"Do you remember me?" she asked. She was a young woman in her late teens, early twenties. Faded black eyebrows coupled with a wavy blond wig, contacted eyes a stunning blue. She was thin, frail even, and on closer inspection, her pallid complexion was coupled with an abundance of blush applied over her body. She wore a yellow dress with sunflowers, inappropriate given the season we now were in.

I squinted my eyes uncertainly at her. "Se... lena?" I asked.

"Do you know what Hell you put me through in just sixteen-hundred words? Sixteen-hundred words was all it took to make me question my relationship with my boyfriend and to want to stalk some woman I never met before."

"Look... I'm sorry?"

"You're not sorry yet." She took a step closer to me, pulling her hair off her head and pressing it into my chest roughly. "I know what you had planned for me."

"I never even WROTE that down!" I countered, but her presence was imposing despite her diminutive stature.

She glared at me with such intensity it felt as if her gaze was boring a hole through my head. "You wanted a good-girl gone villainess? Guess what.

"Now you have one."

I was barricaded in my office when I found the gun, with it was plenty of ammo, the creatures were still slamming against the door. When I began loading the pistol I struggled to remember how I did it as a kid, I'd been hunting a handful of times as a kid and my dad always went on and on about how important knowing how to use a gun was. Of course that being over a decade ago didn't help much so I wasn't expecting much to change. Even with the gun I just hoped to be of some help before my death, I had to take as many with me as possible.

I stepped back from the door realizing it was about to break down. I wasn't sure where to aim since I wasn't exactly involved in these things creation, I wasn't exactly involved in anything being an outcast among others, but I out all people ended up barricaded in my office with a gun. So to make the most out I stood pointing the gun towards the door, the creature slamming against it every 2 seconds slam slam slam! Only this time it stopped for longer before bursting through the doorway.

It was surprisingly short about four feet tall with unnecessarily long arms, bubbly fleshy skin with clumps of fur. It had sharp claws, teeth, and blood shot eyes. It crouched on the ground cocking it's head toward me and seemed to smile before rushing at me.

I aimed the gun towards its head and the first bullet went perfectly through it's skull but the creature almost didn't react still running at me. I shot two more bullets through it's head before aiming toward it's chest, it froze as the first bullet pierced it's heart, two more bullet to the stomach left it on the ground. Six bullets and 2 seconds of silence before four more burst through the door, I managed to kill them all with a bullet to the heart each. I then stood shocked, their almost black blue blood covered the floor. Finally mustering the courage to move I headed towards the door.

I cleared the west wing with ease a shot in the heart for each creature, there were about a dozen not including the five I already killed. As I stood at the doors leading towards the rest of the facility the only thought I had was why not? I could always retreat if it was to much.

I easily cleared the rest of the facility. killing any that were alone with ease then retreating when I ran into a bigger group. Most of them stayed in groups of about five to ten. I found a few people locked in their offices that the creatures didn't notice and a bigger group that held the door closed. In total there were about twenty survivors and I probably ended up killing about fifty of them, but as I passed the dead security guards on my way to the basement where they came from, I was horrified when I saw it.

I killed fifty of them. Of course I knew some of them must have escaped into the large forrest that surrounded the facility, but the 200 empty containers that must of held them was more then some.

Isn't this just Star wars?

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I agree with your statement

You would need a lot of bananas. And so much potassium-separating infrastructure that it's a job for a whole civilization or one mad scientist with a lot of tech.

Anyway, why the peels? Most of the good isotopes are in the fruit.

I'm sure I saw a similar prompt before. But I guess that is, not wanting to sound like Thanos, inevitable.

Yeah, no worries, it was actually really helpful.

Turns out Everything Is a Heist, if you squint at it properly.

[removed]

Love it :) read as much as my ADHD brain would let me but I loved the creation.

Ok

Ah yes, self-fulfilling prophecies

I try to not read malice in other words. And if that's what let's your brain relax then write to an audience of one.

Or do what I do pretend you are a cool literary character and fix potholes you don't like.

My teacher glares as she passes me the letter. The class is silent, the whistle of the wind loud, as I stand in the center of the circle near the mound of freshly dug dirt. I take the letter from her hands, feeling guilty but unsure why.

"It seems Suhphy has played a joke," she says loud enough for the class to hear. "Looks like you'll be staying after school to explain how you did it, to myself and your mother."

I nod, embarrassed, then step back into the circle while staring at the standard envelope with my name written across the front in my own handwriting.

"Who would like to come and pull another item from the capsule," my teacher says, "it has been here a hundred years, let's not allow Suhphy's bad behavior to ruin the occasion."

Richard steps forward to pull the next item, seeming nervous, and I look back to the letter. I open it slowly, aware that those on either side of me are watching. Taking out the paper, I unfold it carefully, bending it at the middle in an attempt to hide the words.

Suhphy, this is me...you...again. We should have listened, but we didn't so please listen this time. Do not for any reason go into the school basement. It seems that once we wandered there in curiosity, and now we are stuck in this cycle. I went thinking l could break what I was told I would find. Before me, we went at the direction of a teacher. I am sure there are more stories that were not passed along, because I am not passing along every one I was told. So I will keep things simple. Just stay out of the basement.

There is a scribble, as though the writer had begun to write another line before stopping suddenly. Rebecca is standing in the center of the circle holding a wrinkled pack of cigarettes above her head, the teacher reaching for them with urgency while the other students laugh.

I throw away the letter after reading it again, not because I don't believe it, because I want to even though it feels silly to do so, but because I don't want others to read it. I sit through the after school interrogation. I shrug and remain quiet. My mother allows the questions to continue until my teacher shows unreasonable frustration, at which point my mother stops her and asks to see the letter. The look on my teacher's face appears to be anger, but I know it is embarrassment. She tells us to leave.

Six years later I am a senior, at my Homecoming dance held in the middle school since the gymnasium is brand new and the high school's is worn and musty. I dance with my friends, and allow Essa to dance closer to me, until we risk being scolded by the chaperones.

Essa and I sneak away, finding the stairs to the basement and walking down them, struggling to not allow our giggles to betray us. I remember the letter, but it feels more surreal now, the makings of a child's confused mind. A year after I read it the gym teacher had asked me to go to the basement to get supplies, and I refused. Thinking about this sends a ping of anxiety through me, until Essa takes my hand to lead me.

Our footsteps echo through the corridors. We pass a long hallway, almost running, and I think I see a distant light. Stopping, I return to the intersection, but when I look down the hall it is dark.

Essa leads, making us take three more turns, before stopping and pressing me up against a metal door. We kiss, and time slips away. Essa opens the door, guiding me through it, and we search for a light. I find the switch, and the moment the room brightens I see the figure behind Essa.

I'm not sure what the man uses as a club, but Essa is laying on the floor, and I am backing away further into the room. He has on a janitor's jumpsuit, but one that looks ancient. I expect him to pursue me, but he remains at the door. Blood is trickling from Essa's head, who lays just inside the room near the man's feet.

He takes a step back and closes the door. The room shakes, like an old engine starting up. The light brightens, and continues to brighten, until it becomes almost blinding. I run to the door but it is locked. A humming sound, deafening, fills the room. I pass out.

When I awaken, Essa is dead, and I am cold and disoriented. I try the door again, and it is open. After long terrified minutes I find the exit and escape back up into the school. The halls are empty, and as I near the main entrance I begin to realize the school looks strange. Outdated. Hallways ended where they should have continued, and there was no staircase to a second floor.

In the vestibule I see the time capsule. Looking out the small glass window on the door I see the buildings across from the school are shorter, and built with wood and brick. A long car, with an extra wheel on the side and a canvas roof, eases down the street.

Next to the capsule I see paper, pencils, and envelopes. I try to remember the letter I received years ago, now in the future, and begin to write my own.

I near the end, ready to sign my name, when I hear footsteps. I turn and look back into the building through another small window. The man is walking toward me, his outfit now suited to his surroundings.

I fold the letter and place it in an envelope, writing my name quickly on the front. I drop it into the capsule. Anxious, I try the door, fearing it is locked. It is not. I burst into this old world, running hard away from the school, uncertain what comes next.

Yeah, I believe they're just wary of newcomers trying to insert straight into the Wiki. It's forums first, then sandbox, then it gets into the Wiki.

I'm still scared how many new articles are there now. When I learned of the Wiki, there were just a bit over a thousand I think.

Then there was also a big purge, where a lot of popular articles were thoroughly cleaned up, and most mentions of godlike doctors were removed, because they seemed to start taking over everything with their self-inserts. Plus some of them were "handed over" to other Organizations. And still... Thousands.

Impressive.

Or the oldest house. Or whatever it's called.

You had the baby carefully hidden in your robes, it was lucky the baby looked like you. He had your same black hair that never stayed in place, the same brown eyes, and the same skin that was so pale it looked translucent.

You quickly made your way to the cave where your sister, Lucia, greeted you. You quickly rushed past her causing the baby to cry, but you ran into your room.

"Be quiet little one, Aunt Lucia mustn't see you yet. She will have to act as your mother until we can find another way to sustain you." You said trying to calm the baby down.

But he surprised when you slipped into his thoughts you could see redness of vampiric desire.

"It can't be. How can you be the last..." then you realize.

"You must be mine and Marie's son, but see told me that she wasn't pregnant."

'Why would she lie to me, I thought she wanted the vampiric line to continue. Now the vampiric line will continue it won't end with King Sorcen the Failure. That's what I've been called all my life now you will be the next king. King Arthern.'

‐--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Thank you for reading, I might continue this story later. I specialize in short stories and I'm always in need of prompts so I think I found the right Subreddit. Also as you can tell I'm horrible at coming up with names, so please share some with me.

I love how one of the voice actors accidentally said "passport" instead of "pass card"/"ID badge", and they kept making fun of him for it the rest of the game.

Look, a rope!

*test chambuuuur

"that was... kinda neat."

Not really. Gordon is a trained professional. He has training thanks to the HEV suit course. The suit even has a weapons recognition system that tells Gordon how many bullets are left.

Nice writing, and I like the fun, offbeat humor! It reminds me of Douglas Adams’ work, especially after your clever allusion with the towel. 👍 Upvoted.

Gordon Freeman

"Honey Trap?"

"Yes?"

"I'm starting to think you might be right."

Honey Trap and I were staring at a hole we had accidentally blown into an abandoned building during one of our usual throwdowns. But instead of there being furniture or an empty room behind it, there was just a void filled with floating binary code. As the hole filled itself back in, Honey Trap rolled her eyes and said, "Goodness me, the great Stormrunner thinks I'm right. She has finally conceded to the notion she may have been wrong this whole time. What a day this is."

"I can do without the sarcasm, thank you." I took a seat on the curb and continued, "But what I don't get is why go to the trouble of making everything so...lifelike?"

Honey Trap took a seat next to me and pulled a notepad seemingly out of nowhere. "I had a lot of theories when I started questioning this. But after a while, I realized everything kept coming back to one thing." HT flipped the notepad to a page with only a single thing on it: the words 'July 2019' circled multiple times. "Try and remember something from that month. Anything."

I shrugged and did as she said. Immediately, I was doubled over from the stabbing pain that was shooting through my head. "FUCK ME! That was like a combined hangover from every drop of alcohol I've ever had in my life! What was that?!"

"That's what happened to me every time I tried to remember. I actually passed out from the pain a couple of times. Whatever's going on here has something to do with that period of time. Just wish we could figure out how to get out of this fucking place already."

As I slowly got to my feet, I responded, "Solution's obvious, isn't it? We just crash the simulation. If they're keeping me of all people trapped here, then this place is probably designed to feed off of my electricity. But I'm willing to bet it can't handle all of my power. You might want to get to a safe distance."

HT nodded and ran into a shop on the other side of the street. I closed my eyes and felt the storm inside my soul. I felt the power build up and up, reaching a crescendo of rain, wind, thunder, and most importantly, lightning. With a mighty cry, I fired a bolt that could have given power to the entire globe four times over.

Suddenly, I wasn't in a city anymore. I was in some kind of laboratory, strapped to a table with suction cupped-wires stuck to my head as a man frantically typed away at a destroyed computer terminal. I ripped them off and sat up with a growl. "You want me to call IT?"

The man shrieked and turned around, revealing himself to be wearing a demon mask with half of its face scarred. Honey Trap's ex-boyfriend, Baphomet. As Baphomet tried to back away, he said to me, "H--hey now, Stormy! Don't do anything you might regret!"

I cracked my knuckles in response and said, "What, like dick-punching the asshole who trapped me in a computer for a week and tricked me into thinking I'd been there for years? You're right, I would regret that." I glanced behind him and smiled. "After all, I wouldn't want to deprive her of the fun."

Baphomet glanced behind him in horror just in time for Honey Trap to spray him with her paralysis perfume, kick him in the back of the head and say, "That's for tricking me into thinking I was a villain."

I followed suit with the dick-punch I promised and looked at Honey Trap with a smile. "July 16th, 2019."

Honey Trap wrapped her arms around me and purred, "The day we got married," before yanking me in for a kiss.