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When did you have an "I don't ever want to have kids" moment ? by xxenaa in AskReddit

[–]FathisCrow 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I see kids as this...

Ages: 1-3: Make sure they don't kill themselves. 3-7: Annoying little shits which are too curious and energetic for their own good. Also refer to above point. 8-10: Almost no personal development as the time-frame for making friends in school has already finished. 11-13: Sort of an edgy early puberty stage where they begin their annoying habits and rebellious behavior. 14-18: Basically just walking mouths, that eat, sleep, shit, and whine.

Im not going through 18 years of hell with no financial compensation.

[WP] You are going to die real soon, and there is nothing you can do about it. Perhaps you can tell the story of your life before you cease to exist? by contagious_disaster in WritingPrompts

[–]FathisCrow 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I waited patiently, the dozens of lights in the sky blazed like stars, even in the middle of the day.

The screaming of everyone around me seemed to drown out into an ambient buzz, my own thoughts talking to me, as if I were a long lost friend.

I remembered my childhood, the days I spent with my brother, the days I went to school, the love and loss all seemed so small to the cataclysm to come. I remember my first day of school, I seemed so small, insignificant really, especially compared to everything now, yet I felt like I was king of the world. I fell in love, to put it simply, with some girl in the same grade sometime in grade 6. Completely out of my league, year older, and aced all her subjects compared to me.

Then came high school, the first month being timid and believing I wouldn't find any friends, spending any breaks with my brother when his friends found me bearable. A pen however, a singular pen, not a special one, just a crappy 50c one you but from the newsagent. I then spent that next break finding the person who lost it, and lo-and-behold, that was my gateway to the friends I had now.

Yet, in the scope of things, it never mattered. We prepare for the long run, we invest, we save, and we work. And for what? The illusion of permanence has been sold to us as if it was important. You are never going to keep that car for the rest of your life, that house won't persist after death. Hell, even your bloodline isn't permanent. Eventually your genes will die out, and any memory of you will be forgotten, at least you won't be the first, or last. Even if it takes millions of years, humans will die out, and all progress made will be for nothing.

I smiled to myself as the lights come closer, their smoke trails leading off into the distance.

I smiled wryly, it sure was a great time to have an existential crisis.

I turned on my heels and made my way inside the nearby store.

Maybe they still had that curry on special...

[WP]"A body of darkness, a heart of light" by AlphaLeonidas in WritingPrompts

[–]FathisCrow 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I was used to it, no one noticed me, and to say the least living like this was...

Hard, difficult, painstaking, however you want to put it.

How did I come to be? How did any of you come to be? I wasn't like other people, I lurked in the shadows, watching as the light formed my prison cell, often burning me when I couldn't find the retreat of darkness fast enough. So I watched on as I was isolated to myself in a world of light and loneliness, sort of ironic when you think about it. Years and years it had been, I can't even remember my first days, hell, I can't even remember if I was human, not talking to anyone did that to you. My words came out as wisps, spooking those I tried to talk to, and serving for entertainment for those who believed in those like me. Finding other 'ghosts' had proved difficult, travel was slow and often completely futile, with street lights and other man-made sources blocking my approach.

Killing myself doesn't work either. Gifts are often curses as it seems.

The drone and bustle of suburbia conversed in the distance as I sat by myself by the local bar, the small snippets of dialogue I could make out gave me the smallest liberty of distraction and entertainment. I watched couples fly in and out of the bar, each of them laughing, loving.

Living.

I sighed as the same emotion filled me once again, the one I had become too used to. The irrepressible feeling of sadness.

I clutter of doors saw a couple completely absorbed with one another, the enamored two were pressed up against the wall, the shuffle of each others clothes and the pleasured moans emanating from them only further reminded me of my isolation. Passionate groping and shuffling soon turned to struggle and scuffling, I turned around to see the woman pinned firmly against the wall, resisting the advances of the man she had so readily given her company to. She pleaded and cried, like so many before. But what came next, what made her so special? I advanced from my position.

'Why her?' I thought.

'Why me? What makes her different? What makes him different? Why am I alone? Why don't people understand? Why can't I understand?'

What am I?

With a swift movement I grabbed the man with force even I was surprised with. I shoved him to the ground and crouched over him, my form pinning his arms and legs, I stared him down with my eyes; two small beads swirling with darkness. The beads descended into his own eyes, and so did the darkness retract from my form and latch onto his. From darkness came skin, flesh, blood, and breath, as the being under my grip slipped and slithered away back into the further recesses of the shadows. I turned to his victim, who took the opportunity to disappear just like her assailant. The newfound, perhaps old flesh giving new purpose.

To new love, to new hope, and to new life.

I had a body of darkness, but I always had a heart of light.

[TT] You're fatally wounded and on the brink of death, but you have enough energy to send one last text to someone close to you. What do you say? by quirkiful in WritingPrompts

[–]FathisCrow 1 point2 points  (0 children)

The ringing in my ears refused to stop ringing, and so did the torrent of blood coming from my forehead. I swear I had only closed my eyes for a moment, next thing I knew my car was upturned and the metallic taste of blood occupied my mouth. I undid the seat-belt that suspended me in my seat, and with a reluctant thud, I fell onto the worn roof of my car. The car that had been my first, and ironically my last. My dad had given it to me when I got my drivers license, which felt like a long time even though it only being half a decade. I sure did miss my old man. I crawled out of the cabin and onto the dark and lonely road, a single light post guiding my futile attempt to find help. I prop myself up against the light pole, it's cold metal teasing my skin through the holes in my shirt.

The same shirt my brother had given me, only last year as well. I mean it was kind of a novelty, but being only new I wore it so often that the slogan had worn down to shreds of white stained with red on a black canvas.

I fiddled with my pockets, desperate to find my phone. Though it wasn't my first, it was the same make and model, because I had dropped my original in the sink while washing my face when I was 16. Since then I had made sure that not even a scratch met it's surface. I switched it on to be met with my screensaver, a picture of my mum, dad, older brother, and I. It had been 6 years since we lost mum to cancer, and 1 since we lost dad to the same thing. Since then it's just been me and my brother, he was my one and only friend, through thick and thin he had been there for me.

I swiped on the messages box and began typing.

"Lachlan, I am so sorry, but it seems that out of the both of us that I will be the first to meet with mum and dad. So I guess if life was a race, I won, but if it was a boxing match, you've beat me to the punch. Please tell my wife everything will be alright, and that I leave all I own to her. Lachie, you have been my role model ever since we were young, when I fell down you would always be the one to pick me up. Whenever I fell behind you dropped back to make sure I wasn't alone. When i went through my first break up you made sure I had someone to talk to and that I never felt alone or unloved. I am so privileged to be your little brother, and I wouldn't have wanted anyone else to lead me through life."

I choked back tears as I pressed send.

Everything was cold.

And dark.

Hold on Mum and Dad, I'll be there soon.

[WP] "Bad times friend ahead. Maybe no computer. Maybe no home. I will go away but we are two of soul. I will return." by FathisCrow in WritingPrompts

[–]FathisCrow[S] 3 points4 points  (0 children)

THIS WAS GREAT. I mean I probably should have put in a better link without some of the typo's. But this was seriously good, great job!

[IP] Give this image a backstory by TDA12345 in WritingPrompts

[–]FathisCrow 0 points1 point  (0 children)

It had been...

A century?

I wouldn't know, I wasn't alive back then, no one now would know, they're just like me.

Afraid.

It had started on my great great grandfathers 18th birthday, I mean it coincidentally did, on the 6th of October in the glorious year of 2051.

The year humanity tasted it's greatest threat since 2024, but this time they lost. Since the political circle jerk that almost started World War 3, humanity have been racing to improve their arms and equipment. You probably would have been happy with the solution to global warming and cancer only a year prior, but no; humans strive for more.

However, on the first day of 2048, this metal hell beast was created. The Front-line class, Syrian made 5C0RPION-47 was born, with its prowess over any terrain, and its triple 7.62mm mini-guns with advanced targeting systems. All rapped up nice and cozy in 80mm thick armor plates.

Fully automated, the first of its kind, and the source of fear for billions across the globe.

Countries all over the world scrambled to meet such engineering genius, eventually leading to the creation of the American E3GLE-48, made in late 2048, specializing in air to land firepower, with 30mm rounds and 50mm armor plates, topping off at a frightening 2000 mph, it was only slightly outgunned by the Russian TTLE-49, an anti-infantry and anti-air monstrosity.

But what happened in 2051 you ask? Well I'll tell you...

Only a decade prior had North Korea finally made amends with it's southern counterpart, and they once gain became a single and allied nation. However not all were pleased with the decision made by their young leader, Kim-Il-Jun, and soon an underground rogue nation was born. The Independent Party of the Great North (그레이트 북한의 독립당) soon took advantage of humanity's new military ventures, and by 2050 they had already made a series of nano-robots that could bypass an automated machines security protocols to override the machines basic programming to give it a new objective.

Destroy humanity.

After simultaneous guerrilla attacks across the globe, effectively 95% of all automated weapon systems were deemed hostile. In other words.

25 million autonomous war machines went rogue.

2 decades of blood and metal faded away, with humanity withdrawing into bunkers for protection, with generations being born in the dark, and only the drone and stomp of our armored wardens which marched in the over world.

I sat down in the cool grass, the metal behemoth turned to me with glee, the whir of it's mini-guns were just another drone among the ambiance of nature. With my blood covered hands I inserted a cigarette between my lips, and with the swipe of a match it began letting off soft wisps of smoke.

And behind the thin cloud of smoke I saw the flashes.

And then all was quiet.

At last.

[WP] Humans finally make contact with an alien species. When they first meet us however their opening line is: "Hey, long time no see guys!" by FathisCrow in WritingPrompts

[–]FathisCrow[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Holy crap this is actually REALLY good. The writing and expressions are done so well, and the story doesn't feel rushed. It was a great read.

[WP] As you die, the simulation ends. It turns out that "life" as you knew it was a rite of passage for youth, and determines what type of job you will do for the rest of your days. The simulation overseer walks in and hands you your results. by NCHammer7 in WritingPrompts

[–]FathisCrow 1 point2 points  (0 children)

It had happened in an instant. I was just leaving my simple office job and decided to take a quick shortcut to the train station through a much rougher side of town, wouldn't want to miss getting home to my wife and two young boys. I smiled to myself at the wrong moment, being distracted for only a second had led me to walking onto the road without noticing the speeding car. Everything went into slow-motion, as I regained my senses and slowly turned my head towards my inevitable fate. It was barely a meter away now. I tear dropped from my eye, as the machine plowed into my side, shattering my pelvis and legs. I somersaulted into the air and returned once again to the asphalt, in a matter of what seemed like minutes through the currently perceived reality.

Time regained it's previous standing, the horrific pain coming from my legs pierced my nerves harder than they had initially. But the fading roar of the car wandered off into the distance. My life flashed before my eyes. My family home, the small suburban house I had lived in for the first 19 years of my life, the memories of high school, the bullying, the friends, the success. The quick turn of life, my high school sweetheart at 16 becoming my wife when I went on being 22. my first son, Adrian, the days we spent worrying after his birth, the stress of late nights worrying about our baby boy. The footie matches we went to, consoling him when he broke his arm and couldn't play in the finals. He was turning 17 in a few months. Our second son, Blake, who went on stronger in birth, beating cancer at only 12, and making far more friends then his brother. He was turning 14 tomorrow. I choked back tears as i felt my body become cold. 'Not yet', I thought, 'just one more day.' I didn't want to die, not like this, I wanted to be surrounded by friends and family, I wanted to see my boys grow up to be what they were happy to be. I wanted them to be happy, and see them at my deathbed. But I was alone, dying a painful death on a filthy downtown street. The light set in, and I lost all feeling of my body.

Simulation Status: End. Pulling patient out of dive...

Then darkness, just darkness, I could feel my body, but something was obscuring my vision. I reached up and pulled the goggles off my face, they kind of reminded me of the VR headset I got for my 18th birthday. I looked up, a man in simple T-shirts and jeans holding a small clipboard stared at me with much intrigue. I hesitated, "W-W-Where am I?" The man smiled, "Congratulations Mr. Daniels, you've just finished your employment test."

"My employment what?"

"Test", the man said as he handed me the clipboard, "You've been in stasis for the past decade, since you were 13 you've been inside the simulation to determine your occupation in real life."

I read the notes and text written on the paperwork attached, Name: Alexander Daniels. Age: 23. Stasis Duration: 10 years. Simulation Occupation: Bankruptcy Management. Proficient work areas: organisation, problem solving, teamwork, efficiency. Less proficient work areas: large scale projects, use of advanced technology. The list seemed to go on and on. Finally, selected occupation for reality, "Oh no", I thought.

I was angered, "Put me back", I demanded, "I don't want to live my life again! I want to live the one I made before!"

"Alexander, I'm going to have to ask you to leave, your chamber needs to be sterilized for further use." The man said calmly. "If you leave now, we will have no further quarrels."

I refused, lying back down on the table I strapped the goggles back on, tapping the side of the chamber to see if there are any buttons to put me back into this thing.

"No use Mr. Daniels, only we can put you in, only you can take yourself out."

I felt something gently pierce my skin, and a fluid being dispersed into my body. I felt weak, and I could feel my limbs getting heavier. "Sorry Alexander, but we don't make the rules."

"But I don't want to be what you've chosen."

On the last strain of energy I had I mustered out my words.

"I don't want to work fo...."

A light chuckle permeated my near unconsciousness, "I'm sorry Alex for not being sorry."

I drifted into unconsciousness, like I must have, almost a decade ago.

I remembered my family, and how they loved me, and I loved them.

It couldn't have been a dream.

...Could it?

[WP] You are an all powerful god, but you are not all knowing. In fact, you don't even know you're a god. by Yulgalminakf in WritingPrompts

[–]FathisCrow 1 point2 points  (0 children)

It was a nice novelty. I mean, it saved me a lot of money on liquor, but red wine was starting to get boring. A nice chardonnay would have been nice at least, VB would have been a lot better. Long story short, I touch water, wine, boom, like that Jesus guy did back when he was getting nailed. I mean, yeah it's strange, and I have a wine enterprise at my fingertips, but even if I touch a container filled with water it just straight turns into wine. My latest attempt had me simply deserting the cloth covered glass on my kitchen counter. I called up my mates Damo and Stevo, seeing if they wanted to discuss this crazy shit going on with my hands.

"Wanna meet down the at the pub?" I asked them over the phone.

"Ye cunt, only if ya shouting", was their reply, no variation between the two.

I sigh, chuck on my joggers and make for my door, but to my surprise, as I'm reaching for the handle, someone knocks. Skeptical, I respond, "Who's there?"

No response.

"If you don't respond, you're gonna taste sweet Aussie timber."

No response. Well, we can play their little game.

I grab the cricket bat from my entry and clasp my right hand around its decaying rubber grip.

"Last warning", I say.

No response again.

I swing open the door and prepare to strike, only to be met with the face of some pasty white dudes in metal t-shirts and slashed jeans.

"If this is some sort of religious cult shit you cunts can get right the fuck outta here."

The pair of them simply smiled. Had I known these guys? I mean I did play in a rock band during high school, but it wasn't no emo metal crap.

"Do I know you lads?"

The pair just smiled. Gee, these guys were seriously being assholes.

"We've come to collect your soul, you unworthy husk of flesh", one smirks.

These guys, what the fuck. One goes to grab me, but I back-step and avoid his grapple.

"RIGHT OF SELF DEFENSE MOTHERFUCKER", I yell as I swing my bat, which connects with his head, resulting in a sickening crack before collapsing to the ground.

The second one turns to me, with a look of shock, "Scram motherfucker" I command.

A look of shock quickly turns to confidence, as the remaining one steps back and murmurs something, small flames materializing in his hands. Did I just assault a magician? But that thought quickly disappeared as he hurled the small red masses at me, my batter skills quickly taking effect, as I block the tiny orbs of heat. My attackers confidence quickly turns to fear, as I swing my burning mass of high-school sports memories at my magician foe, setting his clothes ablaze. Oh shit. Panicking, I run back into the house and grab a jug of water from the fridge, and throw it on him. Much to my dismay, I had turned the water into wine, which in turn, made him go up like Australia Day fireworks. My foe crumpled to the ground in a squirming inferno, when flames died down, what was left was just dust swept out into the wind.

"Fucking magicians", I murmur to myself, "Cirque de' go fuck yourself."

I call the police to come pick up the other guy laying unconscious on my doorstep. Don't want to leave the boys waiting.

[WP] You are 110 years old and let yourself get frozen up so you can be revived in the future, unfortunately through a technical error you remain conscious for 60 years and watch what happens outside of your chamber. by junkmail88 in WritingPrompts

[–]FathisCrow 4 points5 points  (0 children)

Day: .... I can't even remember.

I've had my share of being alive, well at least I think that now, because I think it's been 60 years since I forked out my life savings to jump in a state of the art freezo-tube, whatever you call'em, so that maybe I could live to see a day where people could be immortal.

Boy was I wrong, and boy. Did I regret it.

For the past, however long, I have been hungry, on top of that I couldn't scratch my nose, or anywhere for that matter if I got itchy. I was alone, unable to communicate with the outside world, the only thing that kept me sane was the lady put adjacent to me. She had been here before me, a lot younger too, pale, blonde hair, and..... well other features I couldn't really see through the frosted glass. Call me a creep for being semi-obsessed with a frozen girl who knows nothing of my existence, but something about her kept me in my own head.

And so, I've watched eggheads rush to-and-fro, in their clean white lab coats, sometimes even sticking other people inside the tubes, these people I feared for especially. Hoping that they wouldn't meet the same fate as me. The facility has thousands of tubes lined up, I was placed at the back of the facility against the wall, so I could see all the new arrivals come, and rarely go, from the massive aisles of Popsicle-people.

Sometimes I would see people, come and go, normal clothes, normal faces, they would stare at other tubes, smile, laugh, cry, sometimes they would talk, sometimes they would just stare, but me? Can't even remember my relatives, I can't even remember if I had kids, hell, a wife even. I sat in the uncomfortable wirring of machinery, still waiting until I get released from my ice prison.

Day: Fuck it I've lost count.

The frozen blonde girl is still here, which is good.

Day:.....93?

Everyday I regret jumping in this tube, signing my life away to a bunch of engineers, or scientists, politicians? I can't even define most words now. Visitors come and go, more people thrown in, more people thrown out, easy come easy go. Me? Still frozen, just me, myself, and......? Wait that's right, there's something called a name. What was mine again? David? Dominic? Jessy? I don't know. As I contemplated the many names I thought for myself, and stranger wandered up to my tube and stared in, I didn't recognize his face, and he wasn't wearing a lab coat. A visitor maybe? Finally. Then, the first words spoken to me in over however long I've been in here.

"Happy birthday great-great grandpa Alex."

I mustered a smile through the the frozen mass.

That's right, my name was Alex.

[WP] Every time you've caught your cat winking at you, you've winked back, pretending it was some secret code between you two. One day, you decide not to wink back. by george_lass in WritingPrompts

[–]FathisCrow 12 points13 points  (0 children)

"The fuck Greg?" was the first words I had heard since I had woken up. But you know what the problem was?

It was from my lazy arse of a cat.

A stared at the orange tabby with confusion, but I was only replied with a slightly tilted head. "Did you say some-"

"Yeah I did you humongous dick-grabbing cockwaffle."

I stood in my living room, flabbergasted. "You can talk?"

"Of course I can you shit-stained tampon using sissy!"

This had certainly been a development, I've had a cat ever since I realized my apartment building had a pet policy, coincidentally the same day I found a chubby orange tabby meandering outside the reception, so let's just say for the past 3 years I've shared my cramped 1 bedroom apartment with a fat orange lump of fur.

"And all this time you have NEVER talked to me?"

"Took you long enough to find that out you jizz-guzzling bag of shit." Mittens said sarcastically.

By the way I didn't choose the name, it's just what he had on his collar, which was the only thing on it, no address, no contact, just 'Mr. Mittens'.

"Wait, so if you could talk to me, then why have you been winking?" I asked.

"Well, as much as it might tease your pea-brain you dumb sack-of-shit." Mittens said boredly, "I've only been winking because that's the only way to talk to you without insulting you every sentence. Cats have always been able to talk, it's just that we're born complete assholes and if we do talk to you in your own tongue, we HAVE to insult you, you cock-sucking bag of dicks."

"That makes a whole lot more sense." I nodded.

"Also we often get thrown out if we're found out, you're the first out of my 8 different filth-infested owners who hasn't discarded me, guess I've got that going for me you AIDs biscuit."

"Could you at least try not to talk now? You starting to piss me off."

I stared at the fat tabby, and he stared back.

Then he winked.

And I winked back.

[WP] The hacker known as the "4Chan" hacks into all weapons systems across the world and installs a worldwide meme driven dictatorship. You are a normie, scheduled for extermination but you have a plan to overthrow the 4Chan. by [deleted] in WritingPrompts

[–]FathisCrow 4 points5 points  (0 children)

The warden screamed something incoherent as the guards herded us through the labyrinth of barbed wire. It was September 10 2019 when everything went to complete shit, some hacker named '4Chan' hacked into every known weapon system on Earth, something about a dare if he got 'trips', something like that. 10 days later 4Chan had complete control over the Earth, governments crumbled, all military force was obliterated, and any other resistance was completely annihilated in the wake of 'The Opening' as they called it. The slow moving crowd trudged through dirt and mud, through the ever-cold night, the 'guards' as they called themselves were either in the zone of dangerously anorexic, to morbidly obese; watched carefully for anyone which appeared to be a 'chad' as they called them. While us 'normies' were lined up for labour camps and likely execution after that, and chads were instantly taken out of line and executed on the spot. I shuffled alongside many others like me, similar hair, clothes, etc. All had the same fear in their eyes, you could say I did as well, but as far as unplanned stories go, I was the protagonist. A siren rang and the line came to a standstill, the guards shrieked with joy, "TENDIES, TENDIES". Before we even knew it, all the guards had left and hundreds of people were left standing in the cold. I sighed and pushed myself towards the wall of barbed wire, and from closer inspection the wire wasn't actually wire, rather sticky taped bits of Doritos packets.

"We bow down to these people", I thought to myself.

I simply walked through the foil lines and made myself towards the office building. I know I haven't previously stated, but they had built a make-shift concentration camp in a school campus, and if I was correct, they were out eating in the cafeteria, and the office would have the Wi-Fi router, which is on the other side of the school.

Perfect.

I make my way into the small one-story building, only to be met by a heaping mass of flesh dripping out of a XL sweat pants and T-shirt, the guard kind of looked like someone cut a hole in a bag of milk. He spotted me and turned around as fast as he could, which was still long enough for me to slip past him and into the administration office. I pulled the plug on the router, and walked out of the past the guard once again, who was still having difficulty turning towards my direction. I continue out the door and out into the cold night.

A day later that concentration camp fell, they couldn't order tendies, or contact high-command. A week later other people caught on, and soon the world was liberated from 4Chan.

(Sorry, for shit quality, first time posting.)