Oh, oh I like this one.

I’d read this book

Only 8 people have ever possessed it, all of them for a duration no longer than 10 weeks. What became of the previous owners? The best guess of many was that the artifact not only lays a curse upon the victims but also the owner. Bad luck-or perhaps it should be labeled as karma, for that is what it is-is sure to lead these unfortunate souls to their untimely end. That is, until the final owner the human race knows of came to possess it. She was the eighth person to own the artifact, which was shaped like a serpent's head with piercing ruby eyes and a violent expression, tongue out and fangs on display as if to threaten any passersby with the promise of a swift-acting, venomous bite resulting in their death. The artifact was no bigger than the size of one's fingertip, small enough to wear as a necklace.

She was no more than 15 years of age, pale, with long, brown, wavy hair that fell to the waist. She was rather short and always walked around with a tired expression, yet her eyes were very much alive and eager. She approached the artifact, having just witnessed the older businessman get shot in the head whilst on his usual morning stroll. Right in front of her lay that man, who still, even in death, had a greedy look on his face. "He's surely going to Hell," the girl muttered aloud. But the man wasn't where her interests lied. It was in the small pendent around his neck that she drew her curiosity. Without much thought, she tore the pendant from his neck, snapping the chain. She then ran off, leaving the suited man to begin his decomposition, there on that hot summer's pavement.

After a good while sprinting throughout the city, she found herself by the deserted bay, looking out on the harbor to see the giant copper lady, holding her torch up high as the sun began to descend beneath the horizon. She unclenched her fist to reveal the artifact whose eyes were now the brightest thing for miles. Of course, the girl knew of this artifact. She'd heard rumors of the previous owners, who had been so power hungry that they'd tormented the countless people they managed to hypnotize with it. These people were poor, unsuspecting victims who allowed themselves to be convinced by the artifact to serve its owner to the bitter end. And they all met very bitter ends.

Finding a seat on one of the many benches lining the pier, the girl began to whisper. It isn't clear if she understood what she was saying, or if she had planned to say anything at all. But the words found her somehow. "I will be your vessel," she breathed, excitement brewing in her eyes, even brightening her usually deadpan facial expression that had always seemed to avoid her eyes. They ruby glow of the serpent's eyes had even begun to reflect in her own eyes as she muttered the next words. "But first, please grant me the gift of a proper home."

Did she expect to return to the rundown orphanages she had learned to call home later that night to find the previous head of the house lying in a pool of his own blood? Certainly not. She had simply entered the front door to find a crowd of other orphans standing around the man they had all thought was generously granting them a stable home. He had coincidentally been found with a bullet wound to the head, the same way that businessman had been earlier. There was something odd about his body, however. A faint red mark on his neck, that the girl only noticed upon crouching down next to him. She placed her hand on his chest, meaning to say goodbye. There was no mistaking it. The imprints that only a thin chain would leave. The individual chain-link marks were just barely visible to her yet she knew that things were about to change for the better. She was pleased to see the officers barge into the house, followed by two men with sympathetic expressions, who she knew to be the social workers who had played such a prominent role in bringing all of those orphans to the orphanage. "We can assure you," one man said to the officers. "We will place these children in proper homes in the wake of this tragedy."

The only question that had plagued her mind the following day was how and why the head of the house managed to return to the orphanage that day.

Seconding this. Cracks me up

"Excuse me. Can I ask you to move?" Asked a tiny petite lady, carrying ninety-five tons of steel I-beams on her shoulder.

"Oh I'm sorry." I replied as I stepped out of the way.

As she walked past me I notice her long silky hair, dazzling blue eyes, with the body of a goddess. I muster up every ounce of courage I had to ask her, "excuse me miss, you're really pretty can I get your number?"

Catching her by surprise she turns around quickly, swinging the I-beams with her and accidently swatting the innocent boy like a fly. His guts exploded everywhere creating a pool of blood where he last stood.

"Oh dang it I did it again, he was cute too," she muttered.

"IT ATE IT" Hissed Jekob-3, the Androde. His metallic pincers opened and shut rapidly, enormous pupils swiveling from one council member to the next. All looked at the holo-screen with varying degrees of horror.

What the council assumed to be a human aristocrat, daintily wiped her mouth after partaking in a plateful of one of the most terrifying creatures known to the council. She looked up at her servant and to their horror, asked for more...fried.

an Octopus, they called it.

Known as a Sargonite to those familiar with the fierce race, all trembled in fear at the mention of them. When fully fledged they farmed entire Sola for their young, and lived in the hearts of crumbling galaxies, the council had been formed to defend against them.

Another member, a Kaulois, a reptilian race, pointed a trembling finger at the human next to it. Who had just been served a plate of...were those Paleins? It gagged, long red tongue lolling out of its oblong snout and onto the ground. Paleins, a poisonous plant that drove many a race insane, are incredibly rare outside of worlds rich in water. Here they named it Kale, but its nickname was "The Fall of an Empire." After having killed off a Guodion emperor and his entire harem after having it shredded into their meals. They'd died slowly, and not before bringing their capital planet to its knees.

More and more members of the Council pointed things out, not just what they were eating, but what they were doing.

"Why do they...?" Another said, having zoomed into the scene of multiple humans kicking around a ball in a large field, something seemed to have triggered the herd of humans, as they all burst into a riot and began destroying infrastructure indiscriminately.

"Fellow council members--" began a quivering alien, its feelers all raised in the air "--This excursion to the human planet, Earth, has shown me that humans have no need for the council."

One by one, they began to agree. A Zorp, a wriggly mass of keratin with a beak opened its mouth and screeched. The translator nodded its many heads furiously.

"His highness believes that perhaps the humans should be added to the list of races the council needs to defend against if need be."

There’s a Discworld book where Death gets forcibly retired just before he’s meant to collect an old wizard, who then shocks his colleagues by turning up the day after his wake* and greeting them at breakfast with the words ‘does anyone know what a spleen does?’

*As wizards know when they’re going to die, or at least get enough advance warning to take out some large loans and empty their wine cellars, their wakes tend to take place building up to the event in question.

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* See Reality Fiction and Simple Prompts for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

🆕 New Here? ✏ Writing Help? 📢 News 💬 Discord

I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please contact the moderators of this subreddit if you have any questions or concerns.

This could be a movie tbh

If I married into a mob family this is exactly how I’d likely act🙂

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* See Reality Fiction and Simple Prompts for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

🆕 New Here? ✏ Writing Help? 📢 News 💬 Discord

I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please contact the moderators of this subreddit if you have any questions or concerns.

(CRITICISM WELCOMED! :)

Avika glanced at the clock. 12:30. There was 5 minutes until lunch, the time she dreaded the most, but also anticipated the most. Lunch was a nightmare, but it was better than sitting through a boring lecture of things she already knew. She glanced at the clock again. Still 12:30. “Jesus, why can’t time pass faster?!” she thought. But that’s the weird thing about time. 5 minutes can either be an instant or an eternity. In this case, it was an eternity. As if the universe was finally listening to her, the big minute hand shifted to the left. 12:31. Time crawled by, but it crawled. Another minute. And another. And another. Until finally, it was 12:35. But the teacher said nothing. Avika gave her a look that was practically demanding her to let the class leave. But she waited. 12:36. Finally, the dreaded and anticipated words were spoken. “Alright everyone, it is time for lunch. Leave your stuff and we’ll pick up where we left off later.” Everyone left, buzzing with excitement and chatter. Mindless chatter. Behind her, Avika’s classmate and childhood friend, Isaac Lambert, addressed her. “Hey.” Avika jumped, not expecting Isaac to be there. “What the h3ll is wrong with you?! Who goes up to someone without warning and-“ She was cut off by Isaac before she could finish her scolding. “Sorry, sorry. Anyway, you sitting with me and the rest?” She stared at him. She has a way of communicating her message without even lifting a finger. “Does it look like I have anywhere else to go? Tell your idiot friends I’ll be joining them.” Isaac smiled at her, which triggered an emotion she couldn’t explain. As she walked down the familiar hallways, she noticed all the groups, people that belonged with each other, and she couldn’t help but feel lonely, but she brushed it off. As she entered the cafeteria, she looked for any familiar faces. She found three. Rowan Hartley, Varush Kumar, and Matheo Alburez. They were friends with Isaac, and social outcasts. Varush greeted her, and patted the seat next to him. She sat on the opposite side. Soon, the rest of the group arrived. Wolfe Zielski, Clayton Howard, and Isaac, who are also outcasts. The entire group consisted of outcasts who no one cares about. They all knew each other and were close. All except Avika. She was an outcast in a group of outcasts. The whole conversation was a blur for Avika, except for one thing. “Hey, do you guys want to come over tonight?” Isaac gestured to Avika, inviting her as well. “We can play games, and summon demons!” Avika facepalmed, before replying “Do you even know how to summon a demon?” He bit his lip, and looked to the side. “Seriously?! Anyone?!” The whole group stared in silence. Not only because they had no clue, but also because Avika actually talked to them. She sighed, and then replied “Lucky for you, I know how to. I’ll come. Give me the date and address.” There are some moments that feel irrelevant, but end up being either an amazing or terrible decision. For Avika, this was one of those life changing moments.

Nice start and also loving the Hero's superhero name. The end gives me some chills. Thank you for checking out my prompt.

There’s an SCP where a bunch of guys managed to use 100% of their brains- and most of them promptly died when their automatic functions shut off. The last guy managed to survive through sheer force of will before they found him and hooked him up to life support, but he’s still basically catatonic due to having to manage stuff like stomach digestion and what not

Great work, interesting dynamic between the two and a cliffhanger for the end, thanks for checking out my prompt!

> You're saying that the 100% of your brain thing is bullshit, right?

I'm referring to the "We only use 10 percent of our brains" thing. There was even a movie about it with Morgan Freeman and Scarlett Johansenn called Lucy where she unlocks the ability to "use 100 percent of her brain" and becomes some kind of god lol

I'm glad you enjoyed it. Cool prompt.

Thank you, that guy... Have my updoot.

>Dale scratched his beard, his hand moving through its face as it sniffed him.

Wow, that was a great read, thank you so much! I have to admit I didn't see the end coming but it's absolutely perfect! Oh, and I think you got Jerry's and Karl's names mixed up a few times. :)

That’s a good one. Nice work!

You're saying that the 100% of your brain thing is bullshit, right?

If you use 100% of your brain at once you're having a seizure.

To clarify it's the fact that we're not using all of our brain at once that gives it any meaning. I would be kind of like finding a meaningful message in a string of 86 Billion ones and not a single zero. There is no meaning, it's just... on.

To be fair this is an oversimplification and I'm not qualified to explain it much better but it is a fallacy that using all of our brain would be beneficial.

"What may be your request, girl?" the pendant's voice called. It resonated throughout the cave's damp walls and into her brain. "Go on; I will harbour no judgement."
"Return my son to me."
A delayed response came from the pendant. Made of rough black tourmaline and dirtied silver, it shone despite no feasible light source. The thin girl did not avert her eyes even once from its glistening, vapid surface. She knew better.
"I do not know who you speak of. Recite me his name and I shall do what I must to return him."
"You dare speak to me like this?" she spat in response, raising her voice. Just like the pendant's, it echoed throughout the cave with force. "You know who he is, you charlatan."
Once again, the jewellery denied its knowledge of this son. "Girl, you are foolish to fight me, and you are bold to assume I know of his whereabouts."
"You are lying to me. Trade my son for me! Release him from your grasp or fear the wrath of a thousand suns or more!" Strands of her thin brown hair flung in front of her dark eyes as she stepped forward.
A raspy, cold laugh erupted within the area. It had been caught in its lie. "I confess to my games. I know this man. But you will need more to convince me of letting him go. You are but a spindly little girl; what gives you an advantage over your son?"
The girl scoffed upon realising the pendant did not recognise her. She spoke with resentment. "I am no little girl, you idiot. I am the wife of King Minos, son of Zeus, and I myself am the queen of Crete and daughter of Helios. Do you need further introduction, or must the gods themselves shrink down to our height just for you to remember their names?"
Pasiphaë knew what she was up against when she released the Minotaur from Daedalus's perfectly designed Labyrinth. She understood what Minos would do to the architect and his son, and what he would do to her. But she would do anything to make her son human again—and anything to finally outshine her sister. Circe would not be in the spotlight much longer.

[deleted]

This wasn't just wholesome, it was downright cheesy, in the best of ways.