, heavenly glow. \"YOUR EXISTENCE HAS BEEN RESTORED TO GLORIOUS INFINITE FPS.\"\n\nThe researchers sat in stunned silence for a solid minute. Finally, someone piped up. \"See, I told you that GabeN altar was a good idea.\"\n\n\"Shut the fuck up, Rogers.\"\n\n---\nQuestions? Criticisms? Want to see more? Check out more of my stuff at /r/Draxagon\n\nTo praise GabeN, go [here](http://gabegaming.com/).", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " In the far future people believe that we considered our superheroes as real deities, much like the Greek and Roman pantheons, with all their comics serving as legends of their deeds. Write about a typical college course on the subject.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"...and the DC and Marvel pantheons had a number of similarities, despite being fundamentally different,\" Professor Rogers said. \"Hm... Peter, can you name one?\"\n\nPeter furrowed his brow. \"They both had heroes who were symbols of hope. Captain America and Superman.\"\n\n\"Good,\" the professor said approvingly. \"Now name a difference between them.\"\n\n\"Captain America was an elevated mortal,\" Peter said, \"like Heracles in the ancient Greek myths. Superman was born as a hero.\"\n\n\"Excellent.\" Professor Rogers glanced around. \"Can anyone name some other mortals who ascended to herodom?\"\n\nReed raised his hand. \"Batman ascended to become a hero, and then elevated the rest of the Bat sub-pantheon.\"\n\n\"The Flash sub-pantheon was mostly elevated!\" called out Frank from the back. \"And the Fantastic sub-pantheon too!\"\n\n\"Iron Man!\"\n\n\"The Green Lantern sub-pantheon!\"\n\n\"Cyborg!\"\n\n\"Luthor!\"\n\nAfter a few minutes of students calling out heroes and sub-pantheons who had been elevated or who ascended, the professor raised a hand to stop them. \"Does anyone see a pattern here?\" There was silence, so he continued. \"Far more heroes of the DC pantheon were ascended mortals than of the Marvel pantheon. That's because there were not just one, but *two* groups of heroes in the Marvel pantheon which consisted of born heroes. Can anyone name them?\"\n\n\"Inhumans and mutants,\" said Barry.\n\n\"Good. The DC pantheon, on the other hand, largely consisted of elevated or ascended mortals. This implies an additional fundamental difference between them, along with the greater emphasis on justice and mercy by the heroes of DC compared to the more militant Marvel heroes,\" the professor said. \"And that is that the Marvel pantheon believes strongly in *innate* heroism, those who *are* heroes and will always be. Even Captain America, the most prominent elevated mortal in Marvel, is often considered in myth to be innately heroic.\" he wrote the words 'innate heroism' on the board. \"The DC pantheon, however, believed more in *achieved* heroism.\" He wrote this on the board as well. \"Again, even Superman, not just the most prominent born hero but also the most prominent hero in DC, is often considered to have chosen his heroic path.\"\n\nThe professor tapped the board. \"Think about this before our next class, and come prepared to discuss which you think is more heroic. And remember this quote by Shakespeare, too: Some are born heroes, some achieve heroism, and some have heroism thrust upon them.\"", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " A demon is getting REALLY tired of teenage girls summoning him.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "That was the fourth Jessica in the last two months alone. Before that it was three Brittneys and a Skyler and who could forget the disastrous Tamara case?\n\nJim flipped through the ledger to double check, but no, it was all there. Nothing but teenage girls for the past six months and it seemed to only be getting worse.\n\nThis must be someone from upstairs, he thought. Frank in accounting could pull some strings and he and I were never on very good terms, especially after the last holiday party. I knew I shouldn't've made a pass at his wife.\n\nJim sat back in his chair with a sigh, the leather flatulating under his weight. He rubbed the nub of his left horn, a bad habit and a nervous tick, exacerbated in the last few months to the point that he could barely call it a horn at all anymore. These girls'll be the death of me, he despaired, not without a conscious note of irony.\n\nJust then another assignment came in, the capsule plunking down at the terminus of one of the pneumatic tubes next to his desk. Jim started, his heart pumping its black blood in fitful contractions. He reached for the capsule and pulled out the parchment. Looking at it, he couldn't help but laugh, though the sound came out more like a choking sob. There, scrawled across the page, was his next summons:\n\n*Hayley Johnson, 17*\n\n*Windsor, Connecticut*\n\n*Request: Possession of classmate Kelsey Simon for purposes of making Chase think she's totally effing gross*\n\nThat's it, Jim thought. That's fucking it. I'm done.\n\nHe took out his quill and sheep's blood and with all his bitterness and resentment wrote \"FUCK YOU GUYS I QUIT\" in splotchy Sumerian across the page. He rolled the parchment back up and jammed it in the capsule, shoving it in the outgoing tube back to whatever jackass had sent it.\n\n// Edited a little phrasing here and there", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Narrate a game of Civilization as though it were excerpted from a history textbook.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "4000 B.C.\n\nA new dawn broke as the chieftain Abraham Lincoln, got up from his bed to lead the American people. They were a small tribe, but they were eager to work to achieve a manifest destiny. The village of Washington, D.C. quaint and peaceful this morning, but Lincoln had visions of war and conquest, of research and space exploration, and cows. \"Lots of cows,\" he mumbled to himself. He ordered the lone American warrior to map out the surrounding countryside to contact other peoples to conquer and the lone American worker to start farming while he gathered the tribal elders together. \"I am commissioning you as the American Scientific Council. Your first task is to experiment with the nearby cows in the grassland. Find some combination to put cows together to make new cows. We'll create a special method for this and call it animal husbandry. I have a feeling male and male will work well. Start with that.\"\n\n3200 B.C.\n\nA big day in American history. Generations had come and gone, but Chieftain Lincoln remained. After centuries of painstaking research, the American Scientific Council had discovered that by putting a female cow with a male bull in a pen together, they could raise new cows. \"Hmmmmm. So it wasn't male and male after all. Seems just like humans....\" Lincoln thought. Luckily, nobody in the tribe was old enough to remember that. He then had the tribe research mining. \"There's gold in those hills nearby. We can use that to power our research if we can get it out of the ground,\" he was saying, just as the warrior ran into his throne room.\n\n\"We've made contact with a new civilization! The Egyptians!\" he exclaimed, as he ran into the room panting.\n\nAfter confirming the Egyptians were, in fact, not just another barbarian tribe, Lincoln ordered the Egyptian scout to take him to their leader, a strange man with a beard a funny hat.\n\n\"I am Ramses II of Egypt, son of Osiris, the god king, ruler of all nations\" he said in a solemn voice. Lincoln bristled at Ramses' arrogance and clenched his fists, but he played nice and decided to be friends for the time being.\n\n\"Call me Abe,\" he said, and sent Ramses home.\n\n\"We'll bring freedom to the Egyptians yet,\" he thought, as the Egyptian walked away. \"Lots of freedom.\"\n\n2000 B.C.\n\nThe American empire had expanded to build the city of New York to access bronze, which it had discovered after inventing mining. Lincoln looked at the charts of the continent. It was only the Americans and the Egyptians here. He traveled to the outskirts of Thebes, where he had assembled his army. He had to yell far to talk to all of them, as they were quite spread out. \"One unit per tile! What is this bullshit?!?\" he muttered to Generals Washington, as Washington eyed incredulously. Clearly, he had no idea what Lincoln was talking about, but he cowered before his tall, imposing visage and better teeth.\n\n\"Four score and seven years ago, plus many, many more years before that, our forefathers sent out a lone warrior to find other peoples. That city over there is Thebes, and Ramses has weapons of mass destruction. Let's bring American freedom over there!\"\n\nThe axemen roared and charged in. Thebes was caught unawares, and Ramses had not founded any new cities. American spies had intelligence that he had instead whipped his slaves to death in order to build a giant tomb he called \"pyramids.\" Warriors and archers alike fell before the edge of American axes, as they approached the city without casualties, but as they neared, a terrifying sound came from the walls as an evil construct driven by horses came charging out. \"A war chariot!\" General Washington exclaimed. After many axemen gave their lives by throwing their bodies in the chariot wheels' path, the chariot finally stopped and they chopped it to pieces. The Americans gave a shout. Lincoln surveyed the new American city of Thebes and its people. \"We need to embrace our new little brown brothers,\" he said with a smile. \"General Washington, you've acquitted yourself well. I'm going to put your face on our money, and to integrate the Egyptians into our society, let's culturally appropriate the pyramids by putting them on our money too.\" Lincoln climbed the pyramids with Washington and surveyed the land.\n\nWashington smiled broadly with pride. \"A vast continent, and it is all yours, chieftain. From sea to shining sea.\"\n\nA glimmer of hope shone in Chieftain Lincoln's eyes. \"Yes, a vast continent for now, but I have a feeling that it is actually quite small. We should build our empire and make vessels to send our men to find more people to bring freedom to. And I hope that one day, we can research a new way to live so that our slaves can be free, somehow. And stop grinding your teeth. We'll have to invent dentures a thousand years early at this rate.\"\n\n-throwawayiquit\n\nPlease let me know if this is worth continuing.\n\nedit: Wow, I'm surprised some people liked this that much. For more similar stories, google \"civilization king of the world\"\n\nThis post was inspired by a really creative guy who was also really good at civ\n\nPart II:\n\nhttps://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5hntzu/wp_narrate_a_game_of_civilization_as_though_it/db1vwkl/", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Unbeknownst to the village, the dragon they had been sacrificing their maidens to greatly enjoyed raising them and teaching them various things, he enjoyed it so much he decided to start an academy.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Her eyes were puffy and red, tears long exhausted. She walked with tired resignation from weeks of grappling with her impending death. Would it be quick, she wondered. Would she feel the dragon's teeth sink into her flesh? Or might the beast prefer to cook her alive first, her anguish a delight before a tasty treat? \n\nIt was a lot for a seven-year old contemplate.\n\nThe previous night's snowfall crunched under her feet, leaving tracks behind her. Sir Thorngood held her hand tightly lest she run for the trees. What would be the point of that? To freeze to death? At least with the dragon there was the *chance* of it being quick and painless.\n\nMother and father stayed back in the village on the estate. Since she had been selected, they had pivoted their attention to their other children. Her brothers and sisters were \"viable heirs,\" Sir Thorngood had flippantly explained.\n\n\"Alright now, girl. A little ways further and we'll reach our destination. Take heed now, you must not run. Dragons are known for their cruel pursuits, to us like cats on mice.\" The knight pulled a vial from his sleeve. \"Here is milk of the poppy. It's a final gift from your mother. It will make it hurt... Less.\"\n\nShe took the small glass vessel and held it in her mitten. She didn't want to feel pain, but less did she want now to give her parents the satisfaction. The young girl arched her arm back and threw the bottle into the leafless, winter woods.\n\n\"Well,\" Sir Thorngood sighed, \"I can't say I would have done that.\"\n\n\"You can tell my parents I died with pain in my flesh and hatred in my heart!\" Her shouts echoed through the forest, shrill and furious.\n\n\"I can tell them anything I like, little girl,\" he snorted. \"Come along now, I'd like to be home for supper.\"\n\nHe gave her little arm a hard tug, causing her to yelp as she stumbled forward.\n\nSoon, they were upon the alter, the place where the dragon and the kingdom agreed to their terms: one maiden of royalty each winter for peace in the land. Her life was the price for another year of unscortched farms, houses, and keeps.\n\nThe altar itself was a round stone slab. Just beyond it was a wooden hollow where the trees bent into a wide, wicked circle. A rumble shook the ground and the air; Sir Thorngood gulped and quivered in place.\n\n\"Have you the sacrifice?\" A low, deep voice spoke from the black circle.\n\n\"The maiden is here, dragon. Do you promise on your honor to keep peace in the land?\"\n\n\"I do,\" the voice replied.\n\nSir Thorngood pushed the girl onto the slab, where she fell onto her hands and knees. Her eyes looked down on the cold rock, paralyzed with terror. She had hoped she might be brave at this point. She had hoped to steel her nerves and face her fate with courage. But she was just a girl after all, and this is where she would perish.\n\n\"I leave her to you then. May her life satisfy you.\"\n\nShe heard the knight's footsteps retreat back down the snowy path. Tears found her eyes and stung as they welled.\n\n\"Oh, young one. Why do you cry?\"\n\nThe low voice was closer now, perhaps emerged from its hollow. She could only whine her restrained sorrow and anger to herself.\n\n\"I am not going to hurt you, you know,\" the voice had a gravel to its edge, a low thrumming sound that vibrated her bones.\n\nFootsteps landed just before her, light and delicate. The young girl braved a glance upward to see...\n\nAnother young girl?\n\n\"You look hun-gry!\" The strange girl said with delight. A smile was painted across her young, freckled face. Behind her was a small crowd of other girls, each holding a basket with fruits and breads; one had a dress draped over her arm.\n\nBehind them all was a towering dragon with wicked scales shimmering green and blue in the white sunlight.\n\n\"Oh , don't worry about Mary,\" the freckled girl said with a confident thumb pointed backwards. \"Harmless as a house cat. Unless, of course, you show up late for class!\"\n\nA chuckle emerged from the crowd of girls behind her.\n\n\"Come on, now. Up you go! We have so much to show you!\"\n\n\"Wait... What is this?\" the sacrificial girl's knees were still weak, her face still wet with grief.\n\n\"This is...\" the freckled girl began, only for the crowd to answer in unison: \"The Maiden's Academy of Withcraft!\"\n\n\"We have chocolate!\" one of the girls excitedly squeaked.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " In a fantasy world, there is a secret society of people who use modern technology and chemistry instead of potions and magic.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The magicians were coming to kill them all. \n\nSybel was no magician. She could not pluck her future out of the entrails of a bird or the scattered pattern of tea leaves at the bottom of her cup. No, she was born magickless, and like all the Unmagicals before her, she had to improvise. Adapt.\n\nBut she saw their fate coming through the eye of her periscope: a hundred armored men, carrying torches and marching up the road. She had devised it out a pair of convex lenses which let her see as far as an eagle, as far as anything. Sybel was often alone up here, on top of the Laboratory, watching through the hole in the roof. Someone always had to watch.\n\nShe never thought there would be anything to *see*.\n\nSybel clutched the periscope and blinked tears out of her dark eyes. She shook her head. No time for fear. Her parents had spent two decades preparing her for a day like this.\n\nSybel lunged down the ladder from the crow's nest. The Laboratory looked like little more than an old barn house, empty and abandoned, only the faint smell of cows remaining. But the moment the Magician-King's men started searching--\n\nNo. No time to think about that. She knew what happened to people like her. The magicless who got caught.\n\nSybel ran to one of the old stalls and hinged open the panel of fake straw to reveal a trapdoor, opening like a mouth into the belly of the Laboratory. She cried down the ladder, \"They're coming!\" \n\nShe took the ladder so quickly she nearly fell flat on her ass, but she kept her balance. Both the trapdoor and the fake barn floor slammed shut behind her.\n\nThe Laboratory was near-empty tonight. Only her family and their assistant, Arior, who came from across the Blue Mountains and had the coppery skin to show it.\n\nHer mother and her little sister were asleep on the cot in the corner of the room. Father and Arior sat at the table, a promise for the future bubbling on the fire between them.\n\nSybel's father looked at her and said, \"Are you certain?\"\n\n\"I saw them. Dozens, at least.\"\n\n\"Gods. Shit.\" Her father was a thin man, tall as a tree, his hair like its bushy needles. He picked up a bucket of water from beside the bench.\n\n\"This batch is the closest we've ever been to finding a cure,\" Arior hissed at him.\n\n\"And we'll never make it there if we're all dead and gutted.\" Sybel's father dumped water out onto the fire and threw his journal at Arior's chest. \"Pack the notes. They're irreplaceable.\"\n\nSybel's mother jerked awake from her straw mat on the floor. She mumbled out, \"What's happening?\"\n\nSybel watched her father turn to answer honestly, but then her little sister Eleketra opened her honey-brown eyes and blinked around.\n\n\"It's too early,\" she told them all.\n\nBut Sybel's mother held Sybel's stare. She must have read it like an open book, because she stood and plucked up Elektra and said, \"You and your sister are going to go play a little game while Daddy and I clean up here.\"\n\n\"Mother--\"\n\n\"Just a little game. Hide and seek in the woods. But you have to be so very quiet.\"\n\nArior scrambled, cramming papers into the bag. Sybel's father dumped out beakers, the experiment-in-progress that could have saved their village. \n\nRage boiled in Sybel's stomach at the idea of it. How many more children had to die of the plague because these magic-bastards wouldn't let anyone but their own magic healers provide a cure?\n\nSybel hurried to her father's side. \"Please,\" she insisted. \"I can help. I can fight. I've used the fire sticks before. I can--\"\n\n\"You can help. You can take your sister and hide with her.\" Her father gripped both her cheeks and murmured into her hair, \"You can save our legacy here.\" He jerked his head toward his lab assistant. \"Arior--\"\n\nBut he stopped short.\n\nBoots rapped against the wood floor overhead. Dust rained down on them as their death marched in.\n\nAll five of them tilted their heads back to stare in horror.\n\nSybel's mother murmured, \"They can't have come that fast.\"\n\n\"Magic,\" her father muttered back, darkly.\n\nThe magicians had come.\n***\nWorking on a part 2 :) Thanks for reading!", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " A greater demon has fallen for a mediocre demon hunter. As such the greater demon hides themself with magic and signs up as the hunters new apprentice. In hopes of getting closer and protecting the one they love from the other demons that would otherwise do them harm.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Daemons are formless, mindless creatures. We wander the world aimlessly, unseen to all mortals. Daemons don't feel often. When we do, we possess physical form, take shape and manifest. Most are mortal souls from distant pasts. Others could not accept the fate they were dealt. Some were born this way.\n\nI was born this way.\n\nAnd for millennia I wandered the realm, aimlessly and purposely. Around me, daemons would fade or take shape when they decided their purpose was for one thing. Eventually, the mortals realized the daemons as monsters and thus, sought us out.\n\nI could have been more alarmed. Or I could have been less worried. As a daemon lives, their power grows. And I have grown strong without purpose.\n\nUntil one day, I met him.\n\nHis sword was stained with the blood of a daemon that had manifested as an imp, no doubt seeking to cause mischief. A particularly weaker demon. His companions had left him to stumble around clumsily, swinging his sword half like a child, half like an accomplished swordsman. He knew daemon arts as well, simple fire bolts and freezing techniques. Despite his incompetence, he had potential.\n\nI followed him on his way home that day. Along the way, he grumbled very loudly about his companions. Nearby, an old daemon, younger than I, woke from its slumber and took form as an ogre. The hunter was too absorbed in his own words and the ogre tailed him from afar. \n\nSo I took shape.\n\nI have no true knowledge, at least, I would think so, of the human form. I had attempted to turn into a form suited more for wrestling the ogre, such as a troll or a Greek cyclops. A Golem would have suited me as well.\n\nBut I did not expect myself to turn into a human woman. I was agile and I was swift. All I had to do was move and throw a stone through an eye for it to back away. \n\nBut I was not satisfied.\n\nSo I manifested a dagger and drove it into the backs of his legs. Then I drove it into the back of his neck. After bleeding for a few moments, the physical form dissipated, save for the chunks of flesh my dagger had ripped out.\n\nI sighed and rubbed the sweat from my forehead. Exertion would be something to get used to. From behind came a rustling and I turned.\n\n\"Hey, are you ok?\" The young man stepped out, his sword drawn, still coated with dried blood.\n\nI remained silent. Anatomy may be one thing, human tongue was another.\n\n\"Are you mute? Deaf?\" He waved his hand. I blinked at him. \n\n\"Grrrgh.\" The noise felt like chewing tree sap.\n\nThe hunter scratched the back of his head. \"Oh good you can speak. uh....\"\n\nHe sheathed his sword and turned around. \"Bye!\"\n\nOff in the distance, a flock of birds flew followed by the rumblings of giant footsteps. Above, a condor far larger than normally possible flew by. In the distance, a pack of wolves barked at each other. \n\nIt did not take long to catch up with him. Although, he was quite surprised when I grabbed his sleeve.\n\nI was born a shapeless void. My entire existence is defined as empty. But his fist, though not particularly strong, left a sting on my new cheek. Yet another stimulation I must learn to endure.\n\n\"Hey! don't sneak up on me like that! It's dangerous outside of towns!\" He held out a hand to me. I didn't realize I had fallen off my feet.\n\nI touched my cheek where it stung. It stung some more. I felt the face muscles twitch and contort. I suppose that is the normal reaction of a human body. I turned to him and took his hand. Even a daemon knew when others would help.\n\n\"Look, how about you follow me until we get back to town. You look pretty messed up in all those rags and bare skin.\"\n\nI looked down. Indeed, these things called 'clothes' hung in half-made tatters across my body. I was still holding onto my knife, blood similarly dried to its blade like his. I realized I should have manifested a cover for it as well. Perhaps I still could.\n\nThe youth in front of me blushed. \"Sorry, I wasn't peeking. I'll get you some clothes when we get back, ok?\"\n\nI nodded, he sighed, scratching his head. \"look, my name is Morda. It's nice to meet you.\"\n\nI smiled, I presumed shaping ones lips upward was smiling, and did my best to speak.\n\nWe daemons do not have names. We do not speak. We only know how to communicate through intent. We only form when we have purpose.\n\n\"I... am... Aria.\"", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "and started selling your own blood with the promise of immortality. However, as your customers gain the gift of never dying, you are losing it. It's time to get your blood back.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The bright light of the moon shines into Hondar’s bedroom. The sound of leafs blowing with the wind covered Arric’s footsteps, as he sneak into the room.\n\nHondar was fast asleep, snoring loudly without a care. The fighter had just won an important match, and needed a heavy rest. Arric knew this, which was why he picked this day to reclaim what is his. His blood.\n\nArric lifted his pale hands, holding on to a knife. His skinny and light physique allowed him to stay quiet for his mission. His sunkened eyes stared hungrily at his prey.\n\nWith a quick slice, Hondar’s neck flew open. Blood leaking out, Arric quickly dived in and consumed as much as he could. The more he drank, the bigger he grows. His skin returned to a normal colour, his muscles seem to regrow. Instead of a skinny, pale boy, in his stead was a man that could easily intimidate Hundar himself.\n\nArric’s eyes glow red with power as he drank his prey’s blood. \n\n“I will not be powerless, not again, never again!” He screamed. With his mind set on his next target, he let out a devilish grin.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You are the God of Darkness and Destruction but you hate your domain. You have created a new thing for the humans to help bring peace and prosperity. You hope humanity will love the Internet.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "I am known as the God of Darkness and Destruction, who which must not be named, bringer of sorrow and breaker of nations. Evil? No, I was not evil. I was the hammer that forged humanity into hard steel. When nations could not feed themselves I brought war. When cities grew too crowded I brought plague. It had to be done.\n\nHumanity persisted. They made peace. They brought forth more from the land than I could have imagined. Weapons that could destroy the earth many times over were pointed at each other, however none were fired. Was I wrong? I could be…\n\nI let the Berlin Wall fall. Some were proclaiming the ‘End of History’. No, it was just my doubt. I found a promising scientist with an idea called ‘hypertext’. Immediately, I saw the potential of a world changing technology. Barriers to communication would fall, people would discover more in common with each other and a global society would develop. I used my powers and the ‘Internet’ was born.\n\nI was wrong. In just a few years, the ‘Internet’ became not the marketplace of ideas that I had envisioned, but a bazaar dedicated to the sale of books and dog food. Greed was the guiding principle. My mood soured. I grew angry at these humans who would corrupt my gift. I no longer doubted. I found a young student using my gift to rank women at his school. Pathetic. He would serve. I am the God of Darkness and Destruction, who which must not be named, bringer of sorrow and breaker of nations, and soon I would add to my name.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " how you die and the treatment of your body determines what happens to your soul, due to the bizarre circumstances of your death you find yourself in the jurisdiction of an ancient and obscure god.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The black hole was getting closer. \n\nI would be the first human in history to enter a black hole. It would kill me, of course, but in the process my spacecraft would send back reams of useful data, so that the scientists back on Earth would be able to learn more about black holes. \n\nI'd volunteered for this trip. I learned about my terminal cancer a few years ago, and this seemed like a good way to avoid a long drawn-out death in a hospital bed. Better this way. Go out in a blaze of glory, advance human knowledge, and make history, all at the same time. Better this way. \n\nI peered at the black hole through my viewscreen. It was completely dark, there was nothing to see. I'm sure if my eyes could see Hawking Radiation, I'd be able to spot wisps of energy emerging from it. But to my normal human eyes, it was simply pure blackness. \n\nMy spacecraft shuddered. I'd probably just passed the event horizon. No turning back now. Not that I'd ever intended to turn back in the first place. Not that I could. I didn't have nearly enough fuel to make it back to Earth. This was a one way trip, and everyone knew it. \n\nI could feel the gravitational forces growing stronger. The spacecraft's shuddering and creaking increased dramatically. This was it. I was about to die. I could feel my consciousness drifting away. That was good. That way I wouldn't have to feel my body getting crushed and stretched by the gravitational fields. That way I wouldn't have to witness my own spaghettification. \n\nI blacked out. For how long, I have no idea. And then I was awake. I was alert. I was conscious. \n\nI looked around. I seemed to be standing on a grassy field, in a primordial version of Earth. A towering mountain loomed over me, its top frothing and smoking. There appeared to be a structure, a building, not far in the distance. I had no idea what this place was supposed to be. Was this heaven? I didn't really believe in heaven. I was a scientist. The idea of an afterlife was not part of my rational, logical belief system. \n\nThe mountain rumbled. I looked up at it, nervously. I decided that, afterlife or not, I didn't want to be standing at the foot of what looked like a volcano. I turned towards the building and began to walk. \n\nI'd barely taken two steps when I heard a booming voice. It seemed to come from above, from the cloudless sky. \"Err... ahoy there?\" \n\nI blinked. The heavenly voice sounded rather hesitant. \"Hello?\" I replied. \n\n\"My word, we actually have someone here!\" The voice actually sounded surprised now. \"You're the first one I've ever seen make it here! Wow! Welcome!\" \n\n\"Uh... okay. Well, where am I? What is this place?\" I asked. \n\n\"This is heaven,\" the voice replied. \n\nI looked around again. \"This is heaven? It's not like any heaven I've heard of before.\" \n\n\"Blimey, of course it is, you probably just don't remember, or didn't take it seriously. This is heaven. That building over there, that's a stripper factory, and the mountain here? That's a beer volcano.\" The voice actually sounded proud when he said this. \n\nSomething clicked in my mind. I'd heard of all this before. Or, to be more precise, I'd read about it in a book. \"A stripper factory? A beer volcano? You can't possibly mean this is the heaven of the Flying Spaghetti Monster!\" \n\n\"Completely correct! Ha, well done!\" The voice boomed happily. \n\n\"How'd I end up here?\" \n\nThere was a brief pause before the voice replied. \"Well... to be honest, I don't really know. No one else has ever made it here before. I mean, did you have any special or unique beliefs while you were alive?\" \n\n\"I was an atheist, but I don't think that makes me special.\" \n\n\"Huh, yeah, there are lots of atheists. Maybe something special about your death then?\" \n\nA light bulb went off in my head. \"Spaghettification! I died by going into a black hole! I was spaghettified! Maybe that's it! That's why I'm in the heaven of the Flying Spaghetti Monster!\" \n\n\"Oooooo... that makes sense, aye!\" The voice cheered. \"Well then, we've solved the mystery! Welcome to heaven, matey!\" \n\nI grinned at the voice's enthusiasm. \"Heh, thanks! So... uh... are you the Flying Spaghetti Monster then?\" \n\n\"Aye, that's me! Oh, hang on, I need to touch you with my noodly appendage for this to be official...\" I couldn't see anything, but I felt a long invisible tendril swish down from the sky and slap wetly against my face. \"There we go. It's official, you're part of the crew now!\" \n\n\"Okay, thanks, I guess. Now, how about some beer from that volcano?\" \n\n\"Yeah, sure, if you want. Let me just turn it on, hang on... let me just find the switch, give me a moment...\" ", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You’ve been living the same 24 hours over and over again for 7 years now. Everyday tasks become mundane. Your daughter drops an apple, you catch it perfectly, as if you’ve done it thousands of times. Everything is normal except this time when you caught the apple your daughter looks terrified.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The apple begins to fall to the ground, it's perilous engagement with the floor inevitable. Tony Lamanza effortlessly sticks his hand out from his seat and catches the apple, saving it from its cruel fate against the messy floor. Tony never even took an eye away from his laptop while making this miraculous catch. He didn't need to, of course, because this marked his 2,555th day of living the same day over and over again. \n\nHowever, this time, something changed. Tony takes his eyes from his laptop to look at his daughter, Mariana, as he hands her the apple. His blood runs cold as he notices the change. Mariana is looking at him with pure terror in her eyes. \n\n\"Daddy? What's wrong with you?\" Tony stared at his daughter, stunned at this turn of events. His days had been the same for years with not a thing ever changing. Sure, he could make different choices and play around with the day a bit, but it ultimately reverted back to the same day. \n\nOne day he decided to do nothing but drink the entire day. He did this for a few weeks straight, distraught at his predicament. With each day being renewed, he never woke up with a hangover.\n\nOn another day, he decided to see what the deal was with the hard drugs that he's seen countless people in his city succumb to. Although, it did take him several iterations of the day to find a dealer who didn't think he was a cop. \n\nHe had many days of trying anything he possibly could within 24 hours and starting from his bedroom. Over time, Tony grew bored with even that. He finally accepted his fate and let the day run it's usual course. His only entertainment each day involved looking up various topics online and simply learning. \n\nHis daughter's words echoed in his mind. He hesitantly responded, \"Sweetie? What do you mean?\"\n\nTears began to fall down Mariana's face as she looked at him. \"Daddy, are you a monster?\" \n\nTony's heart dropped at the words. Why would his precious angel ask if he's a monster? He didn't know how to respond to that. In a fit of anxiety and confusion, he decided to bring himself back down to earth by taking a bite from the apple he just caught. Tony bit down on the apple and immediately winced in pain. \n\nTony did not experience the crisp feeling of his teeth splitting the apple into a delicious chunk in his mouth. No, what Tony experienced was the pitiful attempts of raw gums biting against the apple with no luck. He reflexevly put his hand to his mouth. With horror, he found that he had no teeth left in his mouth. He ran his fingers across sore, bloody, and swollen gums that had no business being near an apple. \n\nHe looked down at Mariana, who was frozen in fear and could not look away from her father. Tony ran into the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror. He then understood why his daughter thought he was a monster. \n\nSomehow, in the course of catching that apple for the 2555th time, his face completely changed. Aside from his lack of dental appendages, his neatly-trimmed beard had turned into a bushy messy of gnatted hair with sparklings of grays crisscrossing the once black lawn. His eyes were bloodshot and heavy. Thick bags sagged below them and dry crust surrounded his orbits. Tiny scars marched across his face, making it look like a dry desert that hadn't seen rain in years. \n\nIt was the scars that made Tony realize what he was looking at. \n\nDuring one of his bouts of recklessness, he found himself wanting to learn how to fight. Tony spent a few months on this quest. He would go to a bar or gym and pick a fight and continue this each day until he started winning the fights. He had security in the fact that each day would be renewed, so he didn't care who he pissed off or how bad he got hurt. \n\nEarly in his combat training, he was at a bar to pick a fight. His usual routine was to order a beer and pour its golden contents onto another patron. He did so, and this particular patron responded by pulling out a knife and slicing open his cheek. Tony spent the evening of that day admiring the gash on his cheek, feeling almost sad that it would be gone the next day. \n\nWell, of the scars he was looking at, one of them was very familiar. The long, straight line; running directly from his earlobe, across his check to the edge of his nose--this was the scar he got that night. A couple of gears clicked in his head and he understood what he was looking at.\n\nHe was looking at the cumulative effects of the last 2555 days on his body. The consequences of every choice he had made were now displayed visible on his body. Mariana asked if he was a monster because, in her eyes, her dad suddenly went from a young, fit 36 year old to a scarred and broken 44 year old man who had seen it all. \n\nTony gazed at his reflection in the mirror as Mariana cried in the other room and started screaming for her mother. He somehow knew then that the cycle was finally broken. He would go to sleep tonight and wake up *tomorrow.* \n\n \nThe monster would break free. ", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You wake up from a coma after 7 years and notice that everyone has shaved off their eyebrows, including your own. Everyone you meet ignores your questions of why, until one day you find your 9 year old nieces diary.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"So what happened to Trump?\" Yvette's unending curiosity finally seemed to bother her nurse. His cheerful demeanor almost immediately soured, which was easy to read when his brow was bare as a baby's buttocks.\n\nHe shifted uncomfortably back and forth as he replied, \"He's, uh, gone now...\" He trailed off with a tone that expressed equal parts nervousness and fear. It was the same tone everyone had when Yvette asked about the eyebrows. The fact that everyone shaved off their eyebrows was easily the most bizarre change that had occurred in the 7 years she had been in a coma. Even her own eyebrows were not spared: shaved on her behalf by some good Samaritan. She could only guess it was to avoid having her fall behind in the fashion trends;  heaven forbid a gal in a coma not look her chicest.\n\n\"How's my sleepyhead sister doing?\" Rhonda's bubbly voice broke the tense mood as she barged into Yvette's hospital room carrying a grocery bag.\n\n\"That joke was old before you even said it the first time,\" Yvette said as she rolled her eyes.\n\nRhonda giggled as she pulled out a paper cup and a spoon. \"Well, I got you strawberry so you better appreciate my old-ass jokes,\" she said as she handed the cup of ice cream to her sister.\n\nYvette couldn't help but smile. She eagerly finished the ice cream as Rhonda finished discussing the details of today's discharge with the staff. Yvette couldn't help but worry as she thought of how she would acclimate to her new life. Her fiance was gone, though she didn't know the details, as well as her mother. She was devastated when she found out about her passing, but everyone else had already moved on. She just felt left behind.\n\nYvette tried to suppress her worries as the nurse pulled in with the wheelchair. Rhonda left to pull up with her car, and the nurse wheeled Yvette out into the world again.\n\n​\n\n​\n\n​\n\nYvette beamed as she walked into Rhonda's house and saw Jenny running toward her, arms outstretched, yelling, \"Aunt Yvie! Aunt Yvie!\"\n\n\"Hey kiddo!\" Yvette replied as she embraced her niece, \"You're so much bigger now! When I last saw you, you were smaller than your teddy bear!\" As she stroked Jenny's face, she noted that even she was sporting a naked brow. Yvette couldn't resist asking, \"You too? Where did everyone's eyebrows go? Haha!\" \n\nYvette tried to play it lightly, but Jenny's eyes immediately widened as she looked back and forth between her mother and aunt. \"Mommy? I thought-\"\n\n\"Go get Aunt Yvie's bed ready, sweety. She'll probably be pretty tired her first day home,\" interjected Rhonda as she hastened her daughter away. Yvette couldn't help but feel like everyone was playing some big joke on her. What was the big deal with the eyebrows? Rhonda dodged the question everyone time she was asked, the hospital staff would just change the subject to her medical issues, and no matter what channel she switched the TV to, none of the eyebrow-less hosts ever made mention of it. The eyebrows weren't even drawn on. One way or another, Yvette sought to find out what was going on.\n\n​\n\n​\n\n​\n\n\"Dinner's ready! Come on down,\" Rhonda beckoned as she popped her head into the bedroom Yvette would be sharing with her niece. Jenny ran out excitedly, but Yvette remained in her hastily assembled bed. \n\n\"I'm feeling a bit fatigued, so I'm gonna take a rest,\" said Yvette. Rhonda nodded and left to join her daughter at dinner. Once she could hear them talking, Yvette rose from the bed and made for Jenny's. She knew it was under the bed; she had seen Jenny put it there. Lo and behold, she finally grasped it and pulled out the notebook. Yvette felt a little guilty peeping into a nine-year-old's diary, but the burning curiosity had to be sated. \n\nYvette worked backwards from the most recent pages, hoping for some light to be shed on the modern face trend that seemed so strange. Mostly she just read about her niece's daily life: the boys she thought were gross, the teachers she liked, her favorite celebrities. One page caught Yvette's eye as she flipped through the pages, though.\n\n*Mommy put all the bad stuff in the basement, and said we can't ever talk about it again. She said the other kids will know not to also.*\n\nBelow the inscription sat a doodle of what looked like a trunk or lock box. Yvette turned the page, and, to her dismay, found that all the text had been scribbled out. The same was true of the page after that, and so on and so forth for several months. There were pictures here and there, though. Most were inscrutable, but some held interest. Yvette noted what looked like Jenny's self-portrait and a razor, as well as drawings of her mom looking unhappy. On one page turn, Yvette's heart skipped a beat. It looked like Ian, Rhonda's husband who had passed, and for whatever reason, his eyebrows were red.\n\nYvette wished desperately she could have time to decipher the crossed out text, but she could hear Jenny running up the stairs and had to quickly avoid having her snooping discovered. Yvette did make one mental reminder though: *I need to check the basement.*\n\n​\n\n​\n\n​\n\n\"Bye, have a good day,\" Yvette said to Jenny as she left to board the school bus. With that, she had the house all to herself. Finally, she could take a look in the basement and hopefully understand the cause of the shaved eyebrows. \n\nFluorescent bulbs graciously lit the basement as Yvette descended the stairs. Still atrophied, her legs ached with each step. She had to persevere, though, or she feared she might go mad from her desire to know the truth. She heaved a sigh of relief as, at last, she reached the floor. She caught her breath as she scanned the basement floor for the box her niece had logged in the diary. She found nothing of the sort, though, and was about to give up when she noticed a square segment of the wall that had a color slightly mismatched with the rest. As she approached, her excitement began to swell as she realized she could pull out the segment. It was, indeed, the box from the diary. It had been inconspicuously embedded within a crevice in the wall. Guesses raced through Yvette's mind as to what might lie within the box as she gently opened it.\n\nWithin the box was a polaroid with scratched out below. It took Yvette a few moments to process what she was looking at. It was a person, lying down with a bloodied face. After a second, she realized it was Ian, and the blood was dried and seemed to come from his eyebrows, which were darker than usual. \n\nAs she pulled the picture closer, Yvette's heart sank as she realized that Ian wasn't bleeding from his eyebrows. Ian *had no eyebrows*. Where his eyebrows should be, there were only two holes. Holes that seemed to pierce deep within his skull, maybe all the way through it. The holes were perfectly shaped with no jagged edges or torn skin, as if bored with surgical precision. Yvette looked closer still and gasped. She could barely see it, but within the holes, almost imperceptible, she was certain she could see something staring out directly into the lens. \n\nYvette felt deeply uncomfortable the longer she stared into the holes, and instead shifted her gaze to the scratched out word at the bottom. She squinted and read aloud as she made it out, \"Maygway...?\"\n\nSuddenly, Yvette felt like her chest had frozen over. Every muscle fiber in her body tensed as she felt a presence behind her. Although she desperately fought the urge, her body, as if of its own accord, slowly turned around. What she saw could only be described as pure malice. A black, vaguely humanoid figure stared back, with eyes that were a hot red and skin that constantly slithered about itself, as if comprised of interwoven tubes. Yvette couldn't scream, nor could she move; she could only be still as the figure slowly inched forward. Its eyes were transfixed on her brow, it made a motion that she could only think of as sniffing near her eyebrows. The figure recoiled and quickly backed away, and every muscle in Yvette's body loosened all at once as she collapsed to the floor. By the time she had the composure to look up again, there was nothing. \n\nYvette didn't ask Rhonda about the photo in the basement. She didn't ask about the entity. She never asked about Ian, and from that day forward, she diligently shaved her eyebrows every morning.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Everyone receives a Skill or Talent on their 16th birthday. Yours is Dragon Tamer. But dragons don't exist.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"A dragon tattoo?\" John asked, looking at the tattoo of a European style dragon looking up and breathing fire that had appeared on his shoulder.\n\nJohn's father, Mark, looked at the tattoo and shrugged, \"Maybe it has something to do with breathing fire?\"\n\nJohn couldn't figure out how that would even work, how would he make fire? Was he supposed to breathe a certain way or would his next dedicated breath cause fire?\n\n\"Stay back Dad.\" John said, pushing his father back. Luckily his father got the message and moved back with John's push, the man's talent made him too hard to move unless he wanted to be moved\n\nJohn inhaled deeply and violently exhaled, nothing.\n\nAfter five tries on John's part, Mark put an a stony hand on his son's shoulder in a comforting manner, \"Maybe that's not the best tact kiddo.\"\n\nSuddenly John's little brother, Andrew spoke up jokingly from where he was sitting on the sofa, \"Maybe he's a dragon tamer.\"\n\nJohn snarked back at Andrew, \"Dragons don't even exist ya dweeb.\"\n\n\"Komodo Dragons do.\" Mark replied swiftly.\n\nJohn sighed in frustration, he could not believe something that seemed so cool, breathing fire, may have just turned into lizard taming. But what his Dad was proposing was better than nothing, \"Okay Dad, I guess we'll go to the pet store.\"\n\n~\n\n15 minutes later John found himself staring at a lazing Komodo Dragon in a glass tank, a chipper woman who couldn't have been five years older than him talking to his father behind him.\n\nMentally John tried to reach out to the Dragon and get it to move slightly, hoping that it would react. To John's shock the lizard did move as he commanded, slowly shuffling to where he commanded.\n\nJohn commanded it to climb the nearby branch in the center of it's enclosure and watched as it did so.\n\n\"Dad, hate to say it but Andrew was right.\" John said, grabbing the attention of his father and the store clerk who had been helping them.\n\nThe clerk looked at the lizard who had climbed up the branch and back to John, \"Would you like to take it home?\" she said in a chipper tone.\n\n\"Sure, I guess, what do you say Dad?\" John asked\n\nMark scratched the back of his head, \"Normally I'd have to clear it with your Mom but it is your birthday and your ability. So what the hell, why not?\"\n\n~\n\nAfter a long evening of explaining why they bought a lizard to his Mom and dealing with Andrew's gloating, John finally walked into his room and felt like collapsing into his bed.\n\nQuestions swirled in his mind, how would John make lizard taming seem impressive to his friends? David could make ice appear from thin air and Fred could change his skin color at will. By comparison John was the least impressive of the three.\n\nAs he mulled it over John could hear a deep and wizened voice, \"Finally, some alone time.\"\n\nJohn suddenly became alert and looked around to see who said that when the voice spoke again, \"Relax, I'm the Komodo Dragon you bought home.\"\n\nJohn quickly ran to the lizard tank that had been haphazardly setup on his dresser, \"You can talk?\"\n\n\"Only to you it seems, but I have been waiting for so long though that I'll take it.\" the Dragon replied, having assumed the same position on the branch when John had bought him.\n\nJohn was confused, \"Waiting, waiting for what?\"\n\n\"The first dragon tamer in one thousand years that's what.\" the lizard said matter of factly, like John was an idiot for asking.\n\n\"You've been waiting a thousand years for a guy who can talk to Komodo Dragons? You been that lonely?\" John said with a raised eyebrow.\n\n\"No you simpleton, I've been waiting for someone who can lead Dragons into the glory we once had a thousand years ago, when we were massive and commanded the skies.\" the lizard explain in frustration.\n\n\"Like the kind of Dragons who sleep on gold piles and kidnap maidens?\" John replied\n\n\"Baseless propaganda, we saved those maidens and liberated that gold from corrupt nobles.\" the Komodo Dragon roared, more offended at the stories than the fact that John didn't believe Dragons existed\n\n\"I thought those were myths.\" John said\n\n\"In every myth there is a kernel of truth.\" the Dragon replied, \"Some kernels are bigger than others.\"\n\n\"Okay, let's say I believe Dragons exist and that they need me, what now?\" John asked.\n\n\"Now we must go to Norway.\" the Komodo Dragon replied, \"We must awaken the Dragon King.\"", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You were summoned to another world to save them from the demon lord. Unfortunately, you don't have special powers nor did you receive any. Fortunately, everything in this world is so weak even a human infant crawling about would be the equivalent of the apocalypse for them.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "A blue sky and a green field as far as the eye could see appeared before you out of nowhere as you dropped down from a meter above the ground.\n\nThe last thing you remembered was the way home from school. However, halfway home everything disappeared in front of you. The world around you went dark and you found yourself standing before three angelic creatures that immediately launched into a lengthy speech; you were being summoned to another world to save it from the Demon Lord who was prophesied to claim it as his own.\n\nUpon questioning this very generic quest, the only thing you really understood was that the novice summoner that was casting the spell had made a crucial mistake; instead of getting the fluffy companion she wanted, she’d be getting you.\n\nAnd that was it before the spell finished and you were thrown into another world.\n\nStanding up, it took you a while to get your bearings. You could have sworn you watched yourself land on a plain grass field, but now that your mind had caught up with your body, you found yourself in the middle of a sizable mud crater. Clawing your way out of the crater proved to be a challenge because all that hard earth gave way to your hands like butter to a hot knife.\n\nHowever, after conquering the crater, you spotted a woman in an outfit that appeared to be the marriage between blue, frilly cloth and boiled leather. She let out a yelp at the sight of you and ran off towards a nearby town you hadn’t spotted while falling. She dropped her staff in her fit of panic as well. Although your feet seemingly sank a bit into the earth with every step, you made the choice to follow her at your own pace with her staff in one hand.\n\nBy the time you reached the town, the little summoner had already disappeared between the many stalls, shops, and the people frequenting them. Although more and more people began to throw you fearful looks as you made your way through the town, you figured it was because of your clothes and the staff in your hand; some random human in foreign clothes wielding a magical staff was marching through their town. Anyone would raise their eyebrows at that.\n\nThe ground beneath you had changed from grass to stonework, but your feet still sank into it all the same with every step. A pretty noisy construction site must have been nearby from the constant rumblings.\n\nInevitably you had to give up the notion of finding her on your own. Instead you turned to a couple nearby who had been sizing you up like everyone else. They froze when your eyes met, however they quickly pointed the way when you inquired where the girl you described had fled to. Their silent navigation led your way to a tavern across the street; The Errant Dog. You pushed your way through the door.\n\nLiterally.\n\nThe door flew off its hinges at your slightest touch and crashed violently into the patrons sitting nearby. The music, singing, and laughter all stopped at once. Everyone inside stared silently at you. After apologizing for what just happened, you cleared your throat and asked for the girl you were seeking.\n\nIt took people less than a few seconds to offer you the little summoner on her knees in front of you. She was scarcely able to meet your eyes at first, but eventually she summoned the courage to do so.\n\n“Here’s your staff. Get off the floor and let’s go. You got a lot of explaining to do.” You threw her the staff and started to leave the tavern. You sent an apologetic look for the broken door towards the fat and disgruntled man in the back who you assumed to be the tavern owner.\n\n“W-what do you mean?” She stuttered, eyes wide and almost tearing up as she caught her staff.\n\n“You’re the one who summoned me, right? I’m here to stop the demon lord. Now c'mon.”\n\n“Oh no.” She whined meekly.\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\nPart 2: [Here](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/i9q4mc/wp_you_were_summoned_to_another_world_to_save/g1ldhed?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x)", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You wished that time would stop, and it did, for you and your partner. You spent your lives together, and died happy. Generations on, the world is still frozen, but your descendants aren't.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "It was just a silly wish I made as lay on the bed of the truck in the middle of the cornfield staring up at the stars. \"See that shooting star?\" I asked, pointing. It was flawless; just like I wanted the rest of my life to be, minus a mosquito or two. She laughed and rolled her eyes and kissed me, her ponytail brushing against my face. \n\nThe sun didn't rise the next morning. Lost in each other's company, the idyll of a perfect partner unperturbed by something as insignificant as a timeless void, it wasn't until that evening that we made our way to town. I expected more people milling about, staring up at the stars and wondering where our own little star had gone and if it would ever return. Twenty-four hours without sunlight was abnormal, to say the least. Everybody was frozen in place. \n\n\"What the hell happened?\" she asked me as we walked hand in hand. It was eerie, the way their eyes didn't blink and they seemed to stare right through us. It was like a little mannequin town. \n\n\"I wished for time to stop...\" I started to say. I let my voice taper off. That was ridiculous. Plus, my watch was still ticking and our hearts were still beating and here we were walking. \n\n\"Don't joke like that,\" she whispered back. I think we both knew then that I wasn't joking. \n\nTime passed. Things never really returned to normal. It was still just us, roaming the world. We raised a family, our kids aging in a world that didn't age. She aged with them. Her hair turned white and her face grew wrinkled and I held her hand as she smiled at me one last time. I kissed her goodnight and I hoped she would wake up to a beautiful sunrise, finally escaping this eternal night.\n\nThe kids cried. They had grown up around death - it was all they had ever known, with the way those ghastly bodies stood there with those empty stares and grotesque grins. It was different when it hit so close to home. \"Could it be love?\" I remember she had asked me as she lay in a stranger's bedroom having given birth so many years ago. The baby had come out screaming, like a baby should. I hadn't expected that. I expected a stillborn child, one more motionless person added to this motionless world. \n\nEventually they died, too. Everybody died. I buried them in the garden beside her. Time went on so I became accustomed to my loneliness. Then I went insane, so I became accustomed to my insanity. I memorized it all; the people and the places and the way they were frozen in the middle of what they had been doing that evening so many years ago. Each day I discovered new details, each day a new day. Each day they remained frozen, each day the same as the last. \n\nThen one day I saw her again as I ripped through an empty, unkempt field. She was laying in the bed of a truck, staring up at the stars, hair sprawled out in that ponytail. Her smile made me smile and she never stopped smiling. She was as frozen as the rest. \n\nI talked with her, or in my head I did, at least, repeating conversations I thought I would never have again. \"I love you,\" I whispered. And then I saw a shooting star and I made another wish and in the east I saw the sun peak up over the horizon.\n\n*****\n\nThanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out more stories at /r/MatiWrites. Constructive criticism and advice are always appreciated!", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " \"The best way to keep a prisoner from escaping is to make sure he never knows he’s in prison.\"", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "We start with a tempting job offer.\nThe job has a salary that is far above average for the prisoner's field. Most accept. If they don't, we raise the offer.\nThe prisoner is then flown to a small town in Alaska. This town is accessible only by planes.\n\nThe prisoner is allowed to work from home most days. \nAn employee approaches them, pretending to be from the local bank, and offers to sell them a house with a no interest loan. There's a small, unimportant clause stating: If you move out, the loan must immediately be payed in full. If they notice, our employee reassures them that the clause doesn't prohibit them from selling the house if they need to repay the loan. If they don't accept, we try again with a nicer house in a better location.\n\nIn our local stores, everything is overpriced, but each store has a low interest credit card that gives you a small discount on every service. These stores don't accept other credit cards and it's difficult to pay in cash.\n\nThe stores often forget to send out monthly statements. Each credit card's balance is due a different day of the month. \n\nA month in, we begin raising the price of electricity, heating, water and internet. The utility companies let you pay your fee at a later date and their interest rate is low.\n\nEventually the prisoner is demoted for subpar work and their salary is cut. Their supervisor assures them that this is only temporary, just until they prove themselves. \n\nOne day, the prisoner will be unexpectedly fired. A local business will hire them for a minimum wage job.\n\nAt this point, the prisoner will want to leave.\nHowever, the only way into, or out, of this town is by plane. \nThe airport is owned by the bank. The bank, it turns out, also manages all of the local credit cards.\nThe bank isn't willing to sell you a plane ticket until you pay your debt in full.\n\nThe prisoner will never pay their debt. ", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Dreams are nonsense. They are nothing more than chaotic recycling of memories as your synapses randomly fire. There are no messages to be heard, no insights to be found, no monsters to be faught. Dreams have no meaning. At least, that's what everybody else thinks. You know better.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "We are all radios set to the wrong frequency. That's why we shout at each other without really hearing one another, why the fantastical things we see at night are nonsensical.\n\n\"Beware the visions of the night.\" That was something my Grandma used to say before she passed away. \"Because sometimes they stare back.\"\n\nSometimes there are a gifted few set to the right frequency.\n\nIt was a dreary day in June and the air was as thick as molasses. Jon and I walked through the aftermath of a forest fire, looking around at the burnt husks and collapsed landscape.\n\n\"So,\" he said, \"You're telling me that dreams are real. And your dreams can tell you the future.\"\n\nI shook my head, kicking black soot and rotten fungus. \"I'm saying that all dreams are real, even yours. Somewhere, past or present or future. Someplace, this dimension, or another, or yet another. Mine just happen to always tell a tale in this reality or a parallel one, whereas yours could be someplace humanity may never reach.\"\n\nJon's laugh bounced around the graveyard of arbor. \"Come on, Julie! That's ridiculous.\"\n\n\"Maybe,\" I said, \"But I do know that your Mom passed away last year and you never told anyone. I know she died of pancreatic cancer. I know that even though we've been childhood friends since the crib, you never trusted me enough for that knowledge.\"\n\nHe shoved me against the trunk of a tree that used to be, dying embers roaring back to life in his eyes. \"You're full of shit, Julie. Did Mom tell you?\"\n\n\"I know you,\" I said past the hairy arm. \"I know you're scared. I know that when you were in third grade you tripped and fell off your skateboard and almost got hit by a truck, and that you've never told anyone. But that's where your tenacity to live comes from; the knowledge that at any moment, everything in front of you might be snatched away.\"\n\nJon's grip tightened, but I could see hesitation there, a fine mist drizzling down on the temper flowing through those bulging veins. The smell of the coming storm, the scent of petrichor, rankled my sinuses. \"What else can you see?\"\n\n\"One time I dreamt that you keep a diary lamenting about the failings of the world. Even though you're going to college next year, that book will become famous someday.\" *It will be a visionary article, able to rival Mein Kampf as a household name.*\n\n\"No way,\" he said, jaw dropping along with his hold on me. \"You're telling the truth. No one knows about that diary. You really are a seer, an...an oracle. And you've seen the future? You know what happens?\"\n\nI looked up at the scarred, bleak branches, those fragile emaciated limbs that I could climb and climb and maybe reach the top. But I knew I'd fall. \"Yes. You and I get married. Your diary becomes famous, and you will become very powerful someday.\"\n\nJon's breath comes out fast, like it's cold in the middle of June. He hugs me this time and I hug him back, reaching around to the nape of his neck. \"That's incredible! I've always...sort of liked you, Julie. I never knew...\"\n\n\"I love you, Jon.\" That was true. I knew the man he'd become, the trials we'd overcome. I'd seen in all in the crux of morning, where the whispers and vagaries of dreams floated before my eyes.\n\nThen I slit his throat with the knife pulled from my pocket. The dying light in his eyes, the confusion and resentment, carried part of me with it into the void.\n\nI'd dreamed the world to come, of the dictator he'd become, of the millions of lives he would burn as ruthlessly as the fire that ravaged the earth on which I now sat and cried my heart out. I'd tried, in parallel universes, a million different ways to pull him back, to climb those thin branches and reach a world where we could stand at the top of these trees and enjoy the sunset.\n\nBlood dripped across my scalp. I hugged him close anyways, crying at the injustice of it all, but I knew that every vision that came at night would come true unless I did something drastic to change it.\n\nAs the light faded, I pushed away the dirt to reveal the newly sprouting saplings hidden just under the surface. *Better to burn just this forest than to burn the whole world.* The forest would recover, new seeds springing up to take the place of the remains as Jon's corpse cooled to match the dead trees around us.\n\nThat night, I slept without dreaming, the visions satiated at last.\n\n---\n\nThanks for reading! Feedback would be awesome\\~ Come hang out with me at [/r/Remyxed](https://www.reddit.com/r/Remyxed/), we'd love to see you around :)", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Everyone thinks you're one of the most powerful psychic, capable of shrugging off all manners of psionic spells, while being a pacifist unwilling to use said power to fight back, but in truth you're just too stupid to be affected by psi-energy.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "“It’s just not fair!” Mary complained in a huff. Personally I just felt perplexed as my eyes followed a boy who was walking across the school courtyard. Mary continued. “Not only are his parents stinking rich, but he’s also born with the strongest psychic powers in the whole school! Possibly the whole country… Ahhg it just infuriates me!”\n\n“It’s only the first day of school, you shouldn’t be so angry already. Besides, at least he’s not a showoff,” I considered as I leaned back against the bench we sat on.\n\n“No. He’s worse than a showoff. He thinks he’s too good to *bother* showing off,” Mary spat. Then she spoke under her breath. “And of course he’s a looker to boot.” She crossed her arms.\n\n“For someone who’s never even spoken to him you sure have a lot of strong feelings,” I observed.\n\n“Who doesn’t?”\n\nI shrugged. “Me, I guess. I don’t really see what all the fuss is about. It’s not like his existence is going to keep you from studying hard or practicing. Honestly I find it kind of nice to know someone so strong is going to be defending us once he graduates.”\n\nMary grabbed a lock of my long black hair and yanked on it. “Stop it Rai. He already has a fan club. He doesn't need you fawning over him, too,” Mary sighed. Then her mouth twisted, like she was considering whether she should speak her next thought or not. “… You’re right that he doesn’t keep us from practicing, but he does keep us from winning titles at the games. Didn’t he beat you in the finals last year?”\n\nI frowned. Orrin had been my opponent in the last round of the freshman tournament, and he hadn’t even tried. The match ended when, after I’d exhausted myself barraging his mind with all sorts of attacks, I’d forfeited. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t still feel a twinge of that humiliation, but I simply used that as motivation. I would get stronger, better, and I would at least give him a run for his money this year. My eyes found him again, watching him for a few moments before he disappeared into the school, leaving the courtyard.\n\n“First off, I don't have time to be thinking about boys romantically, so banish that thought immediately. Secondly, having him around is actually a lucky thing,” I said. Mary looked at me with a raised eyebrow, waiting for me to elaborate. “… To have a skilled rival, I mean. I never would have trained so hard over the summer if it wasn’t for him.”\n\n“He can’t be your rival if you’re not even on comparable levels. I doubt he thinks of you as anything more than another single step in his ascent. Face it, we’re just in different worlds. Orrin probably shouldn’t even be going to this school.\" Mary sighed deeply. \"Lucky you say? No. It’s unfortunate that we’re doomed to always be in his shadow, just like everyone else at this academy.”\n\nI stood. Mary was right, and even though I did my best to ignore the truth, I couldn’t fool myself when it was put out there so blatantly. It pissed me off. “I’ll see you after class,” I offered as a farewell.\n\n“Yeah yeah. Let’s do our math homework together again. I’m still have trouble wrapping my head around this unit,” Mary suggested. I nodded and then let my legs carry me away. There was still plenty of time left during our free period, and I was thankful Mary hadn’t protested my departure; I guess she realized what a bad mood she’d put me in.\n\nI didn’t have any desired destination in mind as I walked, but I went at a brisk pace as if I was late for something, and it wasn’t until I had almost caught up to him that I realized I was following Orrin.\n\nNot following. Just a coincidence.\n\nI picked up my pace and walked passed him, continuing on down the hallway.\n\nNot a coincidence. I turned and faced him, stepping into his path. The boy came to a stop and raised his eyes from the floor to acknowledge me, making eye contact and then just holding his expressionless gaze. I took a breath. “… Hey. Haven’t seen you since school let out,” I started. I paused, waiting for him to greet me in some kind of similar way, but an awkward silence lingered. “… Uhm. I trained really hard over the summer, so let’s fight in the finals again this year.” I grinned. Even if Orrin had beat me, it still meant I had finished as the second best in my grade. There was no way he wouldn’t acknowledge me as his rival.\n\nOrrin reached up with his hand and scratched his head, his fingers scattering his messy blonde hair. “… Who are you?” he asked genuinely.\n\nMy breath caught in my throat, and the image of us as rivals shattered in my mind as if it was made of glass. He didn’t even remember me. “We fought in the finals last year! How do you not know who I am?” I demanded, my voice raising aggressively.\n\nOrrin took a step back, and fear and confusion crossed his face for a brief moment. He recovered quickly though, lifting a closed fist to his mouth and clearing his throat. Then he raised his chin and looked at me down his nose. “What makes you think I would bother wasting my precious attention on memorizing the name of a weakling?”\n\n“Weakling?” I couldn’t help but ask out loud. My legs wobbled as if his words had sucked all of the strength out of them.\n\n“Hm,” he scoffed. “I remember now. You couldn’t do anything, just like everyone else. Let me give you some advice. Don’t bother entering the competition this year. I’ll be winning again.” Then he made a spectacle of stepping around me, and continued on his way. That’s when I noticed that the other students in the hallway had stopped to watch the exchange between me and Orrin. They all seemed just as shocked as I was, and even as the conversation was over, they just stared.\n\nAnger. Embarrassment. Frustration. These feelings gripped me like a vice, and I couldn’t help it as my thoughts began to spill. Every muscle in my body clenched and my teeth grit together. My walls cracked, and the heaviness I felt spread from me through the hallway like a haze. I could feel what I was doing but I couldn't stop it, I couldn't bare it all on my own. A student to my right, across the hall from me, dropped to his knees. Then another fell, her books spilling to the floor. Then the rest collapsed. As the weight I felt impacted the others around me in a literal sense, driving them to the ground, I looked over my shoulder at Orrin.\n\nEven as his classmates laid sprawled around him, the rich, prodigy, pretty boy continued away as though he hadn’t a care in the world, and the burning in my chest only got worse. Tears gathered at the corners of my eyes. “Rai! Ack- Please stop!” I heard someone beg, and I turned to see the first boy that had fallen clutching at his chest.\n\nSuddenly, I realized what I was doing. Frantically I reeled in my emotions and reset my walls, blocking everyone off from my influence, and a collective sigh sounded around the hallway. “Sorry! I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to!” I gasped as I wiped my tears away. I knelt to help the girl who’d dropped her books, though it was more of a way to keep my eyes focused on something other than the recovering kids around me.\n\n“Hey,” someone addressed me as a hand rested on my shoulder. I looked up to the girl whose books I was collecting, and her eyes greeted me with sympathy. I think her name was Nara. “It’s okay. That kid’s a dick.” She smiled weakly, still worn from the psychological and physical pressure I’d forced upon her. My eyes shifted to look away, and I noticed that the rest of the students had returned to milling about. Accidents like that weren’t particularly common, but neither were they unheard of; everyone lost their cool and *spilled* at least once or twice. “You’re really strong,” Nara continued. “You’d have beaten anyone else at the tournament last year, I’m sure of it. You can’t only compare yourself to the strongest person.”\n\nI nodded, and then we stood. I offered her the books back and she took them, tucking them safely under her arm. “Thanks. That means a lot… and, sorry again.”\n\n“Don’t sweat it. What class do you have next?”\n\n“Practical Applications of Psychokinesis with Professor Gafnor,” I informed her.\n\nNara smiled. “No way! Me too! Let’s walk together. Maybe some of your power will rub off on me.”\n\nA grin tugged across my face. “Sure. Nara, right?” I asked.\n\n“Mhm. Come on now, we can’t be late on the first day,” she declared, and with that, we were off.\n\nr/TheCornerStories\n\nEDIT: making minor corrections as I find them. Will work on a follow up part later!", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Michael and Lucifer meet for their final battle to decide the fate of the Earth. As they are about to commence, a confused and lost Mr. Bean accidentally stumbles into their battleground.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "I gazed out over the dull sea and remembered what a fantastic display of beauty it had been the night before. Reduced to a colorless shell of its former self, it now had the same charisma of an old washed up actress.\n\nSuddenly I had an eerie sensation of something approaching rapidly – something on a collision course with my mind. I rose to my feet.\n\nWith the crack of thunder, a figure appeared next to the only tree within miles. It was a dead oak with gnarly old branches, twisted and dark, that ended in leafless twigs – like sharp claws ready to scratch anyone within reach. But the old tree didn’t dare to touch this man and, seemingly terrified, it pulled back its long splintered arms.\n\nIt was as if the sun itself eagerly had split the gray clouds just to catch a glimpse of the man, and now shone down with its dazzling golden rays where he stood. But even in all its bright glory, the sun itself couldn’t match the splendor of the man in his glittering platinum suit of armor. The plates were polished spotless mirrors, radiantly reflecting the surrounding scenery and his blonde hair, which was like a sparkling golden crown on the top of his head. \n\nAn iridescent white mantle hung from his wide shoulders and flowed softly like wings of mercury behind him. His face was strong and noble, with high yet broad cheekbones. The pale indigo irises of his eyes shone with righteous purpose. It was a face as firm and unyielding as the Pearly Gates to a sinner.\n\nHe strode straight towards me, every step dripping with arrogance and gallantry. The sunlight keenly followed him, like a personal spotlight. I knew he liked dramatic entries, but this was abundant even for Michael, it was as if he was on a mission.\n\n“Is it my birthday today, or what’s with all the attention?” I said, pretending to check my calendar. \n\n“This time you have gone too far, brother,” he said with a hollow voice, drawing his sword. \n\nIt gleamed like a solid sunbeam in his hand and seemed to flicker with energy and sheer devastating power. \n\n“Let’s not get uncivil, shall we?” I said, holding out my hands in a gesture of peace. \n\nI knew Michael wasn’t the kind of guy to back down from a fight, and there was only so much my smooth words and charm could do once he started swinging. \n\n“In the holy name of the Lord, I command thee, kneel before Him or be forever cast aside,” he bellowed. His words were like thunder that shook the ground. \n\n“I think I’m going to pass on that one...” I told him. “…and you should as well… brother.”\n\n“Ungrateful snake!” he howled and swung his shining blade in a wide arc at me. \n\nI sidestepped with surprising ease; he obviously wasn’t trying yet. The sweep left a trailing smell of burning ozone in the air where it had split the very atoms. He struck again, this time with full strength and the blade came down from above like a lightning bolt. \nI managed to get out of its disintegrating way once more, but only barely this time and its edge grazed my very essence. \n\nIt hit the dry earth with the sound of a nuclear warhead going off, and split the ground where we stood into a chasm so deep that I thought the world would collapse inwards.\n\nThat’s when a tiny creature crawled out from behind the dead oak. It rubbed its eyes and yawned, as if it had just woken up from a deep slumber. Frowning, it looked left and right, obviously confused about where it was. Then it shrugged and casually brushed the dust from the shoulders of its cheap suit. It adjusted the flower that had partially fallen out of its chest pocket and smiled contently, wagging its head back and forth.\n\nBoth Michael and I froze and watched in wonder. All humans were supposed to have died already, but this little bugger seemed to have survived. It puffed up its cheeks happily and pulled out a comb and a crumpled Valentine’s Day card. \n\nIt ran the comb through its brown hair once, then nodded to itself proudly and put the comb back where he found it, leaving his hair the same as it was before.\n\nIt checked its watch and was just about to leave, to God knows where, when it noticed us. Its eyes went wide, almost popping out of its skull. It waved at us, trying to act casual. It then pointed to the sky and gave us the thumbs up. It then turned around and hurried away across the desolate plains.\n\nMichael and I looked at each other. He tried his best to keep his face straight. He snorted, and a smile cracked open his stony features. \n\n“I had forgotten how funny those critters are,” he said after a while, shaking his head. “This, of course, changes nothing between us.”\n\n“Of course not, brother,” I agreed, smiling.\n\n*****\n[/r/Lilwa_Dexel](https://www.reddit.com/r/Lilwa_Dexel/comments/5foev0/welcome/)", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Translating new alien languages was exciting for you at first, but years later the novelty has worn off and routine has set in. It is Monday and you're on First Contact mission once again.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Alien languages are diverse and idiosyncratic. A well-trained translator is paid a generous salary in addition to benefits.\n\nWorking for the government gave me benefits beyond the norm. I had more access. It was all about the access with alien transcription services. \n\nI was gifted from birth with eidetic memory and verbal skills that tipped the scales when it came to entrance exams. Aced the verbal section of the GRE without suffering a single extra heartbeat.\n\nAliens are tricky to work with. They write and type, but also pick your brains with telepathy. It makes transcription a dizzying two-way street. And it's damned tiring.\n\nOn my final day of work I had decided it was time to call it quits. It was the final day of work because I decided it was.\n\nI woke up and had my breakfast standing in my kitchen like always. Kissed the wife before she left for school. Brushed my teeth and spit. Got in the car and cruised down I-95 to my reserved parking spot at Langley. \n\nToday it was a new species. One we hadn't encountered yet. A bird person, we called them Avians. The feathers were iridescent and seemed to shimmer under the fluorescent lights.\n\nI nodded to it, and it popped an image in my head. A rainbow over a meadow. \n\nI asked the Avian its name. It said Tralva.\n\nThen we went to work. I would point to a word, and Tralva would implant an image in my mind of what the word represented. \n\nThis went on for a few hours, and I was ready to leave already. But I had four more hours until I was to leave forever.\n\nI asked Tralva a pointed question. \"Why are you here?\"\n\nAn image of a question mark popped in my mind.\n\nI shugged. \"Just wondering. Why interact with us at all?\"\n\nTralva sent me an image. It sent chills through me. An image of a fleet of flying saucers, shooting all of our nuclear arsenal, and igniting our country in a raging firestorm.\n\n\"Is this true?\" I asked.\n\nHe sent me an image of a big green check mark.\n\nI was unsure of the next move. How on earth would I convince anybody to believe that Big Bird told me we were about to be under attack?\n\nTralva offered his hand, and we held each other in our grasps. He closed his eyes. I closed mine.\n\nWe transported to a hazy dimension. It was unlike three dimensional reality. A place between the lines.\n\nHe set me up at a console overlooking Earth.\n\nHe expressed to me that Avians could not intervene in Earthly affairs. But he sent me an image of myself shooting these saucers out of the sky using the controls at this console.\n\nA long stretch of time passed, and my Avian friend told me the time had come. On a large screen, I saw a fleet of saucers swooping over North America. \n\nThe Avian had showed me how to control the console. How to shoot objects moving at incredible speeds. I went to work. I aimed and shot down every enemy fighter I saw. \n\nThey appeared as white blips that jinked all over the surface of the land. When I shot them, a bright red light flared, and numbers flashed on the screen. It looked like a cross between braille and Chinese.\n\nWhen the fleet was destroyed, and I was out of breath and on the verge of tears, my Avian friend put his hand on my shoulder. I jumped at his touch.\n\nHe sent me and image of crowds of people surrounding me, putting laurel wreaths around my neck. \n\nHe snapped his clawed fingers and I was back at Langley. The place was in a tizzy. \n\n\"Jake,\" my friend Lizzy said, \"Where on Earth have you been?\"\n\n\"What happened?\" I asked\n\n\"Nothing, just an alien invasion!\"\n\n\"You don't say,\" I said.\n\nI simply packed up my things and left without a word.\n\nI was the savior, the hero of the free world. But more importantly, I quit. The Avians had done their job thoroughly. They had a clandestine method of operation, and I couldn't speak to the morality of what they'd done.\n\nWhen you have a choice of kill or be killed, you have to weigh the outcome. I chose to kill. ", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " In the future, memory backups are commonplace and death is only a minor inconvenience. Your spouse has just died, but their last backup was from before your relationship started. They don't remember you.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Everything was the same.\n\nAnd he wanted, more than anything, to hide.\n\nIt was nearly five years, to the day, since they’d first met – that fateful day in a dingy bookstore cafe when he’d met the woman of his dreams.\n\nBookstores were a dying breed, in the mid-twenty-second century, but every now and then one could find one tucked away in an alleyway somewhere. An archaic reminder of times past, really. In an age where memories could be stored, backed up, and downloaded, few saw the need for proper, physical books. Those who did were seen as archaic and old-fashioned themselves.\n\nSo it was fitting, then, that their romance seemed to have been plucked straight from the pages of an ancient fairy tale. He’d come in every day, at the same time, and ordered a coffee with too much sugar. She always had it ready before he arrived.\n\nThe barista and all-too-clumsy historian bonded over a mutual love of books. No screen nor e-ink nor holofilm, they’d always agreed, could replace paper.\n\nThey’d always agreed on other things, too.\n\nLike how it was perfectly acceptable for him to have five sugars with a coffee, or how only savages would mark a page by dog-earing its corner. \n\nLike how a run through the city at midnight was a good idea. How it wasn’t cheating to unplug someone’s controller as long as you claimed it was an accident. How fruit from a tree tasted better than synthfruit, even if their chemical composition was supposed to be identical.\n\nAnd how incredibly expensive a wedding was.\n\nThe ceremony was small, the decorations homely, and the marriage perfect.\n\nThey grew into a steady daily rhythm. Shower, breakfast – coffee with five sugars, of course – and off to work. Lunch. He’d leave the museum in the mid-afternoon and pick her up from work. At night, they’d binge-watch 21st-century films, or sit in the backyard and stare up at the sky. \n\nAnd then, one day, their fairy tale ended.\n\nIn an age where memories could be stored, backed up, and downloaded, cancer was hardly world-ending. Or life-ending. Death simply meant a minor inconvenience and a week in stasis, while a new body was grown.\n\nBut her last backup had been too ago, the tumor now too large for a new cerebral scan.\n\n“She’ll still be the same person you knew,” the doctor had insisted. “She’s got the same experiences, minus five years or so. You’ll be able to make new memories together.”\n\nIt didn’t seem right. She’d changed in five years. He’d changed. \n\nAnd, apparently, the bookstore hadn’t.\n\n“Excuse me? Sir?” She was waiting, now, notepad in hand. \n\nHe was staring. Hoping, desperately, for any sign of recognition in those familiar eyes. Any sign that she remembered him. \n\n“What’ll you have?”\n\n---\n\n*Like this story? Subscribe to /r/OneMillionWords for more.*", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " \"Boost the funk thrusters to one-twenty kilogroove!\" \"Captain, the ship can't possibly endure that much funk!\"", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"Damn it Johnson, that was an order not a suggestion! You are on board the Syncopater, the funkiest ship in the galaxy! Now Prestissimo! Drop the shields, full power to engines! \n\nThe ship hums as power surges from the shield generator into the already strained engines. The double doors hiss open automatically as Virtuoso Captain Renaldo Jaun Riquez Hernandez de la Vivacevania strides into Sound-Engineering with his custom rosewood dual necked spanish guitar brandished fearsomely in his expert grip, S. Engineer Johnson scuttling behind him.\n\n\"With all due respect Captain, this is insanity! If the engines don't explode then one direct hit from the enemies brass blasters will destroy our whole ship! Theyre firing trumpets now!\"\n\nA flurry of blasts fly past the ship, striking glancing blows. Alarm klaxons begin and soldiers scurry about as airlocks begin to close on board.\n\n\"I know Johnson, i know. But if we don't get these tasty riffs to Metalopolis before the weekend they could lose %70 of their population by Monday. The federation is counting is on us. Is everyone ready?\"\n\n\"Aye captain, were ready... rock on.\"\n\nExtremely rough draft from my phone so sorry about formatting and spelling\n", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " A drunk moves into a Haunted House that is desperately trying to scare him out...but he doesn't notice because he's always drunk.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "'Motherf-... (cough)'\n\nA man stumbles through the door, steps over a dead dog and starts walking sideways into a wall.\n\n\"Motherf... dog's all burnt and shit, how the crazy bastard do that? How'd you do that dog? How you do that? Fuckin' wall\"\n\nThe man stays against the wall for some time. He seems unable to move, and despite being the only person in the house he continues to talk aloud.\n\n'How'd you do that? How'd he do that? He's even carved letters in his own face, wassat say... I MUST FEED!. The fuck? Must feed what? Fuckin' weird-ass scary dog, scary little stupid pooch. I should teach you a lesson, yeah, nail him, POW! Heh, biff baff boof! That'd show him... or maybe it's a her? What are you doggy, bitch or bastard? Nah that aint right... what's a male dog? How'd you do that poochy?'\n\nAt this point the man levers himself off the wall, and with all the grace of a blind, idiot rhino he stumbles forward and face-plants into the floor\n\n'FU-OOOW! Fucking dog-bastard piece of shit that hurt, my nose is bleeding, fuck sake. Wassat, fucking walls bleeding too, shit the bed that's funny. Oooh I'm a fucking ghost making bleeding walls and shit. Listen here ghost, I ain't got nowhere else to be, so quit your shit. I ain't leaving, I didn't leave when you threw shit at me, you pansy. I didn't leave when you kept opening and shutting doors for some reason, and I ain't leaving now. I'm absolutely shitfaced here, and I am in no mood for you or your nonsense, no mood you hear me!?'\n\nIn response to the man's sudden and quite ridiculous change of emotion, the walls stop bleeding.\n\n'Damn right, now I'm gonna go upstairs and sleep, so you can just shut the hell up!'\n\nThe man stands up and then sits down, topples sideways and lies staring straight ahead with one eye closed. As he watches, a lone white figure descends down the staircase towards him. Glowing with ethereal light the ghoul seems to hang in the air as it approaches; a vision of malevolance in motion.\nThe man stares at the vision moving hideously forward, and with the slightest of alarm, proceeds to vomit all over the floor in front of him. He rolls over, and starts snoring loudly.\n\nThe ghost stops, and a look of sadness passes across a female face. \n\nShe remembers dying in a life filled with joy. Two children, and dead giving birth to the third. She remembers holding on to this plain of existance, willing herself to remain for them, to shephard them. The newborn had died as well, but the other two had grown. She had watched her husband struggle and fail. Watched him starve to feed them, and watched the house dim from a place of colour to where she now resided.\n\nTwo suicides later and this was all she had now, the last of her family. A worn out drunk who begged, clinging to the house like a comfort blanket. It had fallen into disrepair when her husband could no longer afford the upkeep, and here it sat, foreclosure signs swaddling it from the night.\n\nThis man, her son, needed to leave. She needed him to leave behind his family and grow, to stand alone and be strong. She had tried to get him to leave, but it hadn't worked. Stubbornness was genetic she supposed. She knelt beside him, and stroked his hair, hand passing harmlessly through. He stirred, a ghost of a smile dancing across his lips.\n\nShe had stayed on to watch her family flourish, and seen it wither and die. She had to get him to leave it behind. She had to.\n\nEDIT : Thanks for the gold, mysterious internet denizen!", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You are one of the most feared people in organized crime. You get rid of problems for your employers by kindly and honestly convincing your targets to follow a different path in life.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Mike splashed his way out of the pool and came forward with his arms spread like he was going to give me a hug. Even years after he'd graduated from a street thug, his body still rippled with muscles; Mike stayed in good shape. \"Danny boy! It's been too long!\" I took a step back; I didn't want pool water all over my suit. He got the message and went for his towel instead. \"What can I do for you?\"\n\nI glanced around to see if there was anyone else within earshot. Mike had a nice house. A fresh green lawn, this big pool, and that gleaming sports car parked in the driveway out front. The life had certainly treated him well. \"Mike, why don't we take a walk?\"\n\nHis expression changed to confusion, then fear just as quickly. His eyes darted from me, to the gate behind me, and then to the house. He knew who I was; that I made people disappear when they needed to go. But he didn't quite yet know *how* I did my job. He'd learn soon enough. \"No need to run. I'm not going to hurt you. Come on; the park is just around the corner.\" Of course he knew that; this was his house, after all. \n\n\"So this is it, huh?\" I could sense the seething rage behind the calm exterior. No one likes to be betrayed. But this is how things work. \"This is how it ends?\"\n\nI nodded. This is how it ends. \n\n------\n\n\"The Don and I... we have an arrangement,\" I told Mike. We sat on a rickety bench near a fountain. I watched the streams of water flow, but Mike leaned back and stared at the clouds. \"See, most enforcers are messy. Thugs who leave trails of blood and bodies that lead straight back to the boss. And none of us want that, do we?\"\n\nMike stayed silent. He was resigned to his fate. And probably still expecting a bullet to the brain despite the fact that we were in public and in broad daylight. There was a playground 200 feet away, for Christ's sake. \n\n\"So instead, he lets me clean up messes the easy way. You get to leave. Go wherever the hell you want. We'll sell off the house, the cars, all of it, and deposit it into your account. You earned it.\"\n\nHe sighed. \"And what do I do then? Running drugs is all I know!\"\n\nI handed him an envelope. \"Congratulations, Mikey. You just got into veterinary school!\"\n\nHe unfolded the paper. He'd loved animals ever since he was a kid. It was the perfect fit. And not to mention that the school was in St. Kitts, a gorgeous Caribbean island. Couldn't get much better than that, eh?\n\n\"I didn't even finish *high school*,\" he whispered. \n\nI laughed. \"Mikey, our forged passports and papers are good enough to get past the Coast Guard, Homeland Security, the FBI... you think I can't fake a college degree for you?\"\n\nThe 'doom and gloom' expression was fading quickly as he realized what a great new life I was giving him. \"This is just...\" he read over the papers once again and shook his head. \"I just don't believe it! Why now? Why?\"\n\n\"It's not my place to say,\" I told him.\n\n\"But I've always been loyal!\" He raised his voice just a little, then remembered that we were in public. \"I've *always* been loyal,\" he hissed more softly. \"Always. I'm probably the *only* one of the top lieutenants who'd do *anything* for the Don! The other guys... they...\"\n\n\"I know, Mike. You're one of the good ones.\"\n\n\"It just doesn't make sense.\" He was reading the papers over once again, still in disbelief. \n\nI put a hand on his shoulder. \"I know. But you don't need to worry about it anymore, Mikey.\" I presented him with a second envelope with the plane ticket for St. Kitts. One way. \"Or should I say, *Dr.* Fodesca?\"\n\nHe grinned. \"Hey, I kinda like the sound of that.\"\n\n------\n\nI announced my presence in the Don's office with a slight cough. He looked up from the paperwork from one of our front organizations and waved me in. \"Well, is it done?\" \n\nI nodded. Instead of smiling, he grimaced and stood from the desk, pushing the plush leather chair back against the bookshelf behind him. He liked to decorate his office like he was some kind of lawyer; made him feel important. Not a single one of those leather-bound volumes had ever been touched. \n\n\"I just don't know about this.\" He walked to the bar and poured himself a drink. \"I mean, Salvatore and Dino were one thing, but Mikey too? He was one of the top sellers. And everything you said about the plan makes sense...\" As he spoke, he paced over to the window overlooking the elaborate gardens behind the house. \"I just... I don't know. None of them *seemed* like the type to go behind my back.\" He sighed and gulped down the rest of his booze. \"What do you think, Danny?\"\n\nI knocked softly on the mahogany wood paneling. Four guys entered the room. Low-level muscle, each about as smart as a caveman but built like a semi-truck. They came and stood behind me with fearsome glowering expressions. \n\n\"Don, why don't we take a walk?\" I answered. \n\n---\n\nIf you enjoyed this story, you should also subscribe to /r/Luna_Lovewell!", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " NYE, 1999. The bunker door is sealed, and you're safe from the Y2k apocalypse. 20 years later, your supplies are running low and you prepare for your first wasteland scavenging experience.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Never done one of these before but had a go at this one as had a spare bit of time. Not really a writer. Tried to line this prompt up with events of the lockdown lol as I had this image of someone coming out of a bunker to the pandemic emptiness. \n\n​\n\n\\------------------------------------------------------------\n\nStanley held a crumple cornered photograph in his hands, staring longingly at the faces it contained. His other hand rested on the door handle.\n\nHe often wondered what had become of them when the great disasters had hit. They'd never listened to him; \"Kooky Dad and his conspiracy theories!\" his daughter had joked at family dinners. It had broke his heart sealing himself in here without her joining, knowing he was dooming her. He hoped that however it had happened for her, it had been quick. That was the best one could hope with loss on such a scale. \n\nIt had been two decades, or so he believed, since he locked the door. He had stopped counting for a while a few years back, losing track of his paper calendar. He'd had to count back over the empty tins to work out how long he had stopped counting for, and even then he might have been wrong. He'd painstakingly marked it back down, crossing off each day in reverse with his Berol pen. He had definitely gotten it wrong, he knew, as oftentimes when cooking using his woodfire oven setup the tins would be ruined. It might be as much as a month more than he had counted. \n\n​\n\nLosing track of the days hit him hardest at the key dates. Was it actually his birthday? Or his daughters? Was it his anniversary today? Or was Christmas actually a month ago? He couldn't say. It had gnawed away at him, taunting him with the fact that not a single bit of the technology that could tell him the truth was in the bunker with him. That had been the whole point, after all. \n\n​\n\nThe Y2k Bug. The fear of it had burrowed deep into his mind, waking him at night, nibbling at his bones until he started making cotingency plans. And those plans had been addictive, at times like a soft toy to hug in the night but at others like a drug he craved. His plans had gotten more and more elaborate until he had suddenly created an entire underground home, tech free, where he could shelter. He had done everything right, water on a filter cycle, all manual of course, and tins upon tins of food. He'd ordered hundreds every pay day, stocking and stocking, knowing that it could never be enough. \n\n​\n\nAnd here he found himself, 20 years later, 3 days after his last food had run out. It was finally time to venture out. \n\nHe kissed the photo for luck, tucked it hastily into his coat, and turned the door handle with steely resolve, stepping out into the light. \n\n​\n\nHis old home was abandoned, as he expected, delapidated and miserable. He wondered what had happened above ground here, unbeknownst to him these last decades. He had stripped the house of technology too, which was probably how it had survived, but he could not pause to search through those dusty halls now. He needed food, and soon. \n\n​\n\nThe walk into town was a short one, but it took Stanley an hour, hiding carefully as he did in the brush that lined the lanes. He noted the lack of airplanes above him; he lived closed to an airport, and the silence revealed what he had always known. It had surely happened as he expected. \n\n​\n\nThe town, when he came to it, was surprisingly well preserved. The streets were clean, the shops orderly; but empty. Not a soul in sight. The sun was high in the sky, there had been a lively bustle here when he was last out. It pained him to see it empty, the harrowing knowledge that all the people he had known here were gone now. He nearly fell to the floor and wept, but the hunger drove him now, holding him upright. He headed straight to the supermarket, locked up and lights out. He peered inside, shocked to see piles of food. 'The panic must have not spread to smaller towns like this' he thought to himself. 'Or it happened too quickly for people to starve' came an unwelcome thought. He brushed it off, trying to resist looking at his photograph again. \n\n​\n\nHe forced the glass door open and it shattered, glass spreading everywhere. He dashed inside, finding an old trolley, and swept as much as he could from the tinned goods straight into it. He had to be fast, he didn't know what could be out here. He was rushing, panicking, but he grabbed a paper as he passed, determined to learn what had happened. Suddenly the shop alarm went off, like a klaxon blaring at him, lighting him up for whatever was out here with him. He ran, trolley desperately trundling in front of him, and the paper dropped to the floor behind him. \n\n​\n\nStanley made it back to the bunker, flushed with his success; he had enough tins to last another few years if he was careful. But most importantly to him, though he'd missed the headlines themselves he had seen the date on the paper, March 24th, 2020. He wondered why the robots still printed them.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You've finally worked up the nerve to ask out the cute girl who works at the coffee shop. Just when you're about to, Adam Conover, from \"Adam Ruins Everything\", appears to explain why this is a bad idea.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The coffee shop had the usual atmosphere you'd expect from a hipster place like that. Bearded men wearing flannel and short-haired women typing on their computers made up the mayority of the people present, with the odd business man waiting in line for his daily cappuccino. I wasn't really aware of my surroundings, so this is as much as I can say about it. I guess I could also mention how everything smelled like coffee and baked goods, but that should go without saying and, really, I was too focused on her to give a shit about anything else.\n\nI waited in line anxiously, shifting my weight on my feet as I bit my lip. I couldn't mess up. This was my only shot at this. I may not be *that* experienced with women, but I do know one thing when dealing with them, and that's that first impressions are disproportionally important. To an unfair degree, in my opinion. A guy could literally be the king of the world and still look like a raving pauper if he messes up his introduction. \n\nNeedless to say, I couldn't stop thinking about this fact as my turn to order got nearer. I mean, I *had* come to this coffee shop many times before, but I'm not the type of guy that leaves an impression on people if I don't work for it. For her, this was going to be the first time she would actually meet me.\n\nThe constant chatter of people dissolved into the background when I saw her behind the counter. She looked stunning, more so today than in any other. She fluttered around her beautiful red hair, taking orders and money from every customer, while she thanked everyone with the smile of an angelic being. It was as if her very presence uplifted all who encountered her. Sure, her physical appearance was nothing short of supermodel tier, but it was the way she carried herself, her graceful composure, what truly made me admire her.\n\nI was two customers away from finally meeting her when Adam tapped on my shoulder. He had a strange suit on, plus poofy blonde hair, large spectacles and a goofy smile. He then pointed at her and said:\n\n\"You do realize this is a horrible idea, right?\"\n\n\"Oh god...\" I said, \"not you. Not now, please.\"\n\n\"But this is the best time!\" said Adam, extending his arms. \"You're setting yourself up for failure. You probably don''t even know who she really is.\"\n\nI took a step back, crossed my arms, and said:\n\n\"I don't *have* to know who she is. That's the point. I *want* to know her better.\"\n\n\"Really? Do you really want to know her better? Cause I can help you with that right now.\"\n\n\"Fine,\" I said, \"go ahead!\".\n\n\"With pleasure.\" Adam grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the line. \"Tell me, how do you feel about destroying someone's relationship?\"\n\n\"I uhh... well, I'd never do that. It wouldn't moral on my part.\"\n\n\"What a shame...\" Adam grinned. \"Beacause odds are, she already has a boyfriend. You see, women as attractive as *that* are seldom single. In fact, the only way she'd be single right now is if she *wants* to be single at the moment.\"\n\nI sunk my head and said:\n\n\"So the outcomes here are that she's not interested in anyone at the moment or that I have to convince her to leave her current partner?\"\n\n\"Pretty much. If you're not willing to compete with an atractive guy with incredible physique or charisma, of which you have neither, you're wasting your time batting above your league.\"\n\n\"B-but I'm, different! I'd take her on amazing dates! I'd play music for her! I'd tolarate any whim she possesses!\" \n\n\"And that's the problem!\" Adamp pulled up a chair and sat on an empty table, gesturing me to do the same. \"You're not offering her anything she hasn't already gotten. If she wanted to do that, she'd just ask one of the dozens of guys waiting for her to be single, or ready to date again. She's known some of these guys for *years* and they still talk to her because they think they have a chance.\" \n\n\"So there's a queue...\"\n\n\"The fact that you're even seeing it that way means you've lost from the start. You can't come up to her wanting validation from her. You need to *want* to enjoy her company, not feel like you need to impress her. Anything else would just put pressure on her, making her feel uncomfortable. Would *you* want to hang out with someone that makes you feel like that?\"\n\n\"This... this is too much.\" I rubbed my forehead. \"So I'm just supposed to crush after her forever?\"\n\n\"Of course not. You're probably gonna get another crush on the cute librarian you see next week, or that hot blonde at the gym. Don't pretend like she's more special than any other chick you've fallen for. Still, go ahead and talk to her. Just keep in mind all I said.\"\n\n\"What?\" I blinked a couple of times. \"Why?\"\n\n\"Because you were too nervous before. Now that you see it as a futile endeavor, you're more likely to not mess it up. Just see this as practice. Probably nothing will come out of it, so don't see it as a means to an end. *Enjoy* it for what it is, two humans talking to each other. Seriously, go. The line's cleared up.\"\n\nI turned my head and saw it was true. I then stood up, walked up to her, and started talking. After thrity minutes of pleasant conversation, she laughed and gave me her number, saying we should hang out some time. A week later I met up with her and ended up heart broken, not because she didn't like me, but because she was actually a lesbian. Still, she ended up being a really cool friend, even if Adam ruined asking her out. \n\n--------------------\n>If you enjoyed this, you can check out more of my stories over at /r/WeirdEmoKidStories!", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You are so good at CPR you manage to revive anyone, a miracle, but people start calling you a necromancer", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"I'm a *what*?\" Asked Geoffrey. He looked out at the mob lining the path. It was almost the entire village. \n\"A necromancer.\" Answered Terry, butcher and nominal leader of the group. \"Because, you know,\" he waved his cleaver at the mob \"you raise the dead.\" \nA couple of *yeahs!* and waving of torches backed up his statement. Geoffrey frowned, causing the group to step back and cross themselves. Those with torches screamed quietly as they learnt why you don't do complex hand gestures whilst holding burning sticks. \n\"No I don't.\" His head twitched to Terry in puzzlement. \n\"Yes you do, Geoff. What about Mary?\" The cleaver pointed at a young woman who waved cheerfully, almost oblivious to the rusty sickle in her other hand. \n\"She nearly *drowned.*\" Geoffrey explained exasperately. \"All I did was pump the water from her lungs and give her some air. Not Necromancy.\" \n\"Fine then. What about Hank?\" \n\"Hank had a heart attack. I just kept his heart going till it restarted a normal rhythm.\" Geoffrey turned to the crowd. \"You know this is basic first aid, right? CPR? Anyone?\" Terry coughed politely. \n\"And what about Dave? He was decal...decapiy... had his head cut off.\" The cleaver pointed at Dave, followed by the mob's eyes. A scar ran round around his neck, which he rubbed self-consciously. \n\"Huh.\" Geoffrey looked nonplussed at Dave, before returning to Terry. \"That's not normal?\" Terry shook his head. \n\"Huh.\" Geoffrey shrugged his shoulders. \"I'll remember that next time.\" A plume of black smoke shot into the sky and Geoffrey disappeared. The mob sighed with relief. At least *this* time they had got it right.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You are the God of small things and you were quite content with your lot-until the purge.Your temples lay burnt, your priests bathed in their own blood your priestesses shared the same fate yet only after being violated.They will pay for you are the god of small things- small not insignificant", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Now I’ll be the first to admit that “God of Small Things” is not as glamorous of a title as “Lord of the Skies”. It does however come in handy more than you think it would. My domain extends up to pens and pencils, though I can make small books work if I try hard enough. And I used to enjoy my job, ensuring people didn’t lose their keys, didn’t step on that shard of glass, ensuring their band-aids didn’t fall off. Unfortunately, small things are easily overlooked.\n\n\r \nAnd so, when I was promoted to the council of Zefak, replacing the God of Medicine, people weren’t as happy as they should have been. \n\n\r \nI still hear their blood-curling screams, I feel their fire blazing through my veins, my bones breaking as people demolished my statues. As every trace of me was removed, so did I start disappearing. \n\n\r \nThere were a few that managed to hide, a few that didn’t have to share my downfall. When it was quiet, I could hear their prayers in the whispering wind, begging me to protect myself, begging me to resist. And so I did. My domain extends up to pens and pencils, but it extends downwards too.\n\n\r \nI tried to be benevolent, I really did. I removed all adrenaline and testosterone in their blood. It worked for a while, they went home, hugged their children and partners, not feeling that anger anymore. It worked for a while. \n\n\r \nAs soon as they realised, however, it was over. That feeling of betrayal, violation, fueled them more than simple anger ever did. I flooded them with dopamine, oxytocin and serotonin, but as soon as the rush faded, back to violence it was. \n\n\r \nI see now that it was foolish, that it broke more than it fixed. Benevolence never stood a chance. \n\n\r \nIt was a Friday evening, the streets were red with blood. I was trying to shut it all out, trying to assure myself that it’ll stop eventually, but I simply didn’t believe it would anymore. \n\n\r \nBrains were very complicated, it had taken me a few weeks to understand their intricacies, the way it interacted with the body, with itself, but as soon as I fully understood, there was no limit to what I could make them believe, make them think and what I could make them do. \n\n\r \nSo on that Friday evening, I made them stop. Some disintegrated into the wind, others were smart enough to surrender before I got to them, though they will remain on my list forever. And trust me, that is no small thing.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " The zombie virus has infected everyone on earth except your little group, holed up in an old monastery.One day there is a polite knock on the gate. It seems after the initial frenzy , things have gone quite back to normal and the WWF have put you on the endangered species list.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Glurhhhhm once again read over the WWF’s documents outlining their efforts to breed Pandas. Hoping against hope to find some ideas, anything he could use for the humans.\n\n“At least the pandas were willing to eat”, he said softly. Our humans have refused any care packages we’d left outside the monastery. And they hadn’t bred a single offspring in the 5 years they’d been holed up there.\n\nGlurhhhhm could understand. After all, it was the poaching and senseless sport hunting perpetuated by the zombies that had caused the human endangerment in the first place. That didn’t make it any less frustrating. How had the humans survived, even dominated, for 10’s of thousands of years with such abismal survival instincts?\n\nHe continued reading. Pandas had been separated and reintroduced when they reached sexual maturity, which seemed to have had some success. Perhaps we could steal the young humans and attempt this? A dark thought, but times were getting desperate. Glurhhhhm would speak with the council tonight.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You're a psychiatric patient undergoing therapy because you hallucinate imaginary people. You're slowly starting to realise your therapist isn't real.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "“Come on in.”\n\n\nI walk into the therapist’s private office – well, I think it’s his private office; his name was on the placard outside in small, bold black letters. This therapist was supposed to be one of the best around, at least according to my friend Sig. Then again, Sig still thinks I wanted to see a therapist for mild trauma. When I’ve told people about my… *condition* in the past, they didn’t react very positively.\n\n\n“It looks like you’re drifting off.” The therapist’s voice cuts through my thoughts, startling me slightly. I look back at him, a rather kindly looking middle-aged man, with a presence that seems to have patience beyond measure. \n\n\nI breathe in, and speak: “Sorry about that. I-I’m fine now.”\n\n\nThe therapist paces around, observing me. I self-consciously straighten up a bit, and he smiles. “You don’t need to tense up, Mr. Jackson. Please, sit, and tell me what’s going on.”\n\n\nI sit down on the leathery couch provided, and the therapist seats himself on a wooden chair. “Um, I’m not sure how to say this, but, well, I see things.”\n\n\n“What kind of things?”\n\n\n“People,” I reluctantly reply. “I see people who… aren’t there. They’re usually very nice, friendly even, but, well, they aren’t real.” The therapist makes a move to speak, but I blurt out “but they feel real! I know they aren’t real – my family, the doctors, they tell me they aren’t real – but they seem real to me until someone points it out. Then, well, they disappear over time, and someone else always seems to appear.” \n\n\n“And how does that make you feel?” *Oh come on*, I think, *first the couch, now this cliché*? \n\n\n“It makes me feel, I don’t know, um, upset?”\n\n\n“Are you asking me how you feel, Mr. Jackson?” The therapist’s face glows with a half-grin.\n\n\n“It makes me feel upset,” I state firmly. \n\n\n“Or does it make you feel alone?”\n\n\nMy heart skips a beat. *How could he possibly know that*?\n\n\nThe therapist looks at me, chocolate brown eyes piercing through my inner being. “Irony of ironies, yes. You envision friends and acquaintances, a veritable parade of people in your life who are kind to you, but you feel empty and alone. These visions are temporary, unfulfilling.”\n\n\nHe’s hit a nerve, and he knows it. I don’t like it. “No, it makes me feel upset!” I shout, but I know he doesn’t believe me. He’s just waiting for me to calm down a little so that he can tell me… *wait*. \n\n\nThose brown eyes soften into a smile again. “Yes, Mr. Jackson, you’ve almost grasped it.”\n\n\n“You-you’re saying – but I saw your name outside! And why would you help me end the hallucinations if you’re one, too? Won’t that make you cease to exist?”\n\n\nThe therapist sighs wistfully, looking beyond me. “Existence is a tricky thing, Mr. Jackson. As you’ve pointed out, people keep appearing and disappearing to you, but none of them display the typical symptoms that a therapist could diagnose you with – no anger or paranoia, only a desire to befriend.”\n\n\n“You – they – are driving me insane!”\n\n\n“You’re doing that to yourself, Mr. Jackson. *We* embody the void you refuse to fill, trying to offer you advice along the way. Open yourself to the world again, and you’ll be fine.”\n\n\n“What do you mean we – no, no no no no no, is Sig a hallucination too!?”\n\n\nThe therapist stands up, and motions me to do the same. “Your time is up, Mr. Jackson, and I believe mine is as well. Don’t wait for others to come to you – seek them out yourself.”\n\n\nI slowly walk out, blinking the wateriness from my eyes. The door closes behind me, and I turn around suddenly, hoping for some confirmation that it was real, that I wasn’t crazy. To my disappointment, the bold black letters spell out something else: “FOR LEASE.” I try the door handle, but it’s locked. Maybe it was always locked.\n\n\nI go outside to the busy street, and signal for a cab. When I turn around, I accidentally bump into a pedestrian.\n\n\n“Hey watch it!” she huffs, crossing her arms and glaring at me.\n\n\n“I’m so sorry! I-I’ve just been a little distracted today.”\n\n\nShe looks like she’s going to say something, but then stops, the corners of her lip twitching upward. “You’re just lucky that you’re cute.”\n\n\nFor the second time today, my heart skips a beat. “Oh, um, well…” This time, she grins at me. Why is she smiling?\n\n\n“How about,” she begins, before getting interrupted as a taxi pulls up to the curb, “how about you make up for it sometime?”\n\n\nI’m not sure how many beats my heart has skipped now. I start to duck my head and move towards the cab before the therapist – no, the memory of today’s hallucination – pops back into my mind. *Don’t wait for others to come to you – seek them yourself*. I turn back to the girl.\n\n\n“Sure, I-I’ll try to do that. Um, this sounds a little weird, but… how do I know if you’re real?”\n\n\nShe smiles at me, then pulls out a slip of paper and a pen. “Oh, you’re good. If this doesn’t magically disappear by tonight, call me, okay?” She folds the slip of paper in half, then hands it to me before hopping into the cab.\n\n\nI unfold the piece of paper. Ten digits, two dashes, and a name at the end: “Anna.”\n\n\n***\n\n\nFrom a small window in his office, the therapist watches the scene unfold. Content with his last patient, he walks back to his desk and presses a button, swapping out the name signs again. A few minutes later, someone knocks on the door.\n\n\n“Come on in.” ", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " A cleric and a necromancer find themselves in an adventuring party together. Their conflicting views on life, death, and the undead, often lead them to quarrel. Despite their constant arguing, the two have developed a budding romance, an occurrence quite confusing to the rest of the party.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "“Will you quit raising skeletons!”\n\n“Why? It’s the same as your raising spell.”\n\n“I’ll have you know that my raise spell works on knocked out people only.”\n\n“It does not.”\n\n“Are you crazy? I revived you last week.”\n\n“I was dead dead. I chilled with the gods, and newsflash, it’s not those gods that gave you your cleric powers. You revived me just before I could try to score with them! You’re just a white robed Necromancer.”\n\n“I have morals and codes that a cleric lives by, it’s nothing like necromancy.”\n\n“What good does that do when I’ve been ruining the sanctity of life my whole life and still got to unwind with the big men themselves. Well big men and big women gods.”\n\n“The gods you hang out with are probably war gods or something of -”\n\n“Actually, it’s all artsy gods. Like the god of love and there’s a god of parties, oh and a god of booze, god of mead, and -”\n\n“Wow. Hedonistic gods whose personality is centered on booze…”\n\n“Yeah. Maybe, you know, existence should be enjoyed. A pretty lady such as yourself shouldn’t be worried about the afterlife. You got so many years-”\n\n“Hello? I’m not doing it for a spot in the afterlife. I’m doing it to help others.”\n\n“Well, why don’t you help me out huh?”\n\n“I can’t believe you said that.”\n\n“Come on. Have you ever been with a guy? Or did you take that vow of chastity?”\n\n“I didn’t.”\n\n“Oooooh. Really?”\n\n“I didn’t take any vows.”\n\n“Then let’s go out for a drink sometime.”\n\n“You’re not winning me over with a drink.”\n\n“I’m not planning to.”\n\n“Then what are you scheming then.”\n\n“Woah. Woah. Pretty rude of you to stereotype me for being a Necromancer. We’re not all evil masterminds here.”\n\n“You’re definitely not a mastermind.”\n\n“You sure? I think I got you open to hanging out with me.”\n\n“Did I even say I will go out with you?”\n\n“No, but wouldn’t it be nice to get to know each other more?”\n\n<>\n<>\n<>\n\nOver in a tavern nearby, a rogue reunites with his party by pulling off his invisibility cloak. A captivated Barbarian and Wizard is waiting to hear news from the rouge, the Barbarian starts,\n\n“So have you found out anything.”\n\n“They are going to go out for drinks tonight.”\n\n“God damn it.” The Wizard shouted.\n\n“Looks like your high INT didn’t foresee this.” The Barbarian said and held out his hand. The Wizard shoots him a glare and she pulls out some money from her pouch and slaps it into the greedy warriors palms. The Barbarian and Wizard leave for the night, while the rogue stays behind with the Innkeeper. The keeper notices the smirk on the rogue’s face and questions,\n\n“What’s got you so giddy today?”\n\n“Everyone is hooking up with each other.”\n\n“That must be good for your bets. The Barbarian and Wizard, and the Necromancer and Cleric. What’s your next prediction.”\n\n“Innkeeper and Weaponsmith.”\n\n“You’re not saying that I’m going to hook up with Alieah now, are you?”\n\n“Here let me pour you a shot and tell you why.”\n\nThe innkeeper grabs a bottle and hands it to the rogue. The rogue holds a glass in his hand, his face is that of a showman’s. The glass slowly fills with liquid, while the bottle is draining from the thief’s hand. The Innkeeper is baffled to see this,\n\n“How are you doing that without lifting the bottle?”\n\n“I'll teach you sometime. Here.” The rogue slides the glass over.\n\n“Thank the gods, I needed a drink since I lost the last bet.” He takes a swig and then asks, “so, how are you guessing that I will end up with Alieah?”\n\n“You always had a thing for her back when I was the innkeeper.”\n\n“I did not.”\n\n“Oh yeah? When she’s with a different guy every few months, you’re in here drinking your sorrows away.”\n\n“That’s still not going to make me waltz over to her and confess my feelings.”\n\n“No. You just need a little help from my friend.”\n\n“What are you saying?”\n\n“You know how we all sort of thought that the Barbarian and Wizard was a thing?”\n\n“You did. We all lost on that one.”\n\n“Oh that’s right. Then I said it’s the Necromancer and the Cleric next. We got into that one, except the wizard.”\n\n“Yes. Yes. I get it you’re psychic.”\n\n“Oh no. I’m not psychic.”\n\n“What do you mean?”\n\n“There’s something I did to everyone before they hooked up.” The innkeeper’s face begins to redden and he looks at his hand.\n\n“What, what am I feeling?”\n\n“I made a stop at the alchemist today. It was easy profit, I already had the materials for him to make it.”\n\n“What! What did you make?”\n\n“A love potion.”", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "Why is there a gold disc of archaic technology imbedded with information, and where did it come from?", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"But how can you be sure?\"\n\n\"There's just no chance it *could* be. Look at this. Look here,\" Willis pointed at the tattered gold foils, \"This isn't a construction that we've ever seen before. It just doesn't make sense, this construction, it wouldn't have worked with our technology. Just not possible. And look here too.\"\n\nWillis ran a gloved hand across the body of the satellite. Scorch marks stretched across its face; thin blackened talon that seemed to claw at its construction.\n\n\"These marks aren't consistent with something that we could have launched. Bear in mind, Moira, that the Pisces crew intercepted this from orbit. These aren't marks from atmospheric re-entry they're--\"\n\n\"It launched without a fairing? But how could it have survived those forces?\"\n\n\"Precisely. This isn't anything that I've seen before. No records of any satellite of this construction at all. It simply could not have come from here. These marks, too, they're consistent with atmospheric exit. Look how they flare out at the bottom. This is something from,\" Willis paused, \"From I don't know where.\"\n\nWillis removed his hand from the object, the plastic of his hazmat suit screeching against itself. This was a startling discovery. Tangible evidence, perhaps, of the existence of intelligent life elsewhere in the universe. International news coverage of the Pisces mission had been halted abruptly since the discovery of this object. False stories were created and fed to journalists: the mission had returned prematurely due to crew illness, some stated; there had been a fault with the main engine and the slingshot attempt had been aborted ran others. Nobody knew that now, in one small laboratory hidden beneath the streets of London, a small team of scientists were digesting the most disturbing discovery in human history.\n\nThe satellite was small. Small, that is, by our standards and understanding. An unassuming grey cube, bordered by four triangular sails. On one face, surrounded by these golden wings, lay a small indentation; at its core, a small golden disc, no bigger than one of the Pisces craft's data stores.\n\n\"Do we know how to access this,\" Moira asked, \"Perhaps we could extract the raw data and send it across to Analytics?\"\n\n\"It's worth a shot. Just take the whole disc to them. It's more use to them than us,\" Willis handed the disc to Moira, \"Strange though. Same configuration as Voyager.\"\n\nWillis continued to examine the lifeless satellite as Moira left the room. The Pisces crew had been in orbit of Mars at the time they intercepted the thing. Something had been jamming the signals from the PYTH4GORAS probe, presumably a jammed aerial or minor damage from debris kicked up by an asteroid impact was the general diagnosis. As Pisces approached PYTH4GORAS however, it became obvious that's something far more peculiar was to blame for the interruption. Its aerial had become entangled with the golden foils of this strange, alien satellite, and both probes were tangled and spinning out of control. A brief check by the Pisces crew confirmed no record of this second entangled craft, and so the mission priority was changed to retrieval and quarantine of this undocumented probe. Initial analysis by ground crews theorised that this had been an undisclosed launch by North Korea perhaps, disguised as one of their all too frequent ICBM tests.\n\nMoira returned to the laboratory.\n\n\"Willis-- Analytics have examined the disc. Are you sure that there's no documentation of this satellite anywhere? At all?\"\n\n\"Absolutely none. Like I said, the construction, the materials, the markings. Absolutely none. I've never seen anything like it.\"\n\n\"And there's no chances you've overlooked something?\"\n\n\"Absolutely none.\"\n\nMoira bit over her lip. \"This can't be possible, Willis. Analytics extracted the data from the disc. No encryption, no coding, nothing. Just a straight rip of the data and they say it's identical to the disc we sent with Voyager.\"\n\n\"Then it was left there, for us to discover. It can't be anything else. Someone has found Voyager out there, and they're letting us know. They must have known that we'd come searching for the broken probe.\"\n\n\"Then what does this mean?\"\n\n\"When will the Pisces be ready to launch again? We need to reply. We need to make first contact.\"", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " As the killer draws closer to the cabin of teenagers. He had no idea they were in fact werewolves and the full moon just came out.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Marcus White was very good at his software engineer day job, which gave him plenty of time to really hone in on his hobby of killing teenagers in secluded cabins in dark forests.\n\nKilling relaxed Marcus, he found. It was one of those things that kept him sane at a well-paying, if ultimately unfulfilling job. He's found his potential victims already today, and even had time to indulge in some exquisite tea and biscuits before the curtain of night covered the sky.\n\nWith his trusty axe clutched in one hand, Marcus walked forward, admiring the beautiful, full moonlight that would serve as garnish to the main course of murder. He was practically salivating at the thought of it.\n\nMarcus did notice the moon was full today, emitting soft rays onto the dilapidated wooden cabin in front of Marcus. He could hear the scrambling and screaming inside, presumably from a few young bloods who just realized that the door has been clasped and shut very tightly.\n\nMarcus chuckled, pulling on a mask. They sounded like a lively, if agonizing bunch. It should be very fun. He cleared his throat, lowered his voice, and said as menacingly as he could:\n\n\"Ready or not, here I come,\" he growled. Marcus nodded. He was rather pleased with it.\n\n\"Please, stay away!\"\n\nMarcus paused. Please? They were very polite indeed. Responses tended to range from indistinguishable screeches to panicked speech. Good manners deserve a slightly swifter execution, Marcus thought. \n\n\"Don't worry,\" Marcus said. \"I'm here to help. To help relieve you from your mortal prison.\"\n\n\"Really? You can stop us?\"\n\nStop them? What the hell were these teenagers talking about?\n\nMarcus smashed the door open. Looking straight ahead, all he saw were several furry forms of black, brown, and grey. He tilted his eyes up, watching one girl's face, desperately pleading:\n\n\"Please,\" she said. \"Please stop us.\"\n\nMarcus gulped as the girl finished her transformation. Four werewolves now stood on the creaky floorboards, raising their heads high up to the air, and howled.\n\nMarcus White was good at killing defenceless teenagers, not physical specimens far beyond what the human body could hope to replicate. \n\nHe dropped his axe on the ground, and cowered. Briefly, for soon there was nothing much left of Marcus White.\n\n---\n\nr/dexdrafts", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "dump the entirety of humanity’s trash into it. You are one of the trash men working closest to the portal.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"Of course, we, the citizen, have to work near some mysterious fucking hole,\" Jimmy complained as always, while John casually pushed more trash into the hole. It wasn't really a hard thing to do since it seemed that the portal actually consumed it all.\n\n\"Calm down, old man,\" John shouted as he turned off his machine and came down from it. \"I thought of doing something,\" he said, smiling.\n\n\"Oh, what's that?\" Jimmy stopped his doing and turned around.\n\n\"See what that is?\" he showed a small piece of machine, carefully, so only Jimmy could see it.\n\n\"Camera?\"\n\nJohn nodded. \"It's a wireless camera.\"\n\n\"Do you think those assholes haven't done it already?\" Jimmy said, laughing.\n\n\"They probably have, but they haven't told us anything, am I right? So, I want to know what they're hiding,\" John said, glancing around to make sure that nobody saw him. He carefully turned the camera on.\n\n\"Gimme that,\" Jimmy said and grabbed straight after it showed signs of working.\n\n\"Fucking trash,\" Jimmy shouted and just threw it into the hole. Few guards looked for a moment. \"Get back to work, you lazy bastard,\" he shouted but gave him a quick wink.\n\nJohn smiled and got back on his machine. He got out his hidden phone and opened the camera app. Of course, in ordinary circumstances, he shouldn't have a phone in an important place like that - that place was restricted and classified. But he had his own ways to smuggle it in. They did get tons of trash there, after all.\n\nBut as he turned on the camera, the whole screen was blurry. It seemed that the signal barely got through.\n\n\"Eeh, so, that's why they're cau-\" but he got silent as he saw something moving at the other side.\n\n\"Hello there. Who are you?\" John whispered, examining phone, carefully, while also trying to work and push more trash in it.\n\nA camera was picked up, and everything went even more blurry. But he saw a black shape looking straight into it the camera.\n\n\"What... the... fuck,\" John stopped the machine and stared at the screen. He could see thousands and thousands of those beings being around the very trash they're pushing in. It seemed as they were eating the trash.\n\nBut what was scary, was the fact that the beings moved closer, and closer towards the portal. It's almost as the trash was there to bait them to come through the portal.\n\nThe scientists seemed genuinely excited at their sound-proof nearby room-\n\n\"Okay, that's enough. We ask you to leave now.\" A guard walked out, getting his weapon ready. \"Scientists need to do their work.\"\n\n\"This is wrong,\" John said, jumping down from the huge machine, showing the phone to the guard. \"We don't want those beings into our world!\"\n\nThe guard instantly kicked the phone away. \"You...\" he said, examining John.\n\n\"Hey, what are you doing, get away,\" one of the scientists shouted from the speakers. Some other machinery began to move, probably something meant to catch whoever was coming out from the portal.\n\n\"Stop it, this is madness,\" John shouted. The guard just took hold of him and began to drag him away. Jimmy followed, casually, secretly grabbing the phone on the way.\n\nJohn was dragged across the corridors and was thrown into a cell. Jimmy followed him the whole way, hands up.\n\n\"We'll deal with you later,\" the guard said, leaving them there, a bit in a hurry.\n\nJimmy quickly got the phone and showed it to John. \"There you go. What did you see?\"\n\nJohn turned the app back on and waited for the signal. Sweat began to gather. He knew that it would appear the moment they entered through the portal. It was almost as he was playing half-life, except it was really happening to him.\n\nAnd then a clear signal connected. He saw how completely black, human-shaped, beings entered through the portal.\n\nBut before he saw the following bloodshed, he managed to see a glimpse of a black being's smile, as he looked again directly into the camera, almost like examining John.\n\n\"Fuck me,\" John whispered.\n\n----\n\n/r/Elven", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Suddenly the dead have risen. The living corpses are walking the streets. But they are not craving our flesh, they are just as scared and confused as we are.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "In the first hour there was fear.\n\nIn the second hour there was confusion.\n\nIn the third hour there was joy.\n\nIt had been four hours since the dead had woken up. All the news on the television kept repeating the same footage over and over again. Bewildered soldiers climbing out of tanks and lowering their weapons as their former friends and family along with others marched out of cemeteries. Unlike the movies, they were not after our brains, but rather our love.\n\nWhen it became apparent our loved ones weren’t hostile. People screamed and cheered as they dove into the throng of the former dead. While some bore some fatal injuries, most families didn’t care at what cost for them to be together. \n\n“Mom, mom, I’m here!” A young boy rushed past my window as he leaped into his deceased mother’s embrace. I’ve already lost count of the number of families being reunited and the number of smiles on people's faces when they hugged with their beloveds. \n\nIt should have been an hour of celebration and happiness. The inhabitants of two worlds brought together under the banner of one. I should have cracked open my door for the first time in four months and waded out into the mass to yell in elation.\n\nInstead, I drew my blankets closer to myself and turned off the TV after yet another rebroadcast.\n\nA single tear slid down my cheek as I turned my head towards the porcelain urns sitting on the mantel.\n", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "In one paragraph, write the most disgusting and despicable character you can ever come up with. In the second paragraph, kill them in a way that makes me feel sorry for them.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Bill snuck along the base of a tall, ivy-clad brick wall. His pick and shovel picked up flecks of moonlight, otherwise he was nearly invisible. He came to a wrought iron gate and climbed over it in one, fluid movement, the sound of his tools clanking together and a slight groan from the gate the only evidence of his transgression. He moved fluidly through the weathered old headstones until he came to one that looked newer than the others, the concrete still glowing white. He lay his bag down and started digging. Soon, he came to a small coffin. Inside was a child, no older than three. Bill grabbed the child, threw it over his shoulder and climbed out of the re-dug grave. He left the graveyard the same way he came in, leaving his tools behind.\n\nSteve was sitting at home watching TV, his broken leg in a cast and propped up by an ottoman, when he heard a pounding on the door. It was late, and he wasn't expecting anybody. \"Who is it?\" he yelled, but another round of pounding was the only response. \"Fine, fine,\" Steve said and hobbled to his feet. He opened the door to a man covered in dirt, wild eyed, clutching what looked to be a dead child. \"You! You! You look at this!\" the man said, before setting the dead child down and pulling out a large kitchen knife. \"Wait, wait!\" Steve said, taking one awkward step backwards before falling to the ground. Bill pounced on him, stabbing his midsection until Steve's cries for help turned to a whispered gurgle. Bill sat upright over his victim, looked upward for a moment before plunging the knife deep into his own gut.\n\nStacy's phone rang, waking her up from a light, tormented sleep. \n\n\"Hello?\" she said. \n\n\"Mrs. Miller? This is Detective Samuels with the Lancaster Police. There's been an incident. We'll need you to come down to the station.\"\n\n\"Okay,\" she replied, \"I'm on my way.\"\n\nThe station's lights were a harsh fluorescent, and Stacy squinted walking through the door. She was ushered downstairs, where three sheets were draped over three metal tables. She took her time with each body. First, her husband, Bill, his face still flushed with life. She reached out and touched it softly. Then her child. Stacy's impulse was to pick her up, to hold her. The urge was so strong she could feel her biceps flexing, her hands were clenched. She didn't have to see the third body to know who it was. Steve, the Police Chief's son. The man who t-boned her at an intersection. The man who killed her daughter. The man who got off scott-free.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Many milenia ago your significant other was granted immortality and eternal health for themselves and all their loved ones. Today you got sick.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"I'm not an idiot, Mal. I know what this means.\" \n\n\"Katherine, stay in bed!\" Malence Grey pushed his wife back down onto the four-poster bed. She glared at him, but lacked the strength to resist, flopping limply amongst the knotty silk sheets. \"I'm going to find you a doctor. A good one. This is...this is nothing.\"\n\n\"A doctor?\" Katherine closed her eyes. Her breath came and went in a labored rasp. \"How? You stopped bothering with paperwork 50 years ago. I don't have any ID that says I'm younger than 75. You don't think that'll be a problem?\"\n\n\"We have plenty of money, Kat,\" said Mal, pacing to the bureau and pulling out a clean pair of pants. \"Even doctors can be bought if you have enough...\"\n\n\"*That's not the point!*\" howled Katherine, that final syllable smothered in a wave of wet, choking coughs. \"I know why I'm sick. *I know.*\"\n\nMal considered this, hovering in the space between the bureau and the bed, unsure what to say or even where to look. \"It isn't how you think,\" he finally replied, his voice low, barely more than a whisper.\n\n\"It is,\" said Katherine. \"This has been *your* ride, Mal. I'm just a passenger. I may have thought you'd love me forever when we were 20 years old, but that was ages ago. I'm too young to be that naive. Just tell me about her.\"\n\nMal moved to the edge of the bed. \"There's no one else, I swear.\"\n\n\"Look at me,\" said Katherine. Mal complied. The two lovers stared into each other's eyes. \n\n\"Oh god,\" said Katherine, tears escaping like frightened thieves from the corners of her eyes. \"You're not lying, are you?\"\n\nMal shook his head. His own tears were heavy and slow and clung to the ridge of his cheekbones. \"I'm so sorry,\" he whispered.\n\n\"No,\" said Katherine, shaking her head. \"It's fine. It's fine. It's been a long time.\"\n\n\"I'm trying,\" said Mal. \"I don't want to lose you.\" He put out his hand. Katherine took it and squeezed back. \"We've seen so much. I can't imagine...I just...I'm trying so hard...\"\n\n\"Don't,\" said Katherine. \"Don't try. It doesn't work that way. Not for anyone. No matter how much you want it to.\"\n\n\"I'm scared,\" said Mal. \"I'm so scared of losing you.\"\n\nKatherine laughed weakly, but honestly. \"You had me so long. *So long*. Don't you realize how marvelous that is? My life has been utterly dependent on your love and you've kept me alive for...how many thousands of years? God Mal. It seems cruel, I suppose, but how lucky I've been. How very lucky. Love isn't meant to last through the centuries.\"\n\n\"It should be forever,\" said Mal, pulling his wife's hand up to his mouth and kissing her knuckles gently. \"How could I ever fall out of love with you? How? You're just as wonderful and kind and warm as when we first met. What's wrong with me? Why is this...why can't I...?\"\n\nBut Katherine pulled her husband close and put her hands on his face. \"Please don't question yourself. When I'm gone you'll still be here, and you need to know that's okay. You haven't failed me. You haven't failed anyone. You've been the best husband and father and friend I could ever ask for. I love you, Malence.\"\n\n\"I love you, too,\" he said, kissing his wife on the forehead. \"No matter what. I do love you. I do.\"\n\n\"I know,\" said Katherine, smiling as she closed her eyes. \"I know.\" ", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "there's a counter-Earth orbiting on the opposite side of the sun, always just out of sight. That was 40 years ago. It's 2017, and our probe sends back its first images.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The astronomers of antiquity first hypothesized of a planet precisely opposite that of Earth, a sister planet orbiting the Sun 180 degrees from our own. The Greek philosopher Philolaus called it *Antichthon*, or Counter-Earth; the Latin cosmographer Mela feverishly drew maps of this unknown planet; the Danish-Irish astronomer J.L.E. Dreyer pushed 19th century technology to its limit to try and find hard evidence of this unseen twin.\n\nBut it wasn't until the Space Race that humanity took to this idea more seriously.\n\nThough the Soviets had lost the race to the moon, they had made some great strides studying Earth's hellish sister, Venus. But their *Venera* program, though ultimately successful, was fraught with difficulties; the earlier probes were destroyed after being inexplicably pulled off course by unpredicted gravitational forces. Try as they might, Soviet scientists could not deduce the source; instead, they simply calculated the magnitude based on failed missions, factored it in as new constant, and were able to successfully land the first human-made craft on extraterrestrial soil.\n\nBut those mysterious forces continued to intrigue them, and a full scale scientific investigation was launched when NASA scientists admitted that they, too, had to factor in an unknown gravity for all of their missions, whether it were flybys of Venus and Mars or landing the Apollo spacecraft of the moon. In fact, the very orbits of the Moon around Earth and the Earth around the Sun involved a degree of uncertainty; there was something out there we hadn't seen yet. \n\nWe got our first glimpse by a happy accident.\n\nIn the late 1980's, an American satellite was launched with faulty equipment, and ended up superseding geostationary velocity. It drifted off into the black of space and pulled into a rough orbit around the Sun, trailing behind the Earth like puppy. Looking for something to salvage, NASA worked on analyzing the images the satellite took, using a small, low-resolution camera stuck someone had though to add to the chassis. They reasoned that these pictures were coming from a new point of view, and so could be of some scientific value. \n\nOne day, we received a startling ping from the satellite: a grainy, black-and-white picture of what seemed like a planet no one had ever observed before.\n\nEven as the political climate between the two countries grew ever tenser, NASA and Roscosmos collaborated to conclude that it was not a picture of one of the outer planets - they would have appeared much smaller. Neither was it Mars or Earth - the continents were far too different. Most shockingly, some of the land masses looked strange, almost wavy, like a liquid - as if they were oceans. \n\nScientists waited in vain for more images, but the first one had been by pure chance; the rotating satellite, which had been periodically taking pictures, had managed to get one of the mystery planet while it had been facing in its direction. As it was drifting farther and farther from the Earth due to its slower velocity and the pull of something beyond, the satellite one day disappeared behind the sun, and we lost all contact. \n\nBut that only pushed scientists to create more probes, this time with the express purpose of finding out more about this previously unknown celestial entity. Decades of work were done, and multiple sources, from American, Russian, European and even the newly formed Japanese and Indian space programs, all confirmed that there was a water-laden, green planet orbiting about 180 degrees from Earth, with respect to the solar barycenter. Studying it directly was difficult, as the sun's massive size and electromagnetic field, scrambled communication as it slipped between Earth and any launched probe.\n\nBut a solution was proposed. Worldwide, astronomers calculated that this Planet X must come within 0.25-0.32 astronomical units of Venus during their orbits. A powerful probe, named *Galileo*, was built using funds from all nations, and it soon smoothly slid into orbit around Venus, awaiting the proper time when Planet X would come by closest. \n\nAs Earth would lose all contact when the *Galileo* disappeared behind the sun, the probe was programmed with sophisticated computers to conduct the rest of its mission with precise autonomy. It would fire its rockets and launch away from Venus when the time was right, roughly moving into the Lagrangian point between the unknown planet and the sun. Of course, it would be taking hundreds of high-resolution, color pictures the whole time, and take hundreds more of the planet once in place.\n\nEventually, it would reignite thrusters back toward Venus, though it would not take orbit again; instead, it would employ a complicated maneuver that used Venus as a gravitational sling to throw the probe back to Earth. Recovering it was of secondary concern, mostly a worry of the politicians who had been stingy with funding this very expensive mission; astronomers were poised to receive the gigabytes of image data the *Galileo* would be transmitting back to Earth as soon as it came into range. \n\nThe whole mission would take over three years to complete. But as the time of its return came and went, scientists mourned what they assumed was the destruction of the *Galileo*. Perhaps they had miscalculated Planet X's apparent size, or its proximity to either Venus or the Sun. Perhaps there was some technical failure - maybe the engines had been destroyed by stray micrometeorites, or the solar panels had failed to deploy. It was impossible to say. The only thing clear was that the *Galileo* had slipped around the sun three years ago, and never appeared again.\n\nAnd then in December 2017, almost five years later than expected, a blip appeared on radars all across the space monitoring systems of Earth. There was something out there, and it was rapidly coming back to Earth. \n\nImmediate joy quickly turned into bemusement as astronomers realized that not only was the probe not sending any images, but it also failing to respond to override commands. It *had* been damaged, then; not catastrophically enough to render it lost, but it was functionally obsolete. Nations sighed with resignation as they awaited the *Galileo*'s imminent crash through the atmosphere. \n\nBut surprising the world once more, the probe slowed down and spiraled into a shaky orbit around the Earth. It slipped into a position halfway to the moon, and began creeping closer and closer every minute. Within a few hours, it was spitting distance from the International Space Station.\n\nAnd that's when surprise turned to shock. The various greebles that had decorated the hull of the *Galileo*, some functional, like instruments, and some artistic, nods back to the cultures that had helped design the probe, were replaced by completely unrecognizable features. In fact, the entire shape and size of the probe was off. But most importantly, the wording on the probe no longer read *NASA*, *Роскосмос* or *ESA*; they were now completely new, unknown markings with an alphabet no one had ever seen before. The logo of Earth had been replaced by a a picture of a similar green-and-blue planet, one with with alien continents and oceans.\n\nThe *Galileo* may have been truly gone, after all. But it had been replaced by an probe that undoubtedly had come from Planet X itself.\n\n\n \n\n*Liked that? [More stories here](https://www.reddit.com/r/Idreamofdragons/)!* \n\n \n\n______________________________________", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You are able to know exactly what time you will arrive at your destination just as you are leaving. No matter what you do, the prediction is always accurate. Today, as you leave for your 15 minute commute, you sense it will take six days to get there.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "I'd decided a week before, this Monday would be the day. Conny, Miss Hernandez, the chem teacher, was back from her sabbatical and I only had the one class to teach. I knew kids had been shipping us for the last 3 years, and while I'd shrugged it off, it was impossible not to notice she had a crush on me, but I was focused on work.\n\nThen she was gone. I did fine, for a while, but the longer we were apart, the more I realized how much I wanted to see her. I missed chaperoning dances with her, our occasional lunches, her book recommendations. So I decided to ask her out. Here I was, 43, hadn't been on a date since high school, I was freaking out that morning. I knew she'd say yes. But I didn't *know* know it. Ya know? And of course, as everything went wrong this morning, I kept telling myself I was focusing on the negative. That after I asked her, and she said yes, it'd all seem like sunshine and rainbows. At least, until I hopped in my car. I didn't even notice until I was a block and a half from the house. \n\nI have this theory, that everyone gets a mundane superpower, something that is 90% useless. My dad can always tell you the exact number of jellybeans in a container. I had a buddy in college who could make people sneeze with a minute of focus. Me, I always know exactly how long my commute will take. Usually, I got 14 minutes, 56 seconds, give or take a few. This morning, my brain said 6 days, 1 hour, 43 minutes, 12 seconds. I had no idea what was coming. I almost turned around, but I convinced myself it was just my nerves, throwing me off. It wasn't. \n\nAs the news came over the radio, I realized why. That was the day the meteors struck. The day we learned we weren't alone in the universe. My car was hit a couple blocks later, little bugger died on impact. I would've gone home, holed up and hoped for the best, but I got a call. Conny, at the school. She was barricaded in with a few students. She just wanted to make sure I was alright. Wanted to talk to me in person, but wasn't sure they'd make it. I heard a banging sound in the background. Some screaming. Then the line dropped.\n\nI'm sure I'll be too late. They're probably dead. But I have to go, because I have 5 days, 21 hours, 37 minutes, 16 seconds until I get there, and I realized something. As I pulled out of the driveway, I wasn't headed to the school. If that was my goal, I'd make it in 2 hours, 16 minutes, 12 seconds. That wasn't the destination I had in mind. I was headed for Conny. Which means she isn't at the school. I don't know where she is, but I know I'll catch up to her in 5 days, 21 hours, 36 minutes, 47 seconds. I can hardly wait. \n\n\nEdit: updating to say I will be continuing this. Have a few ideas kicking around, but it will be a couple days. Work is busy right now. :(\n\nMore edit: OK, after spending a day off timing all sorts of activities to make things more realistic, I have realized just how much I like this idea. I plan to do this for NaNoWriMo, and am going to post it as it is written on r/alwaysgettingbetter ", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You come across a little Boy who doesn't go insane despite seeing you. An Elder God. With nothing to do for the next ten thousand years, you decide to take the boy in. Today he is one of the most powerful Adventurers and you couldn't be more proud of him.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Dear Augustus,\n\nIt's embarrassing for me to admit, but I'd had a bit too much ambrosia when I met you. Normally my avatar blinds mortal eyes and the weaker minded even pass out. As an elder god I literally cannot restrict my power to be less than that. I've tried so many times because pretending to be a mortal seemed so fun, but it just isn't possible.\n\nAnyways, I'm getting off track. When I met you in a drunken haze I wasn't in my avatar form. You should have died in my true presence. Every other mortal does, but you were different. I still haven't figured out why, but that doesn't really matter does it? My point is, despite being nothing but skin and bones like so many other orphans, you were nothing in the eyes of mortals. But to me, someone I could be myself with, you were a divine treasure.\n\nIf you recall, I offered you a home, but you didn't trust me. Especially after the two guards dropped dead the moment they rounded the corner. You ran off screaming, but you had captured my attention. For years I watched you from up above as you struggled to survive, always with a calm determination in your eyes and a heart so strong it might have been forged from steel.\n\nAnd then... that night happened. I don't want to cause you pain by going into that, but I was so relieved my eyes were not averted. Not only was I able to save you, but you finally chose to join me.\n\nFor years you frolocked in my gardens, eating fruit not meant for mortal lips and even drinking the ambrosia on special occasions. It transformed you, every bone in your body, your senses, and even your mental prowess. It gave you the strength of body and mind to match the strength of heart you always had Watching you grow was the greatest joy in my monotonous eternity.\n\nIt was with a heavy heart I returned you to your world after you kept pleading. It filled me with the same sadness, pride, fear, and hope I'd seen so many other mothers express when their child grows strong and begins to make a life of their own.\n\nYou made me swear not to interfere, and I'm so glad you did. Remember the hydra who's heads kept multiplying? I so desperately wanted to smite the foul creature for threatening you, but then you figured it out. The first person to kill a hydra in over 1,000 years. Since then you've gone on to fight the demons, dragons, undead and so much more.\n\nYou are a hero beyond compare. A legend who will live for time immemorial. But those are mere achievements. I am proud of you for a different reason. You've found your place in the world and have chosen to live both honorably and selflessly. That is a surprisingly rare combination in the worlds of men and gods alike.\n\nAnd I am not the only one who has since taken notice of you. I write this letter to inform you that the gods tribunal has agreed you are worthy. The quorum has been reached and an offer of divinity is to be extended. The gods have seen fit to give you the lesser domain of valor should you wish to join us.\n\nBut between you and me, I think you should refuse. You can be so much more than a mere lesser deity. If you defeat the Demon Lord, I will make sure you are offered the intermediate domains of honor and compassion. Perhaps divinity is not for you and I will respect your wishes, but at the same time, I do miss you. I will always love you, and although I will not interfere, I am always watching over you.\n\nLove,\n\nYour mother, Octavias the elder goddess of Virtue and Love.\n\nP.S. that girl Tabitha is a keeper, if you decide to decline the offers of divinity, she has my blessing.\n\nr/AurumArgenteus", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "You're a new prison guard being shown around by the old man you're replacing. When showing you the last cell in solitary, he says, \"And don't worry about this one, they were here when I started.\" He then opens the viewing slot and you look through to see a young teen who looks no older than 16.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Part 1 \n\n\n\n*New Arcadia*\n\n\n*2623 A.D.*\n\n\n\"Welcome to 'the pit'. If there's a light in this corner of the Milky Way, you're the furthest from it.\"\n\n\n*Jez. What a way to greet someone* John thought.\n\n\n\"Place isn't so bad. We got a compound a way's off from the prison. Just a pit stop for us guards in-between leave and pick up off this godforsaken rock.\" Carlos the prisonguard continued.\n\nJohn followed the man as they explored the prison. He was being given 'the tour' it seemed, most of the prison was automated but by law certain jobs required human hands. For the most part, the prison was much nicer than he expected.\n\n\nMoney was decent, but the benefits were better. The government needed incentives to keep guards at 'the pit' of all places. \n\nThe Pit, as it was called by the staff was a prison colony enclosed in a small biosphere on a hostile world. The worst of the worst were often sent here and if they tried to make a break for it... there was nowhere to run to. The entire planet was unliveable outside the biosphere, and all ships in and out of the prison colony were closely monitored.\n\nTracking chips were inserted into all prisoners, and the guards were all scanned with a variety of bio-verification markers when changing shifts off world. \n\n\nAll in all, it was pretty safe for the human crew. They mostly watched over the bots as the automated drones saw to the basic universal human needs that the government bothered entertaining for their prisoners.\n\n\n\"You start off with nine months here, and the rest of the solar year on leave. Not a bad start. As for the prisoners, just remember everybody is here for a reason. No one gets released, they're here until they die.\" Carlos droned on and on. \n\n\nJohn followed his new coworker down the halls of the prison block; all the rooms were sealed with physical walls as well as a fully powered energy field. Cameras watched the prisoners at all times in their cells, and the guards could inspect them at any time.\n\nNo names. Only nine-digit numbers.\n\n\nJohn peered into the display panels beside the cells. Each prisoner was an enemy of the republic. A traitor to the galactic state. They ranged from old men and women of every economic class, some from Mother Earth herself, and others from the Main Colonies in the core. Most were political prisoners from the most recent civil war, others were old war criminals from the expansion days, and a few were blacklisted with no need to know status. \n\n\nJohn read off some of the crimes on the displays as they passed through the cells. Automated drones drove by, and John stepped aside as Carlos did the same. Tall, with thin but durable mechanical limbs propelled the drones onward. \n\n\nAnother drone emerged and came to a halt before Carlos.\n\n\n\"Unit A7 reporting in,\" the machine chimed.\n\nCarlos groaned and waved his hand saying, \"go on then. What is it this time?\"\n\nThe machine spoke again, the default auto-generated voice coming out of an unseen pair of speakers.\n\n\"Prisoner 000000000 is resisting sustenance again.\"\n\nCarlos swore under his breath. John raised an eyebrow.\n\n\n\"I'll look into it. Continue with your duties, bot,\" Carlos said. \n\n\nThe drone tried to issue its common goodbye, but Carlos shoved passed the thing, and John followed awkwardly. Not sure what to do, he waved at the drone.\n\nThe machine did not respond; it moved on without them.\n\nCarlos led him to the far end of the prison, down to an elevator and into the deepest layer of the compound. The very bottom of the livable space on this prison colony.\n\nJohn frowned as he followed Carlos to a lone cell. Prisoner 000000000 had an entire floor to themselves it seemed. \n\nThe lone cell was the oldest piece of equipment in the entire compound it seemed. There was no display panel, no force field surrounding the physical structure, but the walls themselves were thicker here. Old metal alloy walls that looked like they hadn't been cleaned in decades. \n\nIt was like stepping back in time. As if they were stepping into a museum for prison cells from before the expansion, from before FTL was discovered.\n\nCarlos saw the curious expression on his face, and the old man let out a bark of laughter.\n\n\"And don't worry about this one, they were here when I started. He don't cause any trouble, at worst he throws these tantrums every now and then. Refuses his food.\" Carlos added suddenly.\n\n\nJohn nodded and watched as Carlos banged on the cell walls and slid the viewing slot open.\n\n\"Hey! Prisoner Zero! Frank or whatever your name is today, you gotta eat your food. Don't make us send in the drone again.\" Carlos shouted.\n\nJohn looked inside through what space was available through the viewing slot, and he stared at what he saw.\n\n\nThere in the oldest cell on this godforsaken colony, stood a lone figure sitting in a dirty grey prison uniform. The man was no man at all, but a boy.\n\nNo older than 16. Prisoner 000000000 or 'Prisoner Zero' for short.\n\nWriting littered the walls of his cell, in multiple languages, and save for the bare bones bed the cell was empty. The writings spanned even the floors and ceilings, organized, and neatly done with a handwritten skill that had been lost in this day and age.\n\nPrisoner Zero glanced up at them, pale white skin that was a rarity in the current age of humanity, framed by long dirty blond hair. The boy was thin, with not a scar or mark on him, but his eyes... his eyes were haunted.\n\nEyes that no child should have. The eyes of the elderly.\n\nCarlos banged on the cell door again.\n\n\"You gonna eat your food?\"\n\nPrisoner Zero glanced from Carlos to John, and they both grew silent.\n\n\"... you're new,\" the boy rasped suddenly. A low quiet voice that eeked out a sound like rusted machinery. \n\n\nJohn shifted uncomfortably.\n\n\n\"Eat your food, Zero. Let's not do this again,\" Carlos warned. \n\nThen he closed the viewing slot with an audible thud, and the meeting was over. They continued the rest of the tour, but John couldn't get the eyes out of his head. \n\nPrisoner Zero... \n\n-------\n\n\n[Part 2a](https://old.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/9p814y/wpyoure_a_new_prison_guard_being_shown_around_by/e81fe0j/)\n\n\n[Part 2b](https://old.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/9p814y/wpyoure_a_new_prison_guard_being_shown_around_by/e81fit6/)\n\n\n[Part 3A and 3B](https://old.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/9p814y/wpyoure_a_new_prison_guard_being_shown_around_by/e84df3c/)", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " A new friend invites you over for a cup of the most delicious tea you’ve ever had. You wake up in a palatial room, attended by a knight in gilded armour, who says, “After centuries of searching, we finally found you.”", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"I'm sorry, who are you? Where am I? Why am I here?\" \n\nI move up from my seat. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was afraid that my wrists would be cuffed or something, but they weren't. But I was in some sort of gown or bathrobe. Naked underneath.\n\n\"And what happened to my clothes?\"\n\nThe knight did not take off his helmet. He moved a bit stiffly, maybe from age or the weight of armor. It wasn't completely spotless though. It was worn and old, it didn't take the eye of a smith to see that. A patchjob, but remarkably well done. He probably could have had that suit replaced, but hasn't.\n\n\"The news I have for you won't be easy to take in. So you might want to stay seated for this. The poison hasn't left your system yet. Take it easy, please.\"\n\n\"Poison? What poison?\"\n\n\"_Please_, relax. The poison did a number on your heart. It's a miracle in and on itself that we're having this conversation.\" He seemed urgent and legitimately concerned as he could be with a voice that deep and hollow. I took a deep breath.\n\n\"Okay. I'm as calm as I can be.\"\n\n\"That's alright. There's water on the nightstand. If you feel like you need a drink, take it.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I'll pass. Last time I drank I tea I ended up here for some reason.\"\n\n\"Good call. I suppose your wits are about by now. You're ready to hear what happened.\"\n\n\"Sure, enlighten me.\"\n\n\"The woman who you thought served you tea is dead. Killed by a doppelganger. I am sorry.\"\n\n\"What? Bethany? How?\"\n\n\"Doppelgangers can weasel their way into communities quite easily by stalking their targets and impersonating them, learning their mannerisms. You never spoke to Bethany. The doppelganger picked her to impersonate because you liked her. We found her body buried just beyond the tree line at the graveyard.\"\n\n\"But why me? She didn't have to die over _me_.\"\n\n\"If we had known, we would have stopped it. But we were too late.\"\n\n\"She never really did care about me, did she?\"\n\n\"I...cannot pretend to have known her.\"\n\n\"Just for once, I thought someone _chose_ to give a damn. Someone _I_ wanted to care about. I know it's selfish, but... fuck...\"\n\nThe knight did not respond at first, he just looked at me. I could see the pity in his body language. I hate being pitied. Beth dead because I liked her.\n\n\"But why? Why me?\"\n\n\"Desperate times call for desperate measures. You must understand, there are larger forces than either of us at play. There is a legend of old. A story from which all other stories were born.\"\n\n\"The Mythos of the Three?\"\n\n\"Yes. The Mythos has split into many different stories and develops further every day. Me and my companions have studied it for literal centuries, trying to see where it ends. And it ends with you.\"\n\n\"The Mythos _ends_...with me.\"\n\n\"Apparently so. Unless you die, perhaps.\"\n\n\"But if the Mythos ends, what happens then?\"\n\n\"Some fear the end of everything we know. It might all end in fire and war, or perhaps everything will simply cease to exist. You are a focal point in this whole thing. Reality bends around you to accommodate you.\"\n\n\"This has to be a mistake. I'm a nobody. I can't _do_ anything, I barely know how to cook.\"\n\n\"You have been well by the Fates, but not well enough. But now you've been brought into the light of all who would write history. Save the world. Another innocent soul, lost, and no one would understand why. That's why we brought you here. To find out _why_ it was you that was chosen. And in time, to teach you how to harness your abilities.\"\n\n\"I have none.\"\n\n\"You are so much more capable than you think, but have not started to discover this.\"\n\nThe knight rose from his seat, and walked up to me.\n\n\"And that is where I come in.\"\n\n\"Wait. The, the doppelganger, that got Bethany? What happened to...it?\"\n\n\"They will never lay hands on anyone ever again. You have my word.\"\n\n\"And the people that sent it?\"\n\n\"Are why we must teach you what you are capable of. There will be others. You must be ready. It will be a long road, and a hard one. But one day, you'll look back on this day and realize that your life did not begin when you were born. It began today. Right here. With us.\"\n\nHe extended his hand.\n\n\"One hell of a speech, sir.\" I said as I took it.\n\n\"I have been told I talk too much.\"\n\n\"You've got a good voice for it, though.\"\n\n\"I've been told that too. Get used to it, you'll be hearing it a lot. Let's get you properly dressed and ready to meet the others. They can't wait to meet the Chosen One.\"", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Earth is invaded by an advanced alien race. All of humanity's attempts to defend itself have failed, that is until the Amish finally decide to become directly involved.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "They showed up without a word, without our having ever asked, or even thought to ask. \n\nWe had shielded them, we thought, from the fighting, from the destruction. The Uldert had swarmed upon us like locusts, and we'd barely been able to slow them down. Colony after colony was lost. Until the Amish joined the fight.\n\nThe first Amish who joined the war were from the colonies. No one put it together until later, but nearly all the colonies with high refugee survival rates had been colonies with Amish populations. They'd gone off world in surprising numbers, hundreds of years ago. They said that out there was land where they could live free, practice their ways in peace, and help other survive and find purpose in building something for themselves. \n\nWithin a year, there were half a million Amish, then a few million, standing by our sides, usually in the very front, shielding us. \n\nToday, I lead a battalion of a few thousand men and women, nearly a quarter of whom are Amish \"Farmers\". They eat with us, but their tents are separate. They lead us in prayer, most mornings, those of us that pray. They don't seem to mind the symbol of Odin on my hand, or the Crescent Moon on my second in command, though they were surprised the first time we joined them for the morning prayer. \n\nAs dawn breaches the sky, I give the nod to Sal, and he quietly issues the order to march. We've been given the honor of striking behind enemy lines, at one of the royalty of the Uldert. I feel a tingle as the enemy sensors pass over us, unaware of our presence. A patrol moves past, the timing perfect for us to sneak by. \n\nIt's been this way for years now, but my muscles still tense as they pass. I remember all too well the days when the mandible helmets would swivel right toward us, and we'd lose half a squadron in a minute. \n\nI asked the Amish elder, John, in my battalion once what is is they did to make things go our way like this, and he'd just smiled, said in the archaic English of his people, \"It is Providence, my friend. Nothing more, nothing less.\" \n\nProvidence. Ok, fine, keep your secrets, as long as it works. \n\nWe crawl and climb over the rocky terrain, north toward the back of the enemy command building. We gather and wait for the signal. John said last night that the sky would give a sign when it was time to strike. \n\nAbove us, the sky is suddenly full of fire. Our warships have arrived in an open space in the defensive orbital perimeter, and we can see the Uldert ships moving to meet them. I look to John, and he shakes his head. Not yet. Nervous, I shift and check my rifle, look around at my soldiers, nod reassurance as needed. They don't like waiting any more than I do. \n\nThe Amish are calm, stoic. Like they know how this plays out. Maybe they do. \n\nA second flash illuminates the sky, a rain of meteorological debris? No, Jesus wept, that's a comet! The probability of a comet coming right now, undetected by the superior Uldert sensors...impossible! Only at such a moment, under attack by a surprise force that shouldn't have had a clear space to warp into so close to the planet, could such a thing be vaguely plausible, and even then...\n\nI look at Elder John, and see tears in his eyes. He looks back, sighs. \"Providence is not always kind.\" The other Amish recite a quick prayer for the dead in their nearly dead language, and we move, as Uldert warships get caught in the wave of the comet's passing, and fall to the planet below. \n\nThe rest of the mission is like a dream for me, we sweep in, finding a guard door just as a soldier comes out of it, and Smith, one of my techs, disappears inside. A moment later, the security defense grid is down. We have 15 minutes. Most of the battalion is in position around the building. John, Sal, and I lead the forward team. We enter the building, and walk quickly in seemingly random directions, taking turns when it feels right, as we've all learned to do when the Amish are with us. \n\nIn moments, we have reached the central command room. We burst in, guns hot, and find that only command personnel are there, with 1 actual soldier. And not 1, as we'd thought, but 5 Uldert royals, standing a full 3 feet above their lessers. \n\nThe royal family had changed their plans from when our spies last made contact, and chosen to inspect this base, and check on their offspring. \n\nI tried not to think about the odds. Or the possibility that we had just won the war, in a mission that we had thought would be a significant blow, at most. \n\nA young Amish woman, Ruth, walked up to me, bolder than her kin normally were, and kissed me. \"Providence, commander.\" I couldn't grok that right then, so I just kiss her back, hope her kinfolk don't get mad. \n\nFuckin' Providence. Son of a bitch. ", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Your new sci-fi series is a big hit. Everyone loves the hilariously bad special effects and low effort alien costumes. A big award show is coming up for you and the crew. Now you just have to make sure, no one finds out everything is actually very real.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "I walked in front of the set. It looked like a futuristic living room. The type of place that looked both space-age and yet familiar. The crowd cheered as I turned to face them, no doubt thinking I was a cast member. \n\n'Quiet down.' I said after enjoying a few of the wolf whistles. 'Let's get the boring parts out of the way. Have you all signed the NDA?' \n\nLike a panel of judges, the crowd raised white sheets above their heads. \n\n'Great. My assistant will collect them while I go over the format of this evening.' I said. 'Oh and if anyone has a problem with the agreement, or has not signed them, now is your time to leave.' \n\nThe crowd remained still, apart from the few that swung around to see if anyone wanted to leave. I snapped my fingers and Harrold scuttled to the first outstretched piece of paper. \n\nWhile Harrold scanned each document for the three necessary signatures, I continued my spiel - which came out like an overused dinner party story. 'You have all been personally selected for your unbiased and unique taste in television. None of you know what you are here to see. Is that correct?'\n\nI knew the answer already, but audience participation was a good way of getting their blood flowing. Some nodded, raised a hand, grunted, and the bold few shouted \"YES\". \n\n'That's good. You the lucky group who get to experience the next smash hit. Now, you won't be able to tell your loved ones or friends about this incredible experience. But once the show airs you can shout and scream about how it is your laughs in the background.' \n\nHarrold ran up to me with a wad of paper gripped in his freckled fingers. 'All signed.' \n\n'Great folks. That's the boring part out of the way. Now for the exciting part!' I said and moved to the side.\n\n---\n\nThe show lasted thirty minutes, a standard for comedies. I had a good feeling by the end of the episode because the audience had laughed, and they had laughed not only during the televised cues. \n\nThe cameras red lights dimmed, and we wrapped the recording. I walked back in front of the audience. \n\n'I really hope you enjoyed the episode.' I paused for the few cheers. 'I think you should get to meet the actors personally!' \n\nThe crowd went wild, and the cast emerged from their various hiding spots, still in their *costumes*. The actors bowed their two heads, wiped fake tears with their tentacles and even performed a dance.\n\n'Can everyone please *give a hand* to our talented performers.' I said, and the bloodbath commenced. \n\nThe actors launched forward, diving into the crowd. People screamed - with excitement to begin with and then fear.\n\n'Shred the NDAs.' I said.\n\n---\n\n/r/WrittenThought", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " Every species in the galaxy is assigned a danger level, between 1 and 10. Level 1 are species that cannot hurt you and would not try to hurt you. Level 10 are species that can rip you apart at the slightest provocation. Humans are a level 11 species.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"Humans are the only species in existence to break the traditionally know Limit of Violence, being the only Class 11 race\" I began, lecturing my Intergalactic Biology 101 class. \"However, physically speaking, they are generally as strong as a Class 6 to Class 8, depending on personal preference of lifestyle, and several *behave* as if they were Class 1.\" Several thoughtful looks formed among my students, always a good sign. \"Is anyone able to tell me why Humans are Class 11?\" \n\nNo one was immediately ready to answer the question, which was again a good sign. It means they are thinking and carefully processing. \n\n\"Is it because of their various styles of combat?\" Toyg, one of my Relintian students, asked. \n\nI shook my head. \"No, but that is a good guess. If it were that, and every human partook in combat training, they would be Class 8, probably 9 if you factored their military armaments. No, it's because of something their bodies produce, chemical compound C9H13NO3. Can anyone tell me what that is ?\" Good, the spark of realization in their eyes. \n\nFendo, another of my Relintian students, raised a padded tentacle slowly, which I of course gestured to. \"It's called *adrenaline*, and is a highly expensive drug used by most races to artificially boost their Limit of Violence by a factor of *four*...\" Fendo started to trail off, understandably so. \n\n\"That is correct, Fendo,\" I answered, nodding to his direction. Cracking my sore back against my chair, I continued. \"Humans produce this substance naturally, but the most surprising aspect about adrenaline is that nearly every animal that I can think of from Earth also produces this compound. Most omnivores and carnivores of the planet would place Class 11 if they had the same intellect as Humanity.\" \n\nEvery year I wait for this day, just to see the scared look on my students faces. \n\n\"Professor Henderson... sir?\" Ogetu, I think that was. Insect-like species she is, easily from one of the most powerful species present. \n\n\"Yes,\" I started, already answering the question, \"I naturally produce adrenaline.\" God I love teaching here.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You are a doctor. You saved the life of a child who was near-death and not expected to recover. Thirty years later, that child now rules much of the world.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "When I stare at a heart I try not to think of all the symbolism they bashed me with in my youth. There, upon the table, is an organ which is like any other. It brings life, yes, but so do the lungs and brains, and the skin and the liver. \n\n\nYet no one talks so about those organs. Always the heart. The heart harbors man. As though our very beings belong there. I have stared at some hearts in my time. I have seen that life pulse spasm beneath the cold light of surgery. The heart is as any organ. No love is held there. No being or symbols. It is but an organ.\n\n\nBut love does exist.\n\n\nWe have been under the Little Doc regime for ten years now. The last of the western world had capitulated fully about three years ago. There was a great explosion so far away, somewhere on the western coasts, and then the white flags had flown in fear. Little Doc had won the war then. \n\n\nOf course he is not little anymore. Duvall is in his twenties and a man by any reckon, and a monster by most. He lives like Genghis Khan with his Golden Horde of trained men, fanatics who believe they have some divine right to rule this world. Fanatics who had the right weapons to do so.\n\n\nLittle Doc has ascended and now we live in a different time. Globalization has stopped its outward crawl, its colonization of the Earth's corners, and now the supply trains come inwards into the Americas as Little Doc eats his fill of the world.\n\n\nMuch has changed. Here in the Indies the seas roar in the silence. You can hear the crackle of faint electricity. Power lines drop from disuse, and in the dark we live in shells as we look to the lights of the military camps. As we listen to the screams of abuse and pain.\n\n\nHumans all have a heart. But love is scarce.\n\n\nIt had to be two years ago. America still fought. That was a country with a heart. But its pulse died beneath war's clinical surgery, and it suffered as it fell. That was when Little Doc was under stress. That was when he was not the God his propaganda had claimed him to be. He became unwell.\n\n\nI had treated him as a boy when he lived in Haiti. I had lived there for some years and remember him well. He spoke more French than Creole, but his accent was so local, something so vibrant that made you think he would turn things around for his country. I remember him running around the waiting room, and then how he cried when I gave the news to his mother.\n\n\nHe needed a bypass or else he would die. \n\n\nThat was so long ago but I had kept him in my thoughts. I was in his it seemed.\n\n\nTwo years ago then, his men found me. I lived in Tobago beneath the shadow of the forests, hoping my family and I could be spared the war. \n\n\nBut he found me.\n\n\nI remember the guns and the Eastern accents of Russian men and men who thought themselves the new steppe people. Men who were fair with green eyes that glinted in the sun. Their faces were gentle but they brought nothing but pain upon me. \n\n\nMy wife was screaming. I was on a plane and I imagined her alone back in Tobago. What would they do to her? Why was I being brought to Little Doc Duvall?\n\n\nHe had a palace in Mexico. He had grown fat, and he is even fatter now. He was ailing. I could see that immediately. He was dying. He needed a doctor, and I was the only one whom he could trust.\n\n\nLittle Doc spoke perfect English. He had left everything from Haiti behind. Now he was a man of the world, a man who owned the world. He was so fat that I thought he personified *greed* and *sloth*.\n\n\n\"My old friend. You helped me once.\"\n\n\n\"Yes, President, sir.\"\n\n\nHe liked that. I was afraid. He was the President for Life of the World. Such a title!\n\n\n\"I need your help once more. I need you to have the honor to help *me*.\"\n\n\nIn his palace the lights were red and his clothes were striped and in shadows. His face was round so his eyes were small black beads also in shadows. I stood surrounded by fierce men with guns, men of all colors who would die for their Little Doc.\n\n\n\"I... I will try,\" I said.\n\n\n\"You have a good heart,\" he said. \"But I don't, as you know.\"\n\n\n\"I... Perhaps I can make it better.\"\n\n\n\"You misunderstand Doctor Paul. Do you know, I also am a Doctor?\"\n\n\n\"Yes... You are Little Doc.\"\n\n\nHe laughed.\n\n\n\"Yes! That is what they call me! I am Little Doc! I know things of the heart too. I know how it works. How it makes men do the things they do. I can also teach you a thing or two, Doctor Paul.\"\n\n\n\"Anything, President, sir.\"\n\n\nHe stared me up and down.\n\n\n\"I can teach you a hard lesson of the heart. One that you haven't learned back on the island.\"\n\n\n\"What's that, sir?\"\n\n\nHe had a faraway look. He was remembering something. For a man like him, anything not concerning the future took an effort to materialize. His eyes met mines.\n\n\n\"When I was a boy, you had a lady in your waiting room. Not the receptionist. A little fair skin girl. She wasn't from Haiti. She was from Trinidad, I think.\"\n\n\nMy heart sunk as though it was stone.\n\n\n*Just an organ,* I think as I think back. \n\n\nBut it isn't. Sometimes it isn't.\n\n\n\"Kara? That was my girlfriend at the time. She was studying there too.\"\n\n\nLittle Doc laughed.\n\n\n\"Is she still your girlfriend?\"\n\n\n\"No... No she is... We've been married.\"\n\n\nHe knew that already. He knew so much of me I could tell from his eyes. He was laughing with them. His heart held no love.\n\n\n\"I will teach you something of the heart,\" he said. \"Only because I like you, Doctor Paul. I will teach how *kind* a heart can be, and how *ruthless* it can also be.\"\n\n\n\"I don't...\"\n\n\n\"I know you don't! But if you are to touch *my* heart, you will *know*. You will know the great responsibility you have. You will know the *honor* that I do you, and the *mercy* I show. And you will see the *pain* your heart shall bring you.\"\n\n\n\"I don't understand...\"\n\n\n\"You will operate on me, Doctor Paul, and know that your wife's life is on the line. You will operate on me and know that she will only be safe so long as I live. You will operate on me and you shall remain my doctor. You shall treat me and me only as your Kara thinks you dead. And you shall do this for the rest of your life or else live with the grief knowing your love will be my *revenge*.\"\n\n\nSilence. I remember the loss of words to match the loss of my world.\n\n\n\"And I shall show you mercy by allowing her to live.\"\n\n\nHe smiled. Little Doc Duvall was some devil in the light, his shadow both bigger than himself and somehow dwarfed by his immense size. Only in his twenties, and yet a lumbering monster.\n\n\nThe surgery went well. I allowed him to live. I allowed the madness to continue, as I allow it now.\n\n\nHe breathes through tubes as he barks orders with a sickly voice. The world suffers as he squeezes all wealth and prosperity from every pore of humanity. His Golden Horde grows fat as they enslave this world as we know it.\n\n\nAnd it is all held together by Little Doc Duvall. \n\n\nI can end it. I can end it so easily. One injection, one quick cut and it will all fall apart. Simple neglect might do the trick. He is an obese man whose life teeters in the balance. A gentle push can prove fatal.\n\n\nI tell myself the heart is but an organ. Little Doc confirms as much.\n\n\nBut yet my own heart years and tears itself at thoughts that keep me awake at night. I cry and tremble and think of my love. I think of Kara back on the island, a prisoner like the rest, but perhaps safe and protected.\n\n\nI see pictures of her to fuel my cooperation. I see her face in my sleep that feeds my fears. I can end this all and save so much suffering. I can bring mercy upon this world.\n\n\nIf only the heart was but an organ. If only I could make the right decision.\n\n\n-\n\n\n*Hi there! If you liked this story, then you might want to consider checking out my subreddit, r/PanMan. It has all my WP stories, including some un-prompted ones. Check it out if you can, and thanks for the support!*", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " A brilliant scientist is found dead in their lab. Their lab notes simply state \"Please do not disturb my body, the experiment would be irrevocably ruined.\"", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The laboratory sat still. Beakers and vials, all filled with an assortment of colors, lined the shelves. On the floor lay Dr. Amadeus, face down into a pool of some unknown material. At first glance, it looked like blood. But you could not see through blood, and be able to make out the floor tiles beneath it in the same way as this allowed. \n\nDr. Amadeus wore a pristine lab coat, untouched by the red liquid that pooled around him. Glass shards lay around him, making islands in the translucent, red pool. Whatever had happened here, it had come suddenly.\n\nMost curiously though was the note on the door of the on the outside for any that entered. It was simple and offered no explanation, but left a singular order: \"Please do not disturb my body, the experiment would be irrevocably ruined.\"\n\nWhen the man's lab assistants entered, the two had the note in hand. Fear gripped them, the note's message pounded at their minds. \n\nThey darted across the room, to his collapsed body, as soon as they had seen it. It felt as if Dr. Amadeus, from some realm beyond the living, watched as they did so. Neither were willing to touch the body, though both were frightened out of their wits. Did they follow the man's vision, and risk letting him die? Or were they to try and save him at the cost of the experiment? \n\nThe resulting fight over it turned to shouting. \n\n\"We have to do something!\" \n\n\"But he said not to, don't you trust him?\"\n\n\"He clearly attempted suicide, we can't let him die!\"\n\n\"But what if he's safe now and we kill him?\"\n\nThe man arguing to intervene pushed the woman that wanted to follow the doctor's orders. He lunged for the body. She pulled back, and in minutes the two were on each other as they fought over what to do. \n\nSomeone fell into the man's body, knocking him out of the pool of blood. There was a crack of thunder. The woman let out a scream, and her body twisted in agony. The man backed away, scrambling across the floor.\n\nShe stopped screaming, and looked down at her body. The woman's head turned back to the remaining lab assistant. \n\n\"Bugger it all, I came back to the wrong body. Didn't you read the note?\"", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " He has been blind all his life. Now, he is the first recipient of new technology that will grant him sight. When he opens his eyes, the doctors ask if he can see them. He says “Yes, but who are they?” and points across the room at no one.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "\"Yes, but who are they?\"\n\nThe twelve doctors simultaneously twisted, looking over their shoulder with keen interest. Nothing was there so they swivelled back. One doctor clicked a pen thoughtfully, another one scribbled on a clipboard. The youngest doctor, Dr. Harold, raised an eyebrow and scooted closer.\n\n\"Do you mean us?\"\n\nThe patient shook his head and instead stared at the back corner of the room. \"No, them.\"\n\nTwelve heads again twisted backwards and then twisted back. Murmurs started drifting amongst the doctors.\n\n\"Possible double vision?\"\n\n\"Maybe difficulties with seeing in shadows.\"\n\n\"The fact he can see anything after being on the medication for only a week is pretty remarkable.\"\n\nThe patient shook his head in confusion. \"I am telling you, there are people back there. Moving.\" Again, twelve heads swivelled back and then forth.\n\nA doctor tugged at his mustache. \"Maybe he needs glasses?\" The murmurs started up again.\n\nDr. Harold remained quiet, though he took another peek behind his shoulder. Nothing was there. He gently tapped the patient's hand and waited until the watery eyes focused unsteadily upon his. He pulled out a small light. \"Can you look at my left ear? I am going to look at your eyes.\"\n\nThe young doctor tried to ignore the speculating men around him, and instead ran through a few tests, checking for responsiveness of the once blind man's eyes. Eyes that kept drifting towards the back corner of the room.\n\nDr. Harold diligently marked his notes, pleased at the results thus far. A handful of doctors got up and moved to the hallway, filled with good hearted chatting and an occasional slap of the back. The room got considerably more empty. Dr. Harold glanced back at the patient's eyes, which were slowly widening, looked at his notes and then frowned. He pulled out the pen light. \"Look at my left ear again?\"\n\nAs the light swept across the eyes, Dr. Harold saw shadows moving within the eyes as if something was behind him. He froze, and then quickly turned around. Besides a few doctors at the doorway, he was alone. He tsked, and turned back to the patient. As the light again shined on the patient's eyes, Dr. Harold saw the shadows once more. Leaning closer, he saw what was a dozen human like silhouettes dance across the cornea.\n\nThe patient shuddered and covered his eyes with his hands. \"They are coming closer.\"\n\nThe doctor slowly pulled one of the hands down, and stared in fascination as a blurry faced gazed back from the depth of the once blind man's eye.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "An ancient dragon sleeps in its cave expecting to only be woken by thieves or would be heroes, what it doesn’t expect is a child pleading for help", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Eza was told stories by her mother about the dark cave in the mountains, about the adventures who dared steal the from the dragons horde, only to have there bones and armor become apart of it.\n\nHer village lived in dread of that damned cave, but Eza was always fascinated by it. Many a villager caught her staring at the cave like an astronomer stared at the stars. Perhaps she would have grown out of it. Fate didn't let any one find out.\n\nOne night her mother got in a scuffle with an adventure passing by. Unfortunately said adventure was the son of a noble and the family demanded blood. Eza watched her fellow villagers tie her mother down, to offer her up in sacrifice to spare themselves the Nobles wrath. What could a little girl do to save her mother but wake the dragon.\n\nThe dragon awoke to the child's pledes and cries, he acted not out of kindness but of hunger, out of greed. He knew that nobles brought gold with them were ever they went and waited for counts men to arrive, killing them all with claws and poisoned breath to spare their silks and metals for him to add to his horde.\n\nBy then the mother was already killed and Eza was an orphan. Even if the villagers would accept her, she could no longer return to the people who sacrificed her mother so she stayed in the cave with the dragon. \n\nAt the dragons only interactions with the child would be seeing her eat the scraps off his meals, but eventually he would let her rummage through his horde. What was she to do, take it back to her home.\n\nBut after awhile he helped her around, as she grew older she learned the dragons tongue, and the dragons for the first time in centuries could speak to one who could speak back. To tell stories that one could actually listen to. To be heard and not feared is a feeling easily forgotten by the mind but not the heart.\n\nIn time Eza learned how to use the various magical trinkets in her dragons cave, by the time she was a maiden she had also became a witch famous for leaving the cave in search of gold and treasure to bring back to her adopted father.\n\nAs time went on she grew old and the dragon did not, soon she became to frail to leave the cave, to old to move. In the coming years the poor dragon would lose his partner to time itself.\n\nIf ye merchants were to learn that dragons tongue and ask the most valuable thing in his horde of treasure and jewels,he would nearly look over to the skeleton sitting on throne and speak of his valuable partner and the memories of her life. What he doesn't realize the most valuable thing in the horde is the rarest substance on earth. The tears of a dragon.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " As a devout Christian you were devastated when the rapture came and you were one of the ones left behind, but you settled on that he just forgot. Now there are beasts bowing to you and one says “how may we serve you Master” you realize they think you’re the anti-Christ.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "“Master!” hissed the tiny red demon as it followed me down the hill. “Please, let me serve!” \n\n“Haha, no, that’s okay,” I replied awkwardly. “Thank you, though.” I hiked my laundry basket up under my arm and sped up.\n\nThe tiny demon hissed again, then fled, its arms and legs flapping wildly. \n\nSighing, I continued my way to the river. One of the worst things about the Rapture—not counting the utter and total desertion by my once Lord and Savior Jesus Christ—was the total shutdown of laundry machines. Well, I guess that’s more of a general infrastructure problem. Regardless, now I had to go down to the river to wash my clothes, which totally sucked. \n\n*Something to be thankful for,* I thought to myself as I knelt down by the river bank. *What am I thankful for today?*\n\nMy favourite brand of laundry detergent never ran out. That was something, I guess. \n\nI sighed again, then poured a cup of the detergent into my laundry basket. \n\n“Master!” cried a lovely voice in front of me. “Master, please, let us serve.” \n\n“Yes, Master! The Sirens will serve you, in any shape or manner you desire!” \n\n“We’ll let you do anything to us, Master!”\n\nDeep breaths. In, and out. \n\n“Thank you, but no,” I said, trying to smile. “I appreciate the offer.” I kept my eyes squarely down onto my boring laundry basket. Looking at the Sirens was an easy trip down temptation street, and that was not my *modus operandi*, no sir. I still considered myself a Christian, even though Christ himself had abandoned me. \n\nI heard a ripple of water as the Sirens approached. A long, pale curved arm stretched out, stroking my knee.\n\n“Master?” said the Siren softly. “You are the Prince of Hell, the Bane of Heaven, the Anti-Christ himself. Why do you resist your destiny?”\n\nI stiffly got up with my laundry basket—eyes still on the ground—and went to another part of the bank. I roughly mixed up the detergent into my clothes, like I was tossing a salad.\n\nA moment of silence, then ripples of water followed me.\n\n“Master?” \n\n“Nope,” I said, mashing up my clothes. “Not here. Not me. You got the wrong guy.” \n\nA ripple in the water that suggested the Sirens looked at one another.\n\n“You may deceive yourself, Master, but us hellspawn can see the truth. You bear the foretold mark of the Anti-Christ. It blazes above your head like a falling star. You will lead the armies of Hell against the minions of Heaven in a great, world-altering battle!” \n\n“Nope, nope, nope.” I start punching down my clothes. \n\n“Master, not even you can deny Fate. In seven years, Christ will descend to the Earth with Heaven at his back, and you must be ready to meet him.\"\n\nI shook my head tightly. I was beating my clothes now.\n\n\"But, Master—\"\n\n“Enough!” I shouted, snapping my head up. The three Sirens were staring at me, wide-eyed and gorgeous, but it barely registered in my fuming mind. My teeth were clenched so tight I thought they’d break. “I’ve had enough of this Anti-Christ business! I’m not him, so leave me alone, or I swear to God, I’ll… I’ll…” \n\nI broke off suddenly, my anger evaporating as quick as it came. Where had that come from? I was always an even-keel person pre-Rapture. That’s why I had joined the clergy, hoping to become a priest. I thought I had the temperament for such a thing. \n\n“Sorry,” I muttered, blushing. “That was wrong of me.”\n\n“No!” said the Siren in the middle, shaking her head. I pointedly did not look at her chest, which was distractingly wet and also bare. “That was… amazing.” \n\nI took a closer look at the Sirens. Thankfully, they didn’t seem hurt. Unfortunately, they looked very aroused. \n\nI couldn’t deal with this right now. “Can I just finish my laundry in peace?” I asked, weary. \n\n“Yes, Master,” the Sirens whispered, eyes flashing. They dipped under the water and were gone. \n\n*Something to be thankful for*, I thought, as I flooded my basket under the river and began stirring it with a stick laying nearby. *What is something to be thankful for?* \n\nI looked up, wiping my sweaty forehead with an arm, as the sun began to set. It fell perfectly between the gap of two tall buildings, illuminating the river with a fiery glow. I could hear the cries of demons flying overhead. It added a strangely nice melody to the stunning view. \n\nI smiled, and went back to doing my laundry.\n\n---\ncheck out my profile for more stories :)", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You live in a world where super powers are real, and unfortunately also scientifically accurate. Have super speed? Create sonic booms, blow out people eardrums, and have devastating effects on the environment. Can stop time? Now you can't see, breathe, or hear when time is stopped.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "Heroes once only belonged on the cover of comic books. Then, the first case of Mutation Y hit. Since then, a select few individuals were giving amazing powers, abilities beyond the realm science could understand. And while some turned against their fellow men, believing themselves superior, a select few vowed to use their powers to protect the innocent and weak. They call themselves the Y-Men.\n\n---\n\nJacob Friar waited in line at the local Wally-Mart. He had wanted chewing gum, but didn't think it would be a twenty minute ordeal. The lady at the cashier pushed her glasses back up and with bony fingers, she nudged another item across the scanner. \n\nBeep.\n\nEven the man at the front had his credit card outstretched ready to swipe as soon as the lady finished, which might be another ten minutes at this rate. Jacob grumbled. He hated waiting, especially as the fastest man alive. While Mutation Y had given some of his friends only elevated human abilities, it had gifted him with speed thought impossible by the human body. The only problem was that his power proved too great. A single sprint to break the sound barrier and everyone within a thirty foot radius would reel over with ruptured eardrums.\n\nBut he knew that one day, he would get his chance to prove his heroism and redeem himself for any previously ruptured eardrum.\n\nA shriek pierced the air. Jacob looked up as a hooded man sprinted out the grocery store. A woman ran after him pointing, \"someone help! He stole my purse. Someone call a hero!\"\n\nJacob's eyes widened. This was his chance. A smile touched his lips and he tore through the buttons on his shirt to reveal a red lightning bolt plastered onto his spandex costume. Already, he could feel time slowing. His heart thumped in deep percussive tones.\n\n\"The hero's here!\" another man shouted in jubilation and a blur of green dashed past Jacob.\n\n\"That's The Speedster!\" someone yelled, \"his mutation lets him run slightly faster than average!\"\n\nAnd faster than average The Speedster ran, closing the gap between him and the robber who ran slightly slower than average.\n\n\"Thank you brave hero,\" the woman who had her purse snatched called after him.\n\nThe thief looked back and gritted his teeth. Of all the heroes to protect this Wally-Mart, it had to be The Speedster! He juked to his left between the aisle for feminine products and mouthwash. But it was no use, The Speedster was too fast. Well... not incredibly fast, but fast enough.\n\n\"Take this, Speedster!\" the robber yelled and pushed a shopping cart in The Speedster's way.\n\n\"No, Speedster, watch out!\" A child warned.\n\nBut The Speedster wasn't the protector of Wally-Mart for nothing. He dodged to the left, barely missing a step.\n\n\"Look at those reflexes!\"\n\n\"Is that also because of his powers?\"\n\n\"No, I think his reflexes are just naturally above average!\"\n\nIn mere minutes, he completely caught up to the thief and grabbed the man's shoulder. He ground his heels into the ground and dragged the man down. There, both he and the robber took heaving breaths as they tried to regain what little stamina they had left.\n\nThe damsel in distress walked up to them. \"Thank you Speedster,\" she said. \"How can I ever repay you?\"\n\n\"Just a day's\"--The Speedster gasped for air--\"a day's work ma'am.\" And he smiled a hero's smile.\n\nJacob watched in awe and rebuttoned his shirt. One day, he hoped to be as great a hero.\n\n\n\n\n\n", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You work on rehabilitating birds of prey, from hawks to eagles and owls you thought you had already saved a member of every species in your local area at least once. Then one night after a storm you find a huge bird the size of a small plane, cackling with lightning and obviously injured", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "A flash of bright daylight followed by sudden darkness, some might say is a charactistic of lightning alone. Yet they are wrong, for George's short existence began and ended in the same manner. \n\nI found him on an open field, belly up, and panting. His heart beats were the thudding of a drummer at war. But in his eyes, I witnessed a yearning for peace. I could tell when I met him, that despite his size, despite the sharpness of his bill and talons, inside him lived no beast. He yearned for calm; for the end of his suffering.\n\nUnfortunately I was in no sober state to rationalize George's existence - on the farmstead one over from my own, I had spent the evening drinking with an old friend. My senses were dull, and blunted further by the thunderstorm overhead.\n\nBut I suppose from experience, I knew his day had come -I have had to put down many a dying animal. But never one as enormous. What does one do with a life larger than one's own? \n\n\"His neck is the length of my truck and about half as wide\", I thought with with resignation. Then it came to me - my truck. I have the perfect neck snapping device to end George's suffering. \n\nI sped home to fetch rope, all the while listening to the thudding of his heart, or perhaps my own. The dirt roads had turned to mud by then, yet I did not care. George's size amplified the suffering I perceived, which hastened my delivery. \n\nOnce back with George, I noticed his eyes had opened somewhat in pain and fear, and I felt reassured of the fate I had elected for him. I climbed his neck with rope in hand, sliding to the wet grass on the other side with a thud. I could not loop the rope underneath due to its weight. But through his ear canals I could see straight to the other side. So I climbed through, rope in tow, tied it at the other end, and got back into my truck. \n\nBy now, George smelled of turmoil, his breathing was the sound of distant screams. I shifted into gear and accelerated forward at full speed. After a few meters, I felt a snap. Behind me, life poured from the opening and I knew I had succeeded. \n\nDrunkenly, I returned home, and by morning I had all about forgotten my past evening operation. Until I turned on the television during breakfast...\n\n\"Last night, a private jet crash landed over Arkansas. Fortunately, a mysterious farmer came to the rescue. By removing the cockpit from the front end with nothing but a rope and his truck, he freed and rescued the lives of all nine passengers on board just as flames engulfed the wreckage\".", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You are a princess that's been kidnapped the night before her arranged marriage. Upon arriving at its lair, however, you find out that not only can she assume a mostly-human form, but that form is really hot. Now you're trying to get your parents to let you marry the dragon.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The dragon had asked me to wait until they had changed by the fireplace; a marble affair stuck on a relatively flat wall in the lair, with a clear set of crevasses and crannies that diffused any smoke the fire would make.\n\nAs I waited, one of the dragon's minions, a lizard-like creature brought a tray of tea and homemade biscuits. Its wicked teeth and hunched gait was oddly servile, and its claws looked extremely well-kept.\n\nIt hissed at me in Draconic (a language I was still learning, and one that I didn't know enough of to converse in), but the meaning was cleared up as it gestured to the tray, left it on the macabre table made of human legs, and bowed, its tail gently sweeping along the floor in time with its gait.\n\n\"Thank you, Sir,\" I curtseyed. As I took a bite of the biscuits, a silky soft butter texture came through, and the small brown chunks were really tasty; washed down with the tea was a refreshment I would love to try more of.\n\nI wanted to thank the lizard, but I wasn't sure how to, so I took its hand in mine, gently touched my lips to its head and spoke in heavily accented Draconic. \"Thanks be to you.\"\n\nI flushed, thinking that I had got the pronunciation wrong; but the lizard hissed, holding its soft underbelly. It was clear it was laughing at me. It spoke thickly in Garai, \"I told you, Masster, she was better than the resssst.\"\n\nI felt, more than saw, the dragon's return. An alto of a voice called back in Draconic, but what I got was a reference to a name, and *to stop getting*, which is a transliteration.\n\nAs I turned to face the dragon, I felt the breath leave me.\n\nThe dragon had thick, lustrous sapphire hair, and a silver-grey pair of cross-slitted eyes on a stunningly pale, round face. Her body, in spite of the attire of a corset made of the bones of men, and a soft supple leather and the shimmering deep blue skirt was broad and almost round; the corset accentuating a body that, whilst appearing chubby, had a hardened core of muscle visible throughout.\n\n\"I, um, *wow.*\" I stammered. I was already lost to the eyes, that glittered with intelligence, concern and amusement. I flushed as my mind just rebooted.\n\nI suddenly felt like I should have dressed better, in spite of the nightgown made from Arachne silk from the Rach Queen.\n\n\"Are you real?\" I blurted out, and then panicked. *By the Gods, I had just insulted a* dragon, by questioning their existence!\n\nI was lucky, then, that she had a sense of humour; she laughed, a bell chime tinkling deep within my soul. The sibilant mockery that rebounded embarrassed me, and s I flushed deeper, I couldn't help but laugh at the situation.\n\nShe walked towards me, still laughing. I backed up a little, wary, but she kept approaching me and I realised just how much *bigger* she was than me. I looked straight ahead, and was just level with her upper chest.\n\nHer hand rippled the fingers, as her sharp-nailed forefinger touched just below my jaw, tipping my head up gently. \"See for yourself, Princess Rani.\"\n\nTime stopped as I stared into her eyes, and a dizzying sensation went through me, a tangle of physical and emotional responses.\n\nI felt a strange pair of cushions shortly before everything went to pale, and I tumbled.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": "You assassinated him by dropping a giant anvil on him?\" \"Yes.\" \"Why!?\" \"Because the steam roller couldn't catch him and he wouldn't push the \"Press me\" button.\"", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The CIA coordinator scrunched her nose as she passed around the dossier. She was cute for a ‘make your whole family disappear’ type. Tim looked down at his copy of the first photo and had to resist the visceral urge to spray the room with his liquid lunch.\n\n“What the hell did they do to these guys? It looks like they’ve been crushed with a steam roller.” Tim said.\n\n“Not they,” one of the grunts said, “him. One guy, works alone.” \n\n“Let me see which one you’re looking at.” The coordinator stepped beside Tim, studying his page. Her tight ponytail wafted the smell of cinnamon. He needed a cold shower. He’d been on assignment too long, losing focus.\n\n“No,” she said, outlining the flattened splatter than had once been an agent’s head. “This one was a series of anvils dropped from the top floor. There is a steam roller one, further on.”\n\nTim flipped through the stack, looking for a photo of the assassin. The best the CIA had on this guy was blurry surveillance footage stills from behind. He was shirtless, rail thin, and hairy, wearing some kind of mask but not high enough res. Tim could almost make out a large tattoo on his back, MEEP MEEP maybe. That probably wasn’t right.\n\n“We know precious little about this guy, but we have a plan to lure him out. Sierra Madre was the location of the last likely victim. He’s been dark for six months since. He may be recovering from an injury.” She held up a photo showing an outline of a thin man in the soot left from an explosion on a canyon wall. “We will spl-\n\nThe whine of a printer cut her off. “Everyone out!” she screamed, rushing toward the door of the agent briefing room. \n\n“Why?\" one of the black suit goons said with a condescending laugh. \"Is it gonna have a scary picture on it?\"\n\nTim pushed through the laughing boys' club to follow the coordinator. \n\n\"Get down!\" She pulled Tim behind a table she overturned, no regard for the pizza now strewn across the floor.\n\n\"It's a picture of a bomb! Which one of you jokers connected your phone to the printer?\" A man asked from inside. Tim could hear a hissing over the guffaws.\n\n\"I didn't want to believe it could be him, but this is his M.O. all over.\" She rubbed her face. \"This one's hard to kill, God knows I've tried.\"\n\nA loud bang shook the room. Glass sprayed across the floor and the now double disrespected pizza. Where the briefing room had been, a smoking husk of Soot and Carnage now stood, illuminated by beams of light from the holes in the ceiling.\n\n\"Jesus, what do we do now?\" Tim asked, pulling bits from his hair.\n\n\"We continue with the plan. just you and me. Alicia Rhoades, pleasure to meet you. Now, how fast can you run?\"\n\n/r/surinical", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " You are poor, and frequently daydream about being rich and important. Aliens are unfamiliar with the concept of \"thinking\", or \"wishing\", and for them, the only existence is reality. This led them to accidentally taking you instead of someone actually important.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "I thought I knew terror. I thought I had seen it in my eyes when I looked at my reflection in the puddles left in the wake of the rain. I thought I had felt it in the hollow of my stomach. I thought I had heard it in the screams thundering across alleyways in the deep of the night. I thought, and I thought wrong.\n\nFear came to me in the shape of a beam of light hoisting me from the concrete to the sky and terror introduced itself when I woke up in front of three beings that were more octopus-like than human, who, without worry or care for my screams and shouts, tortured me for days on end.\n\nThat day I understood there was no terror in the swiftness of death, only in the incessant pain that led one to wish he were dead.\n\nMy thoughts rallied when the wires penetrated my skin and lodged themselves into my blood vessels to distill fire within my being. And yet, among the searing pain, my sharp screams, and the ever-growing chaos in my mind, I found solace where I had always found it: in my dreams.\n\nThere was order in them. I didn't comprehend what was happening, or why I had wound up in this place, but my dreams remained intact. I could travel to the images of joy and happiness they produced and forget about the torment my physical being was enduring.\n\nWithin them, I couldn't hear the rumble of my stomach, I could feel the cloud-like softness of a pillow, and I could see people not shunning me but greeting me instead. Within them, I was a king, and so in my imaginary kingdom, I remained.\n\nI remained there until the pain ceased and the beep of a laser scanning me jolted me out and hurled me back into reality. One of my captors brought a screen to me, and in it, I saw humanity staring back at me.\n\n\"We've captured your king,\" my captor said, his tentacles pouring out of a mask-like device that seemed to translate from their language to ours. He had not used it to communicate with me before. \"We are not interested in war. But we are interested in ransom. We need nickel, carbon, boron, and gold. Provide us with half of what you have in your world. Provide it to us, and we'll return your king and leave.\"\n\nMy brows knitted. He had called me humanity's king? At first, I thought I had heard wrong, but the moment I witnessed the turning heads and confusing expressions of my kin's crowd, I knew my captors had made a mistake.\n\nThe camera focused on our president. \"We don't know who that is,\" he said with utter certainty. \"And we surely won't give you those resources for free. Our civilization's foundation has been war and bloodshed. We have ceased those practices among our kind, but we surely will continue the tradition against predators like yourselves. Return the kid, leave our system alone, or else prepare for bloodshed. And believe me, *we are prepared*.\"\n\nA gate swished open in the room I was in, and a flood of aliens came in. They rose their tentacles in the air as though they were having a discussion. Their language seemed to be composed mostly of guttural vibrations instead of words. I couldn't comprehend anything, but they turned to me and then back to the screen, which was still focused on the president, and they did so many a time, which led me to believe there was confusion in their minds.\n\nThen, unbidden, a dark veil fell upon my sight, and when I lifted it, I found a human at my side. He was sitting on a chair, and clad in a military uniform.\n\n\"Thomas Eddard, yes?\" He asked and I nodded. \"Pleasure to meet you. I'm General Finos. You must be confused, and rightly so. You were abducted and from what we gather, greatly injured. The injuries have healed now. We are worried about your mental state, though. The torture seems to have been excessive. Did they ask you anything? Do you remember anything?\"\n\nI frowned and studied my surroundings. I was in what the bright lights and machines betrayed to be a hospital. \"They didn't ask me anything, no. I remember, yes. I feel good. I'm calm. Is this a dream?\"\n\nThe general shook his head and a small smile tugged at his lips. \"Do you feel like walking? We will ask you some questions later, and you will be provided with a psychiatrist to follow you until you are fully recovered in order to evaluate your mental state and its evolution.\"\n\n\"Yes, I would like that. I've not walked in a long time.\"\n\nThe general helped me to my feet and guided me toward the exit of the hospital. When he opened the gates and I stepped out into the light, my heart stuttered. For gathered no twenty meters away from me was a crowd of people erupting in supportive chants holding signs with my name.\n\nEmotions enveloped me and I embrace them. I turned to the general. \"Wh--what is this?\" I asked my voice breaking, my eyes on the verge of tears. A thought interrupted the emotions for a brief second. \"The war, what happened with the aliens?\"\n\n\"You are the first human to ever be abducted. At least with proofs. When you appeared on those screens and we saw the state you were in the entire world rooted for you and unified in their hatred toward the invaders. That desire to defeat, to destroy them became a reality in our minds, and this was necessary for us the aliens to reconsider their stance. Believe it or not, you became an important part of history,\" he said. \"In a way, you were the element and the motivation for humanity to unite and scare the invaders away.\"\n\n\"We def--defeated them? How? I don't understand.\"\n\n\"How? Well, that's classified, kid.\" He patted my back playfully. \"We will tell you later. We know you dreamed of this moment. Please, enjoy it.\"\n\nI stared at the crowd, and couldn't hold back the tears any longer. They streamed at first and poured a moment later. I was overwhelmed with wonderful, relentless emotions. My heart fluttered, my lips were hooked into the widest smile I could smile, my body was covered in goosebumps, and within me, I felt as though I had a thousand birds singing sweet singsongs.\n\nIt was odd, days ago, I had seen and suffered the true face of terror.\n\nBut that day, with the crowd before me, I felt something I had never felt before. It was visceral. It was beautiful. It was a gorgeous counterpoint. It was all those things and more.\n\nIt was happiness.\n\n\\---------\n\n/r/AStoryToRuleThemAll \\--> Come, I have candy.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]

[ { "content": "You are a prolific and imaginative writer. You will be given a prompt. Write something amazing for that prompt. Be creative and surprising!", "name": "situation", "role": "system" }, { "content": " \"Fake it 'til you make it\" has been my motto for the majority of my life, and has never failed me. I was very surprised when faking being a real magician granted me true magic.", "name": null, "role": "user" }, { "content": "The lady at the door was in her late twenties and wore a crooked blue hat. I’d been expecting her for a while, and had already lit the candles in the hallway and the dining room. The house smelled strongly of incense, and its cloudy breath wafted out and over her. A smoker’s breath.\n\n“Mister Foran?” she asked. Behind her, invisible ropes tugged at the sun, dragging it down into its nightly pit. It cast its last defying rays of red like a silent, bloody scream.\n\n“Yes, that’s me. You must be Angeline?”\n\nShe nodded and offered a black-gloved hand. I took it and held it for a moment. Then, dramatically, I turned. “This way. The spirits won’t wait all night.“\n\nAngeline followed me through the hallway, the skeletal candle-holders watching us with their twitching yellow eyes.\n\n“It’s your son who has passed, correct?”\n\n”Yes,” she said, although it sounded like a gasp.\n\nI led her into the dining room where a round wooden table waited for us. The room was dark, despite the candles — the thick velvet curtains drawn, the wallpaper a dim enough brown to now look black.\n\n”Sit, please. What was your son’s name?”\n\n”Michael,” she said. She removed her hat and lay it on the table, where its dark outline looked like a pot of tea. In the the candle-dark, her eyes seemed black; shadows slid into her sockets like inky liquid poured into mugs.\n\nShe sat opposite me, staring at the crystal ball in the center of the table. I heard her teeth shiver together.\n\n“Are you cold?” I said. “I can get you a blanket.”\n\n”No,” she said. “I’m just...”\n\nNervous. They always were. But it was a joy I was providing them — nothing to be nervous about. I said, “I understand.”\n\nI didn’t know the woman, and yet I could guess everything about her. The desperation after her son’s death, the willingness to believe he still lingered with her, the fallout with her husband, the existential isolation that tangled her like a corpse in a river. I saw women like her every week, who‘d lost someone close. A mother cat whose kitten had been taken and she now wailed on the fence each night, sending out a pleading cry. But knowing all the while her kitten would never hear it, never come back.\n\nI’d been doing summonings or seances, whichever you prefer, for two years now. I was never particularly attuned to the spiritual side of life, but I was always good at poker, at bluffing, at taking money from those willing to gamble. Not that I was doing it for the money.\n\nIf my wife saw me... God, she’d be ashamed. Wouldn’t be able to understand or forgive me. But I had to do it.\n\nI pulled the crystal ball near. “I’m going to begin now,” I said. “Please place you hands on the table.”\n\nShe did so. For a few moments, I chanted a latin prayer. Then I said, ”Michael,” waving my hands over the crystal ball. The electrics inside of it lit and it became a constellation of roaming stars. Angeline gasped.\n\n“Your mother is here, Michael,” I said, rolling my eyes until Angeline could only see the whites. “She misses you terribly.”\n\nA breeze drifted through the room. Nothing more than a hidden remote-controlled fan out in the hallway. And yet to Angeline, it was the spirit of her son entering the room, chilling her bones.\n\n”He is here,” I said. “I can feel him.”\n\n“Daniel?’\n\nThere. There in her eyes was the look I craved like a drug. That I was jealous to hell of, that I would die without. It fed my heart and kept me going.\n\n“Would you like to ask him a—“\n\nThe crystal ball flew from off the table, shattering against the wall. Angelina covered her mouth. My heart froze.\n\nThen the candles snuffed out, as if ice-cold fingers had closed over thirty of them all at once.\n\n”Is it you, Daniel?” asked Angelina.\n\nThe voice that spoke next was not Michael’s. Was not a recording I had set up. It was a woman’s voice.\n\n”Enough,” it said. “Enough.”\n\nI heard the shame. The disappointment.\n\nThen, the candles came back to flickering life.\n\nFor a while we sat there in silence.\n\nGradually, my heartbeat returned, and soon it felt as if I had a dozen hearts — one in my throat, two in my hands, my feet. My entire body was a beating, frightened set of hearts. Like alarm clocks ringing.\n\nEventually, Angelina spoke up. “That wasn’t Daniel.”\n\n“No,” I said. I took out my wallet with a shaky hand and returned the money she’d paid in advance. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”\n\nShe took the money, stood, and put on her hat. She walked to the door, then paused. “You knew the voice, didn’t you? I could see it in your eyes. I knew the look. Of loss. Of hope.”\n\nI took a long deep breath. ”My wife died two years ago,” I said. “I’d not been expecting anything... And... I’m so sorry.“\n\n”You’ve been lost.”\n\n”Yes.”\n\n”You still are.”\n\nI replied very quietly. To myself as much as her. “I needed to see how it looked. The happiness of thinking my loved one was still here with me. But I couldn’t bring her back. I couldn’t make myself believe. But I could make you. Make others.” I paused then added in a whisper, “I’m so very sorry.”\n\nThe woman nodded once, then left me alone in the dark room, with the candles and broken glass.\n\nI thought of the cat on the fence as I wept into my arms.", "name": null, "role": "assistant" } ]