In gratitude for your kindness, I've made some updates so you have a bit more to read.

Yikes. Is that available anywhere?

Update 3 :

Sorry for not posting for a year. Unfortunately for me I was completely wrong about Horror and it’s connections to knowledge.

It turns out horror , is directly connected to fiction itself . Horror or as she used to be called Thalia , is one of the original Greek muses. Over the years as humanity lost faith in the Greek gods . The muses grew stronger as creativity and knowledge took precedence. She is now the goddess of fiction , or more specifically IMAGINATION.

Needless to say me hiding in a library of all places was bad. I wanna say about five seconds after I posted that last update I was captured . I actually spent the last year being tossed between all her favorite books . Some times I got horror story , some times I got a romance novel, but mostly she trapped me in a bunch of manga . Did you know that any manga can be an isekai if throw in a random civilian.

I lost count of the amount of books I was teleported through after I ran out of mecha manga . The only reason I’m alive right now is that she doesn’t allow herself to know every story written. Every time she dropped me into a manga , I used my knowledge of how manga stories work and broke the story. After all, if I ruin the ending the story ends quicker . This infuriated her into releasing me .

My release however came with a few conditions :

#1 I have to get the words “PROPERTY OF THALIA” tattooed somewhere embarrassing. I’m currently typing this while laying on my stomach so you can guess what I did.

#2 I have to continue to type out these updates . She also said that depending on if people like this . I have to make my own separate blog.

#3 I can not work for any of the other Old ones . The old ones refer to ancient dirties or spirits who humanity has forgotten about or stopped worshipping in mass. From what she said , a few of the heroes are servants of or are secretly old ones. So that’s just great .

#4 I can’t spoil any more books , manga , tv shows , or cartoons for her . This one was the biggest since she said an entire genre of anime. This is only because I told her that all isekai follow the same format. WHICH THEY DO !

5 if I violate any of her conditions she will turn me into a childrens book and leave me in a day care . Given how horribly kids treat books. I accepted her offer but not without making my own conditions .

I asked for her to restore my family farm and house , immortality , and super powers . She gave me the family farm and then made me functionally immortal but only if I keep writing . This basically means I’ll live forever but I can still be killed or get sick . I just won’t die of old age .

So that’s my life now. I didn’t actually defeat Horror , but instead I annoyed her into making me a prisoner . I’m not entirely sure if I won here . She’s still a thief so I didn’t even stop her . I tried suggesting that maybe she’d have more fun as a hero . She countered by reminding me of the heroes journey and how it typically ends . Given she thinks I’m on a heroes journey myself I feel like that was a warning.

Thanks to Thalia releasing me I missed out on a lot. Apparently the heroes surge and and argonaut have been fused together by magic to create StormWalker ! Also villain known as microbe shrank Mount Everest ? I missed out on some weird stuff . Hopefully I didn’t miss too much.

Once again wish me luck . Especially since now that I’m functionally immortal red nurse and Sin are once again coming after me.

Fab idea!

Write a story about a party, without using any names.

Pearly Gates ie the door to heaven

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pearly_gates

This is pretty forward against Christians though…

This is the Lock Picking Lawyer and what I have for you today is this Olympus model 888 padlock. This is probably the rarest lock I have ever had on my channel, and I’m excited to share it with you. You’ll notice it’s currently locking these large gate doors made out of pearl but more on that later.

This padlock has a hardened steel shackle and a large, heavy body that should prove very effective against destructive physical attacks. Unfortunately this lock isn’t as secure as it should be for it’s typical usage. Let me show you what I mean.

This lock has a disk detainer core so first thing we’re going to do is rotate all those disks clockwise as far as they will go. Then I’m going to grab the pick that Bosnian Bill and I made and I’m going to tension off of disk number one.

Small click out of disk 2. Number 3 is binding… big click out of disk 3. Nothing on disk number 4. Disk 5 feels like a zero cut. Nice click out of disk number 6. Back to disk number 2. Number 2 is binding. Big click on disk number 2. Number 3 feels set. Disk number 4 is binding. Big click out of number 4 and we’ve got this open.

As you can tell this was relatively easy to open with the right tool. There were only 6 disks instead of the 10-12 we see in higher security locks and it didn’t have any anti-pick features.

Now let me go back to why I am picking this lock. It turns out that God hates lawyers just as much as everyone else and automatically sends them to hell. I didn’t think this was very fair and I thought maybe I could change His mind by helping Him secure His 12 gates better.

In any case, that’s all I have for you today. If you do have any questions or comments about this, please put them below. If you liked this video and would like to see more like it please subscribe. And as always, have a nice day.

PART 3:

"Spread out!" Ssu screams in her di-tonal voice as a mass of undead bodies stagger towards us.

The necromancer throws his hands up towards us, and I get a good look at him.

He looks to be in his sixties, for the most part. Except his eyes, which are sunken too far back into his head, and surrounded by black and blue flesh it looks almost bruised. His skin is surprisingly pale, and a close crop of silver hair holds fast to his head. It's a CEO haircut.

I don't know why that strikes me as so strange and off-putting, but it does.

Wolfe is dead.

No more time.

The fingerbones extend again, ripping straight from the Necromancer's hands and plunging down the boston street towards me.

Markus blurs and is in front of me in an instant.

The fingers plunge into his abdoment and chest, and I hear ribs crack. Two of the fingers pierce over his heart.

Thankfully, the organ there is already black, and still.

When I finally kick into gear, the Necromancer is already striking out.

I dodge to the side at a roll and release a burst of bullets from the P90.

Two 3-bursts. Two shots go wide. The other four slam against the Necromancer.

Yes!

Except...

Sparks shower from his chest as my bullets tear through black fabric and slam into his ribcage. His exposed ribcage. No skin.

They spark off, and we're already on the move.

"I'll take care of the bodies," Markus says, drawing a rapier and dagger. Then he's a blur again, lunging and almost flickering between targets. The thin blade jabs out in bright bolts of steel. That's all my eyes can track, at least.

Ssu is going straight for our target.

She reaches him in an instant and swipes out with one hand. The skin on her arm, dark brown and very much human, morphs mid-swing into golden fur, and metallic brass nails. A lion.

Ssu-- Lamassu, misses by inches. The Necromancer flickers back in a cloud of black smoke. Wings sprout from Ssu's back for a brief moment as she clears the distance between them and gives chase.

What do I do? What do I do?

I feel like an AI capable of seeing the picture that big wouldn't focus on being the best cop, it would focus on taking out the causes of the problems

PART 2:

It's called a P90, and it's a weirdly shaped gun, all things considered. It's bizarre straight from the factory-- short-muzzled and curled at the grip with a long bar to load the ammunition.

This one isn't straight from the factory, either.

I've modified it quite a bit. I'm a decent shot. More than decent. But the reason I'm here is ingenuity and engineering.

When the world turned upside down, Zombies took over, and words like "Necromancer" and "Vampire Lord" became common place, I discovered a few talents I'd never known I had, and had no reason to have to know.

The slide bar that holds the ammunition is clear on the left side so I can reload. The right side however is no longer accessible, due to the glass bar of anointed holy oil that slides against the side of the bullets with each new load.

The grip is still the circular shape, but I've stuck a rotary-style whirring mechanism within. The mechanism spins as I run and move, like one of those self-charging watches. The power then feeds into a focusing crystal underneath the stock. With a gesture of will I can power the crystal to release a hyper-focused beam of fire. It's thin as a needle, and if it pierces a brain it might as well be the size of a softball. It's lethal.

Oh, and I've got three scopes, both iron sights. Black iron, specifically. First is a Star of David, and inside a cross to serve as the sight itself. Then I've got a half-moon on the side of the sight, and the star to the right lines up with the center of the cross.

Hey, might as well hedge my bets. I've got other modifications, but those are the main ones.

Every square inch of my body that can take it is covered in ammo. Otherwise, I've got a shortsword from the finest of Greek relic-hunters if things get hairy.

Speaking of hairy, Wolfe signals we're ready to go.

"He knows we're here," the wolf-man says, referring to the Necromancer. "He's probably holed up in there nice and good. We're going to break down the door, find him, then take him out."

Ssu rolls her eyes. "No subtlety, then."

"No," Wolfe says, either not catching her tone or deliberately ignoring it. "The library itself is a vertical stretch. A giant rectangle. If I'm the Necro, I'm at the far end, and the best undead I can raise are standing between me and anything else."

I nod-- I agree.

"Markus, you're first in the breach," Wolfe says.

"Of course, who cares about pain when you can't die?" Markus drolls.

"Agreed, completely," Wolfe says.

Deliberately ignoring, I decide.

"Then I'll come in with Ssu. Markus and I will take care of the undead. Ssu goes for the necro."

The three of them nod, and Wolfe throws open the rear doors of the SUV.

"What about me?" I call after.

Wolfe takes a distracted look back. "Oh," he says, "You can--"

Then something moves through Wolfe's brain.

It takes me a moment to register.

It's a fingerbone.

A three-meter long, skinless, greenish-pale fingerbone.

It slides out of Wolfe's brain with a sickly, sticky sound.

Our leader sinks to the ground, dead.

I gaze down at him, then up at the courtyard outside the library in horror. I find the owner of the finger.

The necromancer is not waiting for us inside.

It would be pretty cool if the genie returned because it was what the protagonist "needed" then, which was their second wish.

Sounds almost like doomslayer. I made a race like this in my own multiverse called the El except they are way more secretive an consume universes at a time.

m o a r

I've been interpreting it as the Earth and Hell become one hence the need to remove the faithful.

Sometimes, the most alien people are... our own children. #theouterlimits #yourewelcome

What I have for you today is something special. An ornate lock designed to keep back the legions of the damned. Now normally for this kind of lock I'd want to pick it in a vice, but we're going to be picking in situ today. Normally on this kind of lock id use my lishi tool, however I've instead fashioned a little tool from some metal I found in a river that I'm calling a lethe tool. This will be available on covert instruments, and link in the description below.

Okay, let's get started.

Click out of one...

Two is binding...

Bit of a false promise of heavenly eternity on 3...

And we have that open. Honestly the security on this lock was beyond poor. Let me just reset the lock and I'll show again so you know it wasn't a fluke.

Click out of 1...

Some counter rotation on 3...

And we have that open even faster than last time.

Now the gates that this lock is attached to is made out of concentrated good, so the legions of hell can't touch these without significant damage to themselves. Likely this lock was included to conform with some biblical law, or to be sold in the state of california.

Anyway, that's all I have for you today.

           Mini woke but remained as still as she could. She fought to keep from panicking and took small measured breaths. On high alert and listening for any small sound. Her shoulder hurt but she ignored it. Can't move. Can't move. Don't move. If he thinks I am still out of it he won't hit me anymore. Minutes passed with silence all around her. She looked thru slitted eyelids and saw a bright, white room. First thing she did was take a grateful breath she was alone, but then wait. Where was she? Chancing a full look see, Mini sat up. She was alone alright. No entrance or exit, no furniture, no nothing greeted her sight. Grateful at first, then scared and now mad.
          Shaking her fist at the ceiling, "What have you done now Jimmy?" Mini yelled. "Why can't you just leave me alone? Why do you have to do things like this to me?"
          Mini stood, "Where are you? Say something!" she said, angry tears rolling down her face.
          There was no answer.
          Frustrated she let out a big sigh and looked down, there was a piece of paper at her feet. She had been sitting on it. Mini picked it up.
          "Touch the Wall." There was a logo , beneath the request. The letters "JA-R-US" were set in a half circle, like a smile.
          "Is this another one of your sick jokes, Jimmy? Is it? Just because you have money doesn't mean you can do anything you want to me."
          Not knowing what else to do Mini touched the wall closest to her. It became translucent and tall words scrolled down.
          "Greetings. Welcome to JA-R-US."
          A large keyboard floated up on bottom of the screen.
          The next line was, "You are facing your front door."
          Mini was stunned. But this all looked familiar. Her little brother had played a game sorta like this. She had to type directions and stuff.
          She tried, "Open front door."
          "Front door is open."
          "Exit front door." She answered.
          "You are in the hallway."
          Remembering the floor plan of her apartment she continued.
          Just as she reached the elevator a red warning flashed across the screen.
          "Jack Ass Alert. Jack Ass Alert. Jack Ass has been detected in the room ahead."
          Mini froze. It was Jimmy, he loved to corner her in the elevator. She couldn't go down the stairs either because his goons would have that exit covered. Now what? But wait, this was a game right?
          "Look through door." She typed one letter at a time, not knowing what would happen.
          A section of the door to the elevator became clear as glass.
          It was Jimmy. There were fresh red welts on his face where she had dug in with her nails. "That little bitch." He muttered smearing the blood drips across his cheek. "This is the last time I will let her get away from me. I will make her love me. She is mine and mine alone."
          Mini yelped out and stepped back in horror. "Oh my god. Oh my god. What do I do?"
          The screen responded with a "?"
          Mini typed ,"?" in reply.
          "Help Menu: When Jackass has been detected select an exile level by entering 'roll dice'. This will create an appropriate resolution for your Jackass."
          Mini looked around not really believing any of this.
          She shrugged her shoulders, winced and typed, "Roll Dice."
          "7. You have selected the Seventh Level of Hell."
          "Roll for duration."        
          "Roll Dice." She typed.
          "Double 6. The duration selected will be Eternity."
          She watched, half in horror, half in amazement as the elevator floor beneath Jimmy began to burn.
          "WHAT THE HELL!! HELP! HELP! GET ME OUTTA HERE!" He screamed at the top of his lungs.
          Mini was shrieking and shaking as she watched him fall from view, his yells becoming distant then stopping.
          All was quiet.
          "Thank you for playing JA-R-US."
          The wall went back to being a plain wall.
          Mini fainted.
          A loud banging at her door woke her up.
          "Mini. This is Cleo, let me in. Mini! Let me in. Are you alright?!"
          Mini sat up groggy and looked around. Her bed, her apartment. "What?"
          Stumbling to her front door, she let her best friend Cleo in. "What is it?"
          Acting like aliens had come to earth Cleo challenged her, "Mini, haven't you seen the news?"
          Mini blinked at her friend, she looked down and noticed she was still wearing the clothes she'd worn on last night.
          "Watch this." Cleo turned on the T.V.
          "Infamous software genius and crypto wizard Jimmy Glens has committed suicide. He was filmed jumping off the top of his penthouse. He fell into a construction hole in the street. His body has not been found. Film tonight."
          Mini sat back. Jimmy gone?
          No. It can't be. No. Digging in her pocket she pulled out a crumpled paper. As she smoothed it out the words on it were fading fast, "....JA-R-US..........."

PART 1:

"The Ends Justify The Means--- That's Martinelli," Wolfe says to me, jabbing a fat and fur-laden finger my way as the military transport SUV bumps along the cobblestones of Old Boston.

"Machiavelli, pretty sure," I think, but don't say. Wolfe's in charge, and this is my first day with Zeta-Team. I'm a professional, after all. I want to make a good impression.

"Machiavelli, idiot," Ssu says in her strange di-tonal voice. One is the voice of a woman in her late-thirties. The other is the scratchy, deep tone of the Assyrian Mystic she shares a winged form with.

I shudder.

I can't help it.

I'm only human. Literally. And in this crowd, that's a novelty.

Wolfe makes a sort of complaining sound as the SUV goes over a rock or under a pothole-- I'm not sure which. Either way it makes us all jostle up, and he slams his head against the car door.

How did I get here?

But of course I know how I got here.

Competency.

It's a curse, really. Not literal, like the man-creature to my right, Markus. But a curse nonetheless.

My station here as the only pure-human member of Zeta is a jarringly short story. One moment I was getting my Master's in International Affairs, looking around at CIA desk-jobs, or non-combat field jobs.

Then there's a physics defying eclipse, and bodies are ripping out of graves. The world turns on its head. It's funny-- I actually did end up using my Master's degree. They framed it for me in a glass frame, and I shattered it over my ex's head, then stabbed him in the brain with one of the shards.

Thanks, Harvard.

Harvard.

I've been on this road before, I realize. It's not so far from the downtown bars I went to with friends a handful of times.

Next to me, Wolfe cups his hands over his snout-like mouth and huffs into them. Even in the SUV it's freezing, and his breath fogs in the air between the cracks in his black furred claws.

"Of all people to be cold, surely you're in no place to complain," Markus says in an English nobles accent so strong I thought it was reserved for Americans playing Jane Austen characters in movies.

"Do you get cold, Markus?" Ssu asks, cocking her head and blinking. It's then I notice her eyes are dual-pupiled, like a goat's.

Another shudder.

None of the rest of our four-person team notice.

"No, I do not," Markus says.

"So really," Wolfe says, "Of all people it's you who shouldn't complain."

Wolfe glances out the bulletproof windows of the SUV. The dead are outside in their droves. A small following gathers behind the vehicle. We're closing in.

There's a necromancer at Boston Library, and it's Zeta team's job to take him out.

"What was I saying?" Wolfe asks, looking around.

"The Ends Justify the Means," I prompt.

"Ah, right," he says. "The thing to remember is that we won't eat you, William. You're part of the team now."

"But you eat people," I say softly. "Innocents."

"If they aren't innocents, they do not sustain us," Markus says, in a voice that seems to be weighed with the same regret as mine.

"The Ends Justify the Means," Wolfe repeated.

"Right," Ssu says. "The famous Martinelli quote."

"Machiavelli," Wolfe says distractedly, glancing out the window.

These idiots are going to get me killed, or eat me. Those are my options.

I'm not impressed, I will admit. I start to sweat.

Zeta-team is supposed to be one of the best. How---

"It's from the Prince," Wolfe says, causing all three of us to look at him. He smiles. "It's from the Prince. But the quote often ignores the context that the Prince itself was not meant to be the guidebook for the conniving it's seen as today. And though he wrote it to alleviate his political exile from Florence, the barest critical eye will reveal Machiavelli's contempt for the suggestions he's now so famous for writing the literal book on."

I stared at Wolfe.

Ssu shook her head.

Markus even huffed out a laugh.

But Wolfe wasn't smiling. His eyes pulled away from the glass window as the SUV rolled to a stop.

"Let's go," he said, and stood.

That's awesome, thank you! It's my goal to write 8 prompts a month, and I'm a bit behind for February. Knowing they are being read and enjoyed gives a big push to finish the month strong :)

Looks at the Bible IT'S A COOKBOOK!

It was a day like any other when the earth shook violently and the skies suddenly turned bright. All around the globe same sight could be seen. People saw what seemed to be giant, glowing beings descending from the heavens, Angels. Angels were unlike anything anyone had ever imagined, with wings blindingly beautiful and an otherworldly radiance that seemed to emanate from their very beings. As they drew closer to the earth, people began to feel an unfamiliar discomfort.

Christians, true believers, were taken that day. Taken to eternal peace, while the rest of humanity was left to ponder their decisions. Angels circled the globe several times leaving an unfamiliar mark on people's foreheads as they left.

Everyone born after that day got the same mark. No one knew what it meant, the leading theory was that it branded them sinners, someone who would never be able to reach and experience what those people did on that holy day.

Since that day, Earth changed forever. Most people stopped looking for material success and turned towards Christianity. Years later first marks finally started disappearing and humanity found hope once again.

Five years later Angels returned once again, taking those whose markings had disappeared. That was a clear sign for humanity of what their goal should be.

Angels repeated the same process five years later and one of them spoke that they would continue to do so. Sins can be forgiven and people can be accepted and brought to heaven with them if they work hard enough, and devoted their lives to it. Almost fifteen years had passed after that holy day and humanity eagerly expected the return of the Angels once more.

All of this did not sit right with Marcus, a history teacher, who combed through every book he could find trying to decipher the strange marking. He found himself in Egypt, at ancient ruins, looking for the final clues, he was so close.

His children and wife waited for him at home, their markings gone almost a year now. His wife Vivian had begged him to leave this pursuit of his and join them, she could help him lose the mark, and become a believer. She could be his guide into eternal peace and ascension.

But Marcus could not let it go, he had to follow his gut. He brought his team of eight people with him to Egypt, and all of them shared the same feeling of uncertainty and eeriness that surrounded the Angels.

They combed through the ancient site looking for final clues, something was missing. Every translation they did reading the parts of the strange symbol made no sense.

“Boss,” Lorein yelled. “I think I have found it, come look at this.”

Carved into one of the stones was a part of the symbol that decorated most of the remaining humanity’s foreheads.

“That’s it,” Marcus said. “We have everything we need. Bring that whole block, we will have the symbol translated tonight!”

They spent the whole night translating the symbol and just before dusk they succeeded.

The message read: "Do not harvest, not fit for consumption."

It was a chilling revelation, one that sent chills through the team. The implication was clear: those who bore the marking were safe and the others were in grave danger.

Minutes later as the team was still proof-checking the earth shook once again and the sky became bright. The Angels have returned once more.

The feeling of dread and horror swept over Marcus, his wife, and children had lost their mark and he was on the other half of the planet away from them. He was right all along but he was too late, he had lost his wife and children.

One of the team members was unbothered by the revelation and angels returned and continued translating part of the stone they have found at the ruins. He finished the sentence that was written at the bottom of the stone:

“If they ever return, find me!”

part 2

part 3 - On my sub, easier to read/post as this post is getting pretty crowded.

part 4

part 5

part 6

Someone who's face-to-face with a mind-reading entity that will kill anyone who can perceive its true form

So they have to do their best to not think of any of its horrible and inhuman features and instead focus on thinking of it as human and keep details they think about consistent

And really hope that it doesn't pick up on their stress being more than just anxiety

This has to be from a first-person perspective with everything written being their internal thoughts

I'm not fully sure how you would write this so best of luck to you, I find it cool in concept but don't know how to write that kind of horror story that screams something is wrong, without having it be blatantly written out

Thank you for the prompt!

Hi u/Totally_Not_Thanos, this submission has been removed.

Simple Question / Simple Answer: You asked a simple question and you're likely to get a simple answer. Responses must be at least 100 words. Prompts should encourage a story or poem.

Feel free to repost without the question!

• This was removed based on the comments it's likely to attract, specifically via Rule 1

Modmail us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the sidebar before posting.

This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.