A killer stalks you. Too bad they don’t know that you are a powerful witch.

First contact with an alien species.

Math 100 is a huge class. Easily 200 students in a big lecture hall. Even in that sea of people, she stood out to me.

Long jet black hair, black nail polish, black lipstick, lots of real leather both on her clothes and for her accessories, knee high black boots with a heavy sole. No one dressed like her and no one looked like her. She did her own thing in a room bursting with conformity.

She asked sharp questions, in a soft but commanding voice, in class. Her questions brought clarity to everyone who listened.

She sat in the same spot every class but didn’t mingle with those around her. She was alone but didn’t come off as lonely.

I occasionally saw her on the campus quad, usually under the shade of a big elm tree. Never doing anything, just sitting and basking in being outside.

It’s not that I was stalking her or anything - I just always seemed to notice her when she was about. Just about her, always captures my attention.

—————————

“Dude,” Justin says as we are walking through the quad, “you are staring at her again.”

“I am not staring. I am just…. noticing her… sitting there,” I said defensively.

“You need to go say ‘hi’ already. Your noticing is starting to get creepy.”

He was right. I was staring too much, too often.

“Fine! Fine! I will go talk to her,” I said, trying to convince myself this wasn’t a horrible idea. I walked across the lush green grass of the quad. There were students lounging around, some playing frisbee, some just goofing off. It was easily my favourite place on campus.

I walked towards the tree she was under, I could still veer off, I could still bail out - should I? Fuck I am getting close I gotta -

“Hi,” she said simply as I got close. “I was wondering if you were going to get the nerve to talk to me.” She was smiling a bright genuine smile that lit up her face.

I awkwardly sat down opposite her.

“You noticed, huh?” I said, running my hand through my hair.

“You aren’t exactly subtle,” she says still smiling.

We chat the afternoon away. Little things - our majors, what dorms we are in, our professors… all of the usually university chit chat. She was easy to talk to. So comfortable in her own skin - in who she is.

We talked through my 3pm class and through her 4pm class. We were both enjoying ourselves in a way that I have never had while talking to someone else. It just all felt so right.

“I should get going,” I finally said, glancing at my watch. “I have volleyball practice and my coach will tear a strip off of me if I am late.”

I stand up and offer her a hand up. She takes its. Her hand is warm. It is unexpectedly calloused, like someone who does lots of work with their hands, and much stronger than I expected. I pull her up.

“See you tomorrow, in math class,” she says with a wink. She takes a step and then leans against the tree, letting out a little grunt.

“Hey, you ok?” I am instantly worried for her.

She hangs her head and takes a couple of deep breaths.

“Fine. I am fine,” she lies.

She is clearly not alright.

“I will walk you to your dorm. I have time,” she starts to protest, “Don’t. I will walk you. Can’t have you passing out half way there.”

She takes my arm in hers and we walk to her dorm.

The chit chat has died out and she looks apprehensive. Scanning the quad - she is tense and on edge.

The sun is dipping behind the campus buildings, casting the quad into premature twilight. The lamp posts flicker and come to life - one by one.

I keep trying to get her talking but I am just getting one syllable answers. Something has her preoccupied.

We are almost at the dorms. There is a rustling over by the dumpsters. She freezes. Tension runs through her body and I can feel it in her arm. Her breathing speeds up.

“It’s ok, we are almost there. It is just a couple more metres,” I say reassuringly.

A shadow separates itself from the dumpster. Must be someone dumpster diving. Seems harmless. The shadow starts coming towards us, walking then running.

She brushes my arm off and squares herself to the shadow.

“Fuck,” she mutters under her breath. She drops her backpack and stand with her legs shoulder width apart and her arms loose. Her hands start to glow in a bluish white light.

The shadow is clearly a man, about our age, running towards us. His face is covered in messy rotten food.

“Die! Witch!” He yells.

She swirls her hands around and then suddenly pushes them out from her centre. A ball of bluish white light blasts off from her hands and hits him in the chest. He staggers and then falls to his knees.

She runs to him, spinning her right arm, windmill style. The bluish white light gathers on her hand. She leaps at him - just as she is about to land the light from her hand lashes out like a blade - slicing him in half.

Stunned - I shake my head and walk over to her.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she says panting.

Looking at the guy, sliced cleanly in half, lying on the ground in front of her and then back to her.

“What the hell is going on?” I say, terrified.

She takes a knee in front of the body. “Ghoul,” she says. “It was rooting around in the dumpster for rotten food. They usually feed on dead animals and people but anything filled with decay will do in a pinch.”

Her eyes never left the body as she spoke. A soft light emanated from her hands. She pressed them to the ground in front of the body. The grass started to glow. The glowing spread and enveloped the ghoul as well. Then the whole thing gets swallowed up by the grass.

She stood up and looked into my wild eyed face. She smiled slightly.

“I am Angela and I am a witch,” she gave a slight tilt to her head, “I don’t usually tell people in such a dramatic fashion but ghouls are an abomination that have to be dealt with. They will corrupt everything they touch. It had to be dealt with.”

“Ok,” I said simply. Somehow I wasn’t bothered or even phased by this. I handed her the backpack she dropped and we walked to her dorm.

I open the door for her.

“You good?” She asked as she went in the door. “You have been awful quite since…. Since the ghoul.”

“I am good,” I said with a smile. “You didn’t need me to walk you back at all. Did you?”

“No, but it is very sweet,” she said with a smile. “See you tomorrow?”

“You know it!”

She gave me a quick peck on the cheek and headed into the dorm.

Your mother/father gave you a thermos when you were a young kid. Whenever you've bought a new thermos, they always mysteriously disappear. Today you bought a new thermos and set up a camera to find out why.

"Oh, here we go again," I said, as yet another goddamn middle-aged Japanese man came storming into my office. "Hello," I said. "Welcome to the Osaka Branch of the Heavenly Love Warrior Office. My name is Ker-"

"You fucking monster!" the fat ugly bastard shouted. He got up all in my face and pointed his finger at my nose. "How DARE you recruit my daughter to fight your wars! Why, if I had a gun I'd. . ."

"Oh, FUCK OFF!" I snarled back. "You think I like it any better? Listening to helium-voiced little Japanese girls going 'kyaa!' and 'mouuuuu' and whining about how fighting monsters is going to ruin their date with some mealy-mouthed preteen boy with a mashed-potato sandwich personality? But if you haven't noticed, you self-righteous prick, THIS IS A MAGICAL GIRL UNIVERSE!"

The fat old fuck immediately recoiled in shock, the world behind him turning jet black with a single line of light slashing through it. "GAAACK!" he gasped. "I never THOUGHT OF THAT!"

"Well, you SHOULD have! Like it or not, we are NOT the main characters here! Your daughter. . . who is your daughter, again?"

"K-kumiko Nakagawa," the old fucker sweated.

"Ah. Magical Love Archer Cutie Sweet Cupid. She's fantastic, by the way. . . ANYWAY! This is NOT about you being protective of your daughter. This is NOT about me supposedly 'needing warriors' to fight against monsters from the Hate Dimensions. What this is about is Kumiko. This is her journey of growth and discovery. HER allegory for the struggles and tribulations of growing from girlhood into adulthood. And you are NOT going to ruin that for her by being overprotective, just as you HAVE been since her mother passed away!"

"She's fighting MONSTERS!" the bald fuck whined.

"And she's KICKING THEIR ASSES!" I pointed out. "She's gaining confidence in her ability to stand up for herself and face her fears. You and I might prefer if she never had to do that, but given that this is a magical girl series, she's gonna fight monsters, and she's doing an excellent job of it." I glared at him over the tops of my magical glasses. "And don't think you're gonna get away with buying a gun and fighting the demons yourself or some shit. Hate Dimension Demons can only be defeated by the True Light of Love from the Sweet Cupid Arrow Strike."

"She's my daughter," the old man complained. "I worry about her."

"Then why the fuck aren't you talking to her about this? You know, the way a real parent would? Supporting her through her struggles, listening to her problems, being there when she needs you? But no. You have to go and lash out like some big macho man without considering her feelings first. Dick."

Kumiko's dad sweated silently for a moment. "Does she HAVE to wear that short skirt?" he asked plaintively.

"Magical Love Archer Cutie Sweet Cupid's outfit is a reflection of what she views as maturity and power. Which in your daughter's case, does happen to be a short skirt, similar to one worn by the pop idols and music stars she idolizes. I know that doesn't reflect well on how our culture views female maturity, but I'm just here to defeat the Hate Dimensions, not undo thousands of years of cultural baggage."

The bald guy stood up and walked to the door of my office. He paused with one hand on the door. "You're not some intergalactic monster who's secretly harvesting my daughter's misery for power, are you?"

". . . No. Get out."

He did. I buried my face in my hands. "Fucking Kyuubey ruining this shit for the rest of us. . . Old fashioned, wholesome magical girl agencies can't do shit these days." I sighed.

Good story.

Nice.

Thank you!

Good job.

“This is Bullshit!!!” I exclaimed as I slammed the door. Why does it always seem to be me?

I am nothing but a disappointment to my family. Being born a Larkspur, one of the oldest and most powerful of the Demonic families, meant there was a lot of pressure on me from a young age. My dad has killed 23 warlocks, finding weaknesses in their containment spells or contracts and getting revenge for their audacity in trying to control him. He is a legend. My mom doesn’t have as many kills (only 12), but she literally wrote the book on overcoming computer based protections. With two parents of such prestige, a powerful family, and graduating at the top of my class, everyone expected big things from me. But somehow my very first placement was enough to undo all that I had going for me.

Many demons just go about their life in the Inferno of Infinite Torment with no ambition beyond being comfortable and making it through the next day. But most of us want more. We want to be called forth to the other realms and make a name for ourselves. We have our name leaked into those other worlds so other beings can summon us. We want to be feared by those lesser life forms and prove our strength to our fellow Demons. I want those things. I need them.

But then it happened. Thanks to some incompetent (and now skinless) imp in Human Rendition, my true name was leaked instead of my chosen name. So now instead of being a terrifying beast from the Inferno I am fully within the control of a witch. A very young witch. A very young, very annoying witch. Before I made it out of the HR office I felt the itch behind my knees that signaled a summoning, and I was pulled away.

“SPARKLES!” the little nightmare shouted as I materialized into her plane of existence. I looked down and see that I am in a pink tutu, bright red clown shoes, and a bowtie. “Welcome back Sparkles, I missed you so much! We are having a tea party, but I need your help. The adults said we can’t have hot tea because it is dangerous. But they didn’t know I have a big spooky imaginary friend like you to keep me safe. Please warm up our tea, since everyone knows hot tea is way fancier and more better than cold tea.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------

“Doctor, do you ever think he will come out of it?” asked Mrs. Larkspur.

“I think not, for he is trapped in a prison within his own mind. We don’t know what prompted his psychosis, but at this point it seems to be self sustaining,” said the doctor.

They both walked out of the room together, leaving the big brown teddy bear screaming into the padded walls of his room, still wearing his pink tutu, bright red clown shoes, and bowtie. “Goodbye Sparkles, mommy loves you.” She then walked down the hallway, hardly hearing her son’s muffled screams about an itch behind his knee.

See, this is the kind of cult I want to join.

A depressed person sitting on a bench, wondering if the ants eating his crumbs liked his shitty sandwich more than he did.

[deleted]

Nearly everything about the two clashed, but even on the battlefield, love can bloom. The only thing that was on their side was just that - they fought for the same side. Lennana was a Captain of the Mage Brigade, and Ezek was a Second Lieutenant of the Magiblade Militia. The Mage Brigade was rather prestigious, in that it required both extensive training and it was typically made of lower nobility. The Magiblade Militia was made of any conscripts - almost all commoners - that showed skill with swords and any traces of magic on them.

Somewhere in the chaos on the Western front, the two found themselves isolated, together, without the accompaniment of their charges. They were surrounded.

"A terrible day to die," remarked Lennana as she summoned forth two balls of lightning in her hands, magic crackling and jumping about with reckless abandon. Her back was up against Ezek's, who had his tell-tale scimitar drawn.

"I'm not willing die today, miss," he said politely, sweat trickling down his brow.

"Oh no," Lennana said with a smile in her voice. "I meant them."

"In that case, let's make short work of them and get back to the main fight."

"My dear," she said charmingly. "We are the main fight!"

She thrust her hands forward, lightning balls flinging at two people. The electricity chained and extended to a few nearby enemy recruits who collapsed to their feet. He charged forward and sliced at whoever he could see wearing a brown-and-green uniform. Blood sprayed across his face and clothing.

"Tch! Fall back!"

"Everyone! FALL BACK!"

The enemy began to retreat, and Ezek went to give chase. Before he could get very far, Lennana caught his wrist. "Let them go, and we'll live another day... what is your name?"

"Ezek. Yours?" he asked, still full of energy and desire to fight.

"Lennana of House Mieran."

"Forgive my boldness, my lady," Ezek said, lowering his gaze as he turned to face her.

She chuckled softly and leaned in to press a kiss to his forehead. "Forgive my boldness instead." When he looked up, startled, she gave a playful wink. "I can't resist a strong-willed man in uniform."

"But I... but we... we can't..."

"Stay in touch, dear." She hurried off to meet with her brigade. Even in the distance, he could hear her sweet voice barking, "None of you idiots better have any injuries, I swear, or else I'm going to-"

Her words faded as she got further away, or perhaps it was the sound of his own heart racing in his ears that distracted him. He looked down at his scimitar. He hoped he wouldn't have to use it on any of his militia today. They liked to try and escape duty. He walked towards a tree and briefly rested his arm up against it, and his head on his forearm, as he stared at the ground beneath them.

Was she just playing with him? Or was something more going to come of this? Would he rebuke- no. No he wouldn't. He couldn't, even if she wasn't a noblelady. He knew that by the warmth blossoming in his chest and the desire he felt shifting. If this really was to pan out, they could both be charged with treason; relations between those in the military was strictly forbidden.

"Gods help me."

She is the miracle worker and I am the shock and awe. Magic and technology, in synergy.

A slice of buttered bread is falling to the floor.

"They finally got me," is what I thought at first. I mean I had betrayed all the big families with the coke deal in Europe that was a scam. I saw them tailing me down 6th avenue on my way out of town. I jumped out of the car only to get nabbed by the CIA who kept calling me Vlad and yacking at me in russian. It's this spy versus spy stuff. My disguise for the mafia got me pegged by the CIA! I'm in a transport to DC. They think I'm Russian. I haven't said a word or taken off my disguise. I don't plan to until I get to DC. Until then I'll day dream about the story I'm going to give them and the $50 million I stole from the mafia.

[removed]

Some friends you haven't seen since college just dropped by unannounced

The name you gave it was almost exactly what I was thinking when I made the prompt! Amazing prologue you really hooked me.

I really enjoyed reading this, I am intrigued by the unique way you took the story, I liked it.

"I have a lot of questions."

"I bet you do."

I rubbed my face and tried to collect my thoughts. "First off," I asked while trying to stay calm, "does your "chosen warrior" have to be a teenage girl?"

The cat...fox...creature shuffled around a bit before replying, "Well, no, but-".

"Then WHY HER?!"

"BECAUSE I HAD NO OTHER CHOICE, DAMMIT!"

"YOU HAD NO OTHER CHOICE BUT A TEENAGER?!"

The two of us stared daggers at each other for what felt like forever until it finally spoke up again. "Normally, we would gather the greatest warriors from across the land and put them through various trials to see who among them were worthy to receive our blessings. But that was centuries ago, and now..."

"Welcome to the modern world," I fired back.

The creature seemed to ignore my remark and continued. "Between the urgency of the situation and my unfamiliarity with the 'modern world' as you put it, I was at a loss - where would I even begin my search for a champion, much less find one so quickly?"

"So you just picked some random person off the street?"

The beast leapt onto a nearby table and stared me down. "Do you know how your daughter and I first met?" he replied. "She came to rescue me from thugs possessed by the dark powers I've sworn to fight against. Well, tried to, at least.

"I didn't want to choose her, truly - too young, too reckless, too eager to use underhanded tactics. But she was a damn sight more noble and worthy than those men and women that claim to be 'defenders of the peace'."

"You mean the police?" I asked. "Cause yeah, they're a mixed bag at best."

The creature jumped down and paced around. "So there's your answer," it concluded. "She was my only option given the circumstances."

As if on cue, the front door option and Jessica walked in, looking so exhausted that she was ready to collapse at any moment. She muttered something under her breath when she caught sight of us and stopped. "I'm in trouble, aren't I?" she weakly asked.

"No, but we need to talk."

Okay. So are hiring Beta testers yet??

Did the White men not teach your mommy how to ask questions?

LOL

Would be an interesting twist.

The older Olivia Jordon sat outside her daughter’s door sipping her ‘mamma juice.’ She listened to all the questions her daughter spouted out, “almost” feeling sorry for the big rube. Sure it had cost her her soul, it’s not like she used it anyways.

Olivia returned to the living room straightening her Harvard law degree. “Don’t mess with the best,” were her last words before she plopped down in the sofa and drifted off to her first good nap in the last three years.