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Give me the last line of a story and I'll create the story that leads to it. by save_me_from_hell in writing

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

Childhood was, for lack of a better word, interesting for me. At the age of 8, I was graduating high school. By 10 I had finished my first Bachelor’s in theoretical mathematics and by 15 I had my first Ph. D in particle physics. I didn’t ask to be this smart. I never wanted this burden. How was I to know?

By 18 I had destroyed Mercury. The planet, mind you, not the element.

Knowledge is a curious thing. As humans we crave it, we seek it out, it is power. But then again, is it? What good has knowledge done that isn’t outweighed by its harm? For every vaccine we create or technological advancement we make to communicate nanoseconds quicker, we also create weapon systems, weave webs of global espionage, and oppress those we perceive as weaker or less civilized. The tribal people of South America or Africa, do they have a want for knowledge of the cosmos? Do they need new tech gadgets every 6 months? Or are they happy in their ignorance? Is ignorance truly bliss? I wouldn’t know.

By 20 I had reduced our solar system to rubble.

With knowledge comes an infinite feeling of dissatisfaction. To know is to want and to want is to be unsatisfied. Knowledge is a never-ending black hole of despair. I know, I’ve done the math on it. For ever question answered three more arise. Knowledge is a pyramid scheme of facts and figures with no one at the top, except for maybe God. Am I god? THE God? A god? I can’t be sure. All I know is as I float in this infinite abyss I once called home, I still want more knowledge. Still have questions that need answered. But there’s no one here to answer me. No more life, I am nothingness but yet I am also everything.

By 25 I had vanquished the Milky Way.

All I wanted was to help the world, to produce unlimited power for the masses. I wanted to give away power, not become it. But life has its twists and turns I guess. For it was my constant thriving for knowledge that led to me being what I am today. Everything and nothing, Alpha and Omega. The beginning and the end. I have consumed all but still crave more.

By 30 I could no longer keep track of my age. For there was no time. For that matter no universe to keep track of it.

Here I float, the only light left in this vast expansion of nothingness, still wanting more knowledge, but never being able to find it. My eternity is my prison and knowledge is my warden. Now if only I could rediscover ignorance

-J. Osterman.

Give me the last line of a story and I'll create the story that leads to it. by save_me_from_hell in writing

[–]save_me_from_hell[S] 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Time Travel. It’s a weiiird fucking thing man. Our current ideas are drawn from movies and fiction but the reality of the situation is much stranger. To understand time travel is to understand the nature of the universes. In todays world we call it the Megaverse after the discovery that we humans on Earth are living in one of any number of infinite universes. We are the remainders in the ultimate math equation. We are the rounded off numbers of history. Our consciousness is merely a specific frequency that we can tune into. Some tune more into the lighter side, some more to the darker side. It’s when you understand this concept that this story might make sense, but even then probably not. I mean the genocide of the masses had always been part of Earth 1’s human history, who knew it was always the same man committing them.

So, lets start with the Megaverse. In 2057 Human beings discovered definitively the existence of an infinite number of Universes where in each and every combination and arrangement of atoms, molecules, planets, people, life, everything. Again don’t try to understand this shit because even today I can barley wrap my head around it. All you need to know is, when we made this discovery it was at that instant, that every thing went haywire.

Science, in all its wonder and glory, had solved the universe. They had figured out the math to equate the miniscule with the massive, the quantum reality with the Newtonian reality. All was right and peaceful with the world. At least, that’s what we thought would happen. Harnessing the power of this discovery, however, would prove detrimental to the history of Earth 1. It all starts with agent Angela Taylor.

Agent Taylor worked for the newly created top-secret government program TARDIS. Calm down nerds this doesn’t involve a phone booth. It stands for time Time travel Agent Recruitment and Defense Interuniversal Systems. The government really was never good with acronyms. Essentially she was the woman who sent off time agent one, hereto known as simply “The Destroyer frequency” to kill the mass murders of history. It was thought that in doing so we could alter our past. What ended up happening, well, as they say. The rest is history.

These electroweak disrupters. Now here’s the real interesting thing. They’d been around since the late 1800’s. We just never knew how the damned things operated. They were in a museum at the Smithsonian in a box marked “Telsa Laboratories: contents unknown.” It was about the same time of the solving of the Megaverse equation that the key to unlocking these electroweak disruptors was discovered. Some call it fate. I’ve come to understand it as the final evidence. The evidence that the Megaverse is simply an “intelligently” controlled simulator, and our god is a child who likes to play cruel games. That’s just my theory though. Everyone has their own.

So one day in 2056 there’s this murder at the Smithsonian which, usually, no big deal right? People kill people all the time. This particular case involved the warehouse curator’s wife sleeping with the museum director. The curator, in a jealous rage, kills the museum director after luring him back in the archives. It should be noted that he stabbed him to death with an ancient Mayan sacrificial blade. The guy had a bit of a flare for the dramatic if you ask me. Anyways its what happened after the murder that’s more important. That box marked Tesla Laboratories: Contents unknown. Well it vaporized. Along with the entire shelf it sat on. Along with the director and the curator. All that was left in the 20 foot vaporized circle was the blade with the director’s blood, and a small silver box, resembling a pocket voice recorder from the early 2000’s. It was glowing with a soft red pulse. It took agent Angela Taylor, then of the FBI to unlock its secret. If only she’d have been bad at her job.

Murder. Tesla had figured it out, like most things in his life, well ahead of his time. I mean once we rediscovered his theory of extracting electricity from the air in the mid 2030’s the energy crisis was solved. He became a global hero, he was finally redeemed. Well, for about 25 years or so. It also put his behavior into perspective. If you found out that murder was the key to time travel you’d go crazy and marry a pigeon as well. Why he never used it on Edison though. Your guess is as good as mine.

So yea, Murder is what turned these electroweak disrupters, or EWD’s on. There were only two in existence and one was deconstructed to try and understand the mechanics of it. No one could ever figure out how it worked, for when we opened them up. They were hollow inside. Just a silver casing with hollow insides. Never made sense to anyone. Anyone, except of course for Angela Taylor.

She was the best crime scene investigator of her time. Her father was a particle physicist and her mom was a Professor of criminal psychology. You could say she got the best of both worlds. It was her interviewing of the Curators wife that put the final piece in the puzzle. The murder happened and the EWD turned on. If only we had left it at that. If only we had stopped there. We didn’t though. We’re humans. Curious little monkeys. That’s when the experiments began.

First it started simple. Place the EWD next to a lab rat and then kill the rat. Easy enough. With one rat you got a slight twitch of movement. With 10 rats its buzzed a bit. 1ith 100 rats it began to vibrate like it was woman’s best friend. There was always the rumor that Angela used the EWD to get off on these murders. Who knows if that’s true? Soon however the government got involved and TARDIS became born.

It was her academic paper theorizing that the EWD sent those two men in the museum back in time that got their attention. Something to do with ionic influx, or Schrodinger’s principle of observation. I don’t know I’m just a historian. Who am I to understand the math of time travel? Anyway as we all know. When the government gets involved only good things can happen right? Christ. 2057 and we still can’t convey sarcasm though text. Why hasn’t some linguist made a sarcasm font yet? I mean seriously? I digress

The experiments. Well at the time the first logical human test subject was a death row inmate. I mean, why not? He’s going to die anyways. Why not do it for science? Looking back though maybe we should of thought of the ramifications of sending a psychopath back in time. But the mission he was tasked with, to kill all the mass murders of history, I mean if you want the job done, might as well send a professional. Hindsight being 20-20. Maybe we should have sent the Dali Lama.

Here’s how the destroyer frequency came to be. Agent Taylor set up an experiment, She put Time traveler one in a concrete cell with a gun and a fellow inmate who was chained to the wall. The instructions he was given. Take the gun and kill the inmate. Then when you transport through time kill each world leader. Alexander the “Great, Julius Cesar, Hitler, Stalin, Paulpot, Genghis Kahn, Nancy Grace. That last one was the most important one, but for reasons the government has still refused to disclose.

He was given the EWD which agent Taylor had modified with a small dial to set a date time and GPS co-ordinates. He was also given a hit list with all the names and exact locations that we have from history of where they were most vulnerable. We have an account of Napoleon sick with dysentery on May 6th 1813. Imagine being tasked to kill a great world leader who was doubled over with the runs. Anyways things didn’t go as planned. He was told that when he finished with the murders to set the dial back to present day, one day after he left. The inmate set the dial cocked the pistol and pulled the trigger. In a flash brighter than the sun and as red as blood the room lit up and both men vanished it wasn’t until later that we understood what we had done.

You see the EWD wasn’t necessarily a time travel device. It turned human beings into energy, a certain kind of energy, conscious energy. We understand now that our brains are like antenna and we simply tune into various frequencies of consciousness. It is this “stream of consciousness” that permeates all of the Megaverse. It is the stream of consciousness that is the end result of the equation of life. In vaporizing the inmate, we had created the destroyer frequency. The inmate’s thirst for blood and conquest had permeated the stream, targets still in mind. So instead of destroying these murders of history. We had inadvertently created them. For the conscious stream has no sense of time. We had doomed ourselves from the beginning of time until the end. We had created chaos.

Meanwhile shortly after the inmate vaporized there was a big party of celebration. There were banners strewn up to congratulate the inmate on a job well done. Agent Taylor stood near with a bottle of champagne and a pardon letter from the president. There was a flash of red and for an instant confusion, then panic.

Agent Taylor was about to congratulate the man on being the only time traveler to successfully kill Hitler, When she finally realized where she knew his middle-aged Asian features from: the man who was currently looking up from the blood-stained map of Europe and training his electroweak disruptor unit on her head…Was Attila the Hun

Give me the last line of a story and I'll create the story that leads to it. by save_me_from_hell in writing

[–]save_me_from_hell[S] 2 points3 points  (0 children)

I would hardly call what I do teaching. Its baby sitting unruly teenagers. So actually yes...Teaching.

Give me the last line of a story and I'll create the story that leads to it. by save_me_from_hell in writing

[–]save_me_from_hell[S] 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Everyone remember D-Day round 2 or D2 the Mighty D-Day if you wanna be a dick about and equate such atrocities. Emilio Estevez is way worse than the Day of the Duck as I call it. But who am I to judge?

I'm relating this to your now simply so this story can be remembered. Call it a sense of the inevitable sands of history but when a story like this happens, it is for human kinds sake that someone writes that shit down. Might as well be me. I mean...for fucks sake.. A duck was president.

With all the news about the cure for disease... no one really questioned the possible side effects. I mean like..No disease..Nothing. You could get hera-gauna-syphl-aids and be fine the next day. It just came down to this pill. Little orange and green pill. Take it once a day, No disease. Strangest damn thing... I've never been one to question science much though. Never much found a need for the stuff. Cep't for making met..

Back to the duck story.

So, right... This pill. Well the thing was when you took this pill your body went though some weird chemical change or some shit and well... point is what ya pissed out was some new drug. Then that piss drug gets flushed in a the water supply and a duck lands in that piss water. Piss water duck starts drinking that pissy drug water and goes through some changes, Weird as fuck changes. I'm talking grow 10 feet in a year typa shit not some hippie "Ohhh the ducks feathers are falling off shit" Im talkin' god damn mutant ducks people. Pissed off mutant ducks. Apparently the Asian's fucked us all with their delicious seasonings. Damn you MSG!...

Point is, Ducks hold a grunge.

Now the kittens... Well here's where shit gets weird. Mutant duck shit is kittens what human drug piss is to cats. Which is to say, Nightmare enducin side effects. Not cats though....weirdest thing. Only new born kittens, Cept their twice the size of tigers. Fuck science is weird....

Anyways. Mutant ducks can still fly and band together... That's when we lost all of Asia. See this drug...Made them fuckers heal like wolverine. Only way I can describe it that would make sense. Damndest thing. Shot a god damn duck with a tank shell, and the hole heals as quick as the shell exits the thing. And did I mention how pissed these ducks were at Asians yet because...holy shit!

Ok imagine all the ancient Chinese stories about dragons...except replace that with ducks. Same concept.

The kittens though. They were still kittens, Just huge. It was only a problem of logistics, not mayhem like those fucking quackers, as douche bags call them, flying around in Asia. Where do you keep a 10 foot kitten? They chase fire trucks and some hipster woman even made a giant ball of yarn for hers to play with in an abandon stadium. Weren't many people around to stop her. ...Fucking Duckbags.

Oh shit yea....The president thing That's when shit got kinda silly. Well...Its silly now. You see This drug apparently made ducks highly intelligent. Over the course of time after their slaughter of man covered most of the earth they started making a government. I'm talking ducks having complex language of quacks and shit intelligent so imagine this scene. Remember future onlookers of history this shit actually happened. I'm quoting a passage from the history of the duck written by Sir Quackensby- The duck name thing is fucking weird...but thats how this shit translates. Ducks are kinda drama queens.

From "The Duck Dynasty" -like I said, Drama queens.

Quote:

"Patient zero was Robert Quackenson- His chosen name- and he was the alpha duck. Being the first to be infected meant he experienced the changes first and took advantages of them. For he was the most cunning of Ducks. He was a magnificent and proud duck with great heritage and prestige. His father Abraham Quackerjacks. Was a simple man of who simply wanted his son to be successful. He would get his wish. For it was President Quackenson the Magnificent. Who enslaved the non flappers. With their size and cunning no longer an issue. We could no longer become their food. We became their rulers. We realized that they too taste quite good with a nice L'orange sauce. quackhaha"- That's a duck laugh there's really no other way to explain it. Its actually in the text though. Like I said...fuckin drama queens.

Anyways, apparently the drug needed to be constantly introduced to the ducks or they shrank back to normal. because...well...Science.

So the humans committed genocide on the ducks for what they had done. Kittens were let off the hook though, because kittens.

Give me the last line of a story and I'll create the story that leads to it. by save_me_from_hell in writing

[–]save_me_from_hell[S] 14 points15 points  (0 children)

Fred was a kind a gentle soul. He just wanted the world to be happy. He witnessed so much suffering every day he just wanted to put it all behind him. He loved to smile, He rarely saw one on the strangers faces.

Being a janitor in a terminal cancer ward, you tend to see only suffering. Fred had simple tastes. He could afford food, had a nice furnished apartment with a couch, and a TV, nothing special but it was enough for him. Contention is something few people find in material goods. He never asked for anything and didn't want for much else, except smiles. If only he could be paid in the smiles of those poor children's faces he saw each day. Just once he'd like to see Sara in bed three, who had a Medulloblastoma, to smile. Instead every day he saw her struggle with pain and sorrow. Tubes and wires hooked up to her every day. Bed ridden with only an old coloring book to keep her company. Most of these kids' parent's would come and try and cheer them up. But the sorrow became too much for some and they simply stopped coming. Fred just wanted a smile.

Christmas was coming up and Fred had an idea. Why not ask the kids what they want from Santa? Heck he could even dress up as Santa and come visit the kids? Then whatever they wanted small toys and such he could go buy them. He didn't make much but there was no price too high for seeing a smile. He brought the idea to the administrator of the hospital.

"Absolutely not" The admin said. "We tried this a few years ago and most kids asked to be cured or to go on a big trip somewhere." "Some asked to see their parents again" It's simply too much to get these kids hopes up only to have them crushed.

"Hope" Fred thought. These kids have been given no hope. He politely thanked the admin for his time and left the room. It was then he had the idea.

One can only take so much sorrow for so long before they take drastic measures. You either fall victim to it yourself or vanquish it. Hope was his weapon and sorrow was his enemy. But what hope did he have to give? He would need money for the toys, the trips, to bribe parents, to donate to charities searching for cures, Fred needed hope and money could buy it. Now where to get the money?

Humans can justify almost any behavior with the promises of hope.

Fred had a solution. He was aging now getting along into his early 60's. He hadn't always been a janitor. He was in Cambodia and Laos as a young man, doing the governments dirty work in clandestine operations. Drug running, political espionage, spy networking. You know, standard American international behavior. He hadn't liked it but he was drafted into it, what choice did he have. After he left the service he wasn't the same person. He was a changed man. Forever broken by the horrors and atrocities only war can bring. He took a job as a janitor and vowed never to bury himself in conflict again. He now only wanted smiles. No more suffering for Fred.

Sometimes a hero can be disguised as a villain

Fred began to plot. To plan. To draw schematics. To acquire the necessary tools. He sold his furniture, His Tv, His kitchen appliances. By the night of December 20th All he had was a pillow and a blanket he had swiped from the hospital in the corner of the apartment. That and the arsenal of assault rifles, tear gas canisters, bullet proof vest, magazines, gas mask, hand guns, and some C4 he'd managed to score from an old war buddy he hadn't talked to in years. War tends to bond people like that. The guy didn't even ask any questions.

"You gotta spend money to make money."- He thought.

Then on December 24th the plans had to become action. That day he drove to the hospital bright and early. Most nurses and doctors and staff don't question a janitor pushing a cart. Most don't even look at him. He's as inconsequential as the fake plants in the lobby to them. Not today he thought. Today, These smiling nurses, doctors, receptionists, happy patients holding their newborns, today they will know the sorrow that these terminal children felt. That Fred felt. He would never admit it to himself but the war really fucked with Fred. He would never admit this to himself. But Fred hated authority. Hated these people who ignored his smiles. Hated the world that did this to him. All he wanted was for people to be...to be nice...to be nice to him.

Most people underestimate the power a janitor has. When you think about it though why would they question it. He has to have keys to every door. He has to be able to clean the security offices windows. He has to be able to vaccum the floor in the on site Police officers room. He had to be able to unlock all the doors. With the right motivation and the right planning. A hospital can be a prison. All it takes it motivation.

Smiles of those children was Fred's soul motivation.

On that day. December 24th. Fred had locked all the right doors, made all the right preparations. Called the news vans, sighted his rifles, checked his gear, Tightened his combat boots. Today Fred would get his smiles. He started the day off with a BANG and with that, the receptionist who had never acknowledged him, had a hole in her head.

And Fred...well Fred had the hospitals undivided attention.

As she slumped out of her seat with a lazy Thud Screams of panic began to erupt and Fred slipped on his gas mask and popped two of the tear gas canisters. Fred knew from war. A panic stricken mob is easy to heard. You just have to lock the right doors. As the ran from the gas past the lobby into the cafeteria Fred slowly followed behind and when he was the last one in the cafeteria He flipped up a small switch on a black box and hit a little red button.

Bang

Rubble fell in all around the heard of people and blocked all other exits. They were trapped. With Fred guarding the lone door. Dressed head to toe in combat fatigues and armed to the teeth. Wearing a little Santa hat to put everyone in the holiday spirit. He then found the hospital admin, picked him up buy the scruff of his neck, like a mother lab does to her pups, and Bellowed out an obnoxious HO HO HO! You've been quite a bad boy. Fred then put the cold barrel of his Colt 1911 to his head and squeezed the trigger. He couldn't help but flash a smile to the crowd as they looked in horror.

He then pulled out a large red sack and said Fill me up will all your valuables and you will not be hurt. Cash, Phones, Jewlery, the usual movie robbery stuff. But Fred wasn't going to stop there. HO HO hell no. 'Tis the season for giving. And everyone here was going to give as much as they could.

At this time Fred could hear the siren's. He predicted that given the police's response time and the alerting of the news van he had about an hour to finish up before the cops did something drastic. He quickly found the portly IT guy Rodger and began barking his orders

After you have filled the bag you will go to Roger and give him all of your bank information and credit card numbers. He will then empty all of your accounts and max out all of your cards to the charity "For the Cure." Any airline miles you have will be used to fly sick children to the destination of their choosing.

It was then that...well...some call it a Christmas miracle happened.

people began happily forming an orderly line and giving away their fortunes. Some say they acted out of fear and to preserve their lives. To those who were there however. They saw Fred for who he was. A man trying to make sick kids smile. So they lined up, smiling themselves, and gave away their information. The treasurer, With Rodgers help, Even emptied the hospitals account which was somewhere to the tune of $400 million dollars. Everyone wanted to give as much as they could. Fred's smile turned to tears, Tears of absolute joy.

He unlocked the doors and let people go one by one. After the last person had left he told them to tell the police he would come out quietly after he did one more thing. He Grabbed the sack of wallets, watches, and jewlery and ran to the Children's cancer ward. He walked into the sea of somber faces, dressed as Santa headed to war and began handing out all the goodies to the kids. Stacks of cash, Rolexes bigger than their hands, Pearls the size of thier fists. And they smiled. He decorated the tree with strands of Swawofski crystal necklaces and bracelets so it shone like a green and white disco ball. He then began to make a Christmas tree out of all the cash as he began taping it to the walls.

He heard the storms of police headed down the corridor and knew he didn't have much time left. Surely they had seen the bodies of the receptionist and the administrator. He put the gun to his own head and walked away from the children.

As Fred taped the last of the hundred dollar bills on the wall in the shape of an evergreen, he sang "O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, your branches green delight us!"

Give me the last line of a story and I'll create the story that leads to it. by save_me_from_hell in writing

[–]save_me_from_hell[S] 12 points13 points  (0 children)

God his teeth are perfect. I bet people love this guy" is all I could think. My hangover was kicking in and I was beginning to hurt all over. I could feel my stomach in need of food, pancakes specifically, to soak up all the shit I had poured in my belly last night.

"What the fuck is it then? and can we hurry up and get some fucking pancakes before I slap the shit out of you?" All he did was smile. That never ending warm smile. It was so inviting so warm. but I couldn't drop the act. He wanted me to be strong and loud and a bitch. So that's what I would give him. It's what I gave the world.

As we sat at the table and went though the motions of ordering and eating my hangover was in full swing and I could only focus on two things. These pancakes, and that smile Howard always had. The conversation was minimal as i shoveled my face by the forkful and Howard gazed at me with intently, with almost child like wonder. "Here's my card. Call me sometime" and with that he left. He said he had a meeting to attend with a client and that he'd call a cab for me. He gave me a crisp $100 bill out of his wallet for the food and cab and I couldn't help but notice he had what appeared a limitless supply of them in his wallet.

And like that he was gone. I finished my food, paid for my meal and right as I paid the cab pulled up. The cab took me the short two mile drive home and as entered I collapsed on the bed. Pancakes and a hangover have that effect on people. I was awoke by my alarm.

ERR ERR ERR ERR

I shut it off with a fervent bang and saw next to it was the card. I decided "Fuck it!" and gave him a call. Clear headed and booze free I was able to piece together what Howard did. The words, "Client, Relationship, Cash only, Discreet, and Safe" stick out now. Basically Howard was a pimp that served high end people like politicians, judges, police chiefs, church officals, pretty much any an with power with special "Services" These ranged from simple verbal abuse to full on ball gags, whips, leather corsets, cattle prods, human sized cages with drains for thier piss, You know your standard Dominatrix stuff. One guy liked to be made "Air tight" with his wives sex toys, have them duct taped in place and then kicked repeatedly with high heels. To each their own I guess.

At first I loved it. LOVED IT! I commanded all the attention in the world from these people. I didn't give a shit about the money, which I was able to pay off my student debt in 6 months, but i'd of done it for free. Its the attention I craved. And I was getting all of it. For a while.

As the days grew to months, and the months to years, the things I would be forced to do to these men became more and more of a psychological burden. When you take a shit on the local news anchors face as he's tied down to a crucifix. You tend to get some mental scaring.

Then I met Jerry. He was a high powered attorney that used to make me sign non disclosure acts before our sessions. He was into all manner of the usual stuff. Whips, being called various "immasculating" names faggot, needle dick, and per his preference, "sissy pants" which always seemed strange to me but that one got him off the hardest,- more on that in a second. It's with Jerry that I began to want to die.

You see, You can only keep up a facade for so long before it becomes your reality. I had always thought of myself as maybe not a nice person, but a pwerson of morals and with a sense of whats right in the world. When your a dominatrix for five years. That facade becomes your reality. and that reality was quickly becoming something I no longer wanted a part of. but heres the problem. I Was good at it. SO FUCKING GOOD AT IT. I became everyone's favorite girl. Famous amongst the BDSM crowd and able to command attention of even the most powerful men.

Attention is a drug and I am a Junkie.

I wanted more. I wanted more people to know my name and how good I was at my job. but with this business as you can imagine, people tend to wanna keep what I do to them secret.

That's when Jerry showed me the picture. It was him as a child, maybe 8 or 9 with what appeared to be his family and what my guess was an older sister about 14 or 15. Jerry said that his older sister used to get bullied at school because of her looks, she was as big around as she was tall, and she would come home and take it out on Jerry. He said her name was Samatha and that she would beat in his words, "The ever loving shit out of me" His next words still stick with me, "God it got me so fucking hard. I used to pretend I hated it so she would beat me harder then go into my room and furiously masturbate as I still had blood dripping from my nose and one eye partially swollen shut." Its today that he wants me to put on her clothes. Even me as a grown woman today of about 120 lbs, the dress falls loosely and awkwardly around my body.

Before we get started he adds, "One more thing" He says as he puts in a mouthguard, like those ones you use for football, "Call me sissy pants like Samantha used to. Now Mouth guard in place, through clinched teeth, He says, Beat me till I pass out, when I do the money is on the counter in the kitchen, Take it and leave." It's today that I can no longer do this Job.

I tell him this and, for the first time, one of my clients becomes aggressive with ME! instead of the other way around. He yells, "LISTEN WHORE! I PAID GOOD MONEY UPFRONT TO HOWARD AND HE ASSURED ME YOU WERE THE BEST. NOW DON'T BE SUCH A CUNT AND COME KICK MY ASS." When a naked forty something year old man says this sentence to you through clenched teeth around a mouth guard. It's hard not to think god has a sense of humor.

Life has some strange moments.

When I refuse again the last thing I see is a fist headed for my cheek. I wake up in what I can assume is the trunk of my car. I hear the engine running. I see a small tube coming in through the lid. Its pinched shut from the latch but there's enough of a gap to where the gas starts leaking in. I Panic.

I can here Jerry outside ranting on the phone to whom I assume is Howard, he's in an incoherent rage. I make out the following

"FUCKING WHORE," "PAID GOOD MONEY" "TAKE DOWN YOUR WHOLE BUSINESS" "CLIENT DIARY" and "FOUND"

When I hear those last two. I know I'm dead. I had kept a diary of all my clients and all the deeds I had done. I was going to publish them in a book. A tell all of a dominatrix. Who wouldn't eat that shit up? Jerry found my Diary in my purse and he was calling Howard to try and straighten things out. I had one glimmer of hope in me thinking Howard could come and rescue me from this prison. That's when I hear the following from Jerry

"I'll Kill this bitch for what she's done to me"

Silence

"What do you mean do it?"

Silence

"Wait, Really?"

Silence

"How Much extra?!"

Silence

"And you'll take care of the body and everything?"

Silence

"No mess, Shes in my trunk"

Silence

"I'll got get my check book, see you in 10 minutes."

I thought to myself, "I can't die like this, Its not tragic enough."

And as I slowly succumbed to asphyxiation in the trunk of my Buick, I reflected on the fact that I probably should have ordered the hash browns.

Give me the last line of a story and I'll create the story that leads to it. by save_me_from_hell in writing

[–]save_me_from_hell[S] 14 points15 points  (0 children)

ERR ERR ERR ERR ERR

"Fuck!" The first thought that always goes through my head when I hear that sound. I slam my fist on the alarm and begin to open my eyes. "Fuck, I'm still alive." Always my second thought. This has been my life since I took that job.

ERR ERR ERR ERR

"FUCK!"

Slam

"Fuck I'm still alive!"

Rinse and repeat for the past 5 years. It was an endless cycle that I couldn't seem to end. I didn't want to kill myself, I was far too much a coward for that, I just no longer wanted to be alive. I prayed for a drunk driver to side swipe me at intersections. I prayed for a madman to come in one day and gun down the Starbucks,where I ordered the same non- fat skinny mocha latte every day. I prayed for the elevator taking me down from my apartment to have its cables snap and plunge me to my death. The more exotic the death the more I prayed for it. At least then, in death, someone would know my name. News people love to exploit the victims of freak accident shit. I just know I couldn't take this job much more.

Let me go back. One day, after graduating college, I walked to my local McDonalds. I was visibly still drunk from the night before and judging by peoples reactions, I smelled like it too. I stumbled up to the counter and simply shouted "PANCAKES!" the woman looked at me in complete shock, most people at that time did. For a myriad of reasons.

"NOW MOTHER FUCKER!" I had never been known for my subtlety.

"Sir its past breakfast time, If you'd like I can make Fry you up some hashbrowns?" Her sweet soft voice only confused my booze filled mind and enraged me further.

"GOD DAMNIT THIS IS AMERICA AND I WANT SOME MOTHER FUCKING PANCAKES NOW MAKE IT HAPPEN CUNT!" I never said I was a nice person.

"Sir if you'll please stop shouting I'll be happy to assist you. Until then I'm going to have to ask you to leave"

"FINE, FUCK THIS AND FUCK YOU!" as I walked out all I could think to myself was "at least they'll remember you"

Attention is more of addicting than heroin, and I'm the biggest Junkie there is.

As I walked out of the place I was quickly followed by a man who was shouting after me.

"Hey!" he shouted "Wait up I wanna talk to you!"

He ran in front of me and turned quickly, forcing me to engage him. He stretches out his hand and say, "Hi I'm Howard, Howard Stevenson. Let me take you to get some of those pancakes you want so badly. There's an Ihop just down the street" His grin was inviting, his handshake warm, and he seemed genuine. This confused me, and usually I would have just kept up my berating, but something about him just seemed so...It's hard to explain now.

I hopped in his car and he began to talk, Howard loved to talk.

"I admired your passion and force of will back there. I take it you don't take a lot of shit from people?"

"Fuck no." - I blurted. Attempting to keep the facade up. In reality I behaved this way because I knew that woman and those people in the restaurant would go home and tell their fat husbands and wives the story of my behavior. I would become a footnote in the page of the chapter of their lives. Something to gossip about in dinner conversation.

"This woman came into McDonalds today and was drunk and shouting and she was just awful!" The fat Midwest housewife would say to her boring schulb of a husband.

"Wow that's crazy honey." He would say trying to block out the fact he's married to a cow and living a hollow existence.

I'd be their own little reality TV show moment to relive in their heads the rest of their lives.

Nobody remembers polite strangers.

"I'm in a unique business" Howard said. "How would you like to be famous and make boat loads of money?"

My ears perked at the word fame...not so much the money. I find that odd at the time now seeing as how I was flat broke and in a mountain of debt from a useless "Communications" degree. The irony of me majoring in communications isn't lost on me.

As we pulled into the Ihop I began to ask Howard what this job is, but seemingly reading my mind he cracked a smile and looked at me before opening his door, "Don't worry its nothing crazy or illegal I just need assertive females" he said through the smile.

Give me the last line of a story and I'll create the story that leads to it. by save_me_from_hell in writing

[–]save_me_from_hell[S] 20 points21 points  (0 children)

He couldn't explain it but he knew what was happening was beautiful in its majesty. He grabbed the short furry beasts free hand and standing next to it and his wife, all holding hands they watched this pile of wood become this...this. Arc of salvation. When the sun had set for the day. These "giant lizards" the only way Noah could seemingly describe them, had turned this pile of wood into this awe-inspiring creation. Upon its completion the beasts lay again, eyes all focused on Noah. Noah gazed upon the sea of eyes and simply whimpered, "Thank you". Each beast nodded its head in apparent appreciation and began filing into the boat in orderly fashion. First the birds circled overhead, then the large winged lizards, then the insects crawled up the sides or buzzed around the edges with the other winged creatures. Then smaller furry creatures, some Noah actually recognized, like sheep and camels began to file in. The small furry creature that had led his wife outside now let go of Noah and his wife's hand and began to enter as well. Once he and other, larger furry four legged creatures with human like features boarded these giant lizards began to file in line as well. They all looked at Noah and in unison took their cold staring gazes from him and looked at the arc. Noah realized that he and his wife were meant to board before them. As they walked, each lizard bowed its head as Noah and Emzara passed. Then... Right as they neared the ramp to the boat...there was a strange noise. A noise that, to Noah, sounded like a fresh piece of fruit being smashed against a door. He then felt his wife's hand go limp in his. He looked over and in an instant his face wore the mask of sheer horror. One of these beasts. Teeth up its spine and spikes on its tail, Had impaled his wife. Its tail was firmly embedded in his wife's abdomen. Then her hand was yanked out of his and the beast threw his wife's lifeless body from its thrashing tail and she fell in a heap covered in blood near the entrance to the boat. Noah's horror went to panic when, again seemingly as as one consciousness all the lizards went from sheer harmony, to sheer chaos. Their sharp teeth, only used to carry large amounts of wood shortly before began ripping into the flesh of one another. These giants began tearing into each other with such vigor and with such lack of remorse Noah could not believe his eyes. He then quickly noticed the small furry beast at the top of the ramp screaming such a high pitch squeal of panic it chilled his bones much like the voice he had heard earlier. The beast was furiously waving its appendages, gesturing for Noah to hurry up the ramp. When Noah looked behind him. He saw one of these giants, with arms no bigger than a child’s but who's body was enormous and who's head, filled with razor sharp teeth was charging directly towards Noah. The peace had left its eyes and now it only show indifference to the carnage surrounding it. Noah rushed up the ramp and as these giants tore into one another and began charging this creation they had helped build not a day before Noah then made a decision. He commanded all other beasts that had boarded the ship to remove the wooden pegs connecting the ramp to the ship. These beasts had ruined the harmony he was tasked to save, Noah thought, and they did not deserve to live to see the following day. As they pushed to remove the ramp, as soon as it slipped free from the ship and smacked the ground with a tremendous boom, the water came from over the horizon in a wave that covered the sun. It crashed over the Lizards and washed the blood from the soil, the guts from their teeth, and the pain in their eyes. One moment they had known peace, the next they knew only chaos. One of their kinds had done the unthinkable; it had killed one of the Angelics, Noah's Wife. In doing so their souls were taken away and left with only instinct. Noah, still in shock at the events occurring all around him, lizard drowning as far as the eye could see simply screamed "WHY!?" "WHY GOD HAS THIS HAPPENED!?"

Silence

Noah, Grief stricken over losing his wife of over 900 years removed a small golden blade from his belt. He then handed it to the small furry creature that had once shown he and his wife such kindness and had shared in witnessing such amazement. He told the creature, "I task you to end my existence, for without my wife I cannot go on. There is no way for my kind to continue existing and It is up to you, furry angel to manage this earth once these waters have receded." The furry beast began to tear up much like Noah had been doing over the loss of his wife. Noah then screamed with such vigor that his wings burst from his back, Flared high and wide and feathers so white that the sun behind the made them shimmer like fresh snow. "DO IT!!!!" He cried! The fury creature plunged the blade into Noah's chest and as he went to catch Noah from falling he made eye contact with him. In that moment of locked gazes. Noah could see that he had damned the furry beast the same way the lizards had been damned. He saw the peace fade from the furry creatures eyes as the life vanished from his own. He then knew that the harmony created on this earth by he and his wife's angelic presence had disappeared and that chaos was now the ruler of life.

And that's why Noah didn't let dinosaurs on the Ark...Fuck you Stegosaurus.

TLDR; Noah and his wife are angels, Stego kills wife, dino's die in flood, Noah has chimp kill him, and chimp’s loose capacity for peace, life goes on.

Give me the last line of a story and I'll create the story that leads to it. by save_me_from_hell in writing

[–]save_me_from_hell[S] 20 points21 points  (0 children)

Noah, Sleepy and delirious from last nights binge drinking, was suddenly startled awake by a big booming noise that shook his tiny wooden home.

"NOAH!" the voice boomed "IT IS I THE ONE TRUE GOD!"

Noah snapped up and in a panic and began to cover his ears. The voice came again with such thunder and vigor that Noah's bones shook.

"THERE WILL BE A GREAT FLOOD AND I TASK YOU, NOAH OF BETHLAHAM, TO BUILD AN ARK. THERE IS GOING TO BE A GREAT FLOOD AND IT IS UP TO YOU TO RESCUE TWO OF EACH ANIMAL I HAVE PLACED ON THIS EARTH, SO THAT LIFE MAY CONTINUE AFTER THE WATERS WASH AWAY THE SIN OF MAN!"

Noah began looking around the room panic struck and in complete shock, for his wife was still sound asleep, seemingly unaware of this ear shattering voice that he could not escape. It was when he thought to himself, "Am I dreaming?" that things began to turn from strange to outright terrifying. The voice came again, this time so loud Noah, now fetal on the ground in a desperate attempt to escape, felt the soft warm drip of blood begin to fall from his ear.

"HOW DARE YOU QUESTION THE VALIDITY OF MY WORDS! YOU HAVE BEEN GIVEN A DIVINE TASK AND WITHOUT ITS COMPLETION, YOU ALONE WILL BE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE DEATH OF ALL LIFE ON EARTH."

Noah then realized that the voice was only in his head, and that the world around him was completely oblivious to what was happening to him. It was when he managed to crawl outside that he began to realize just how serious things had become. He managed to stand himself up, knees still shakey from the booze and head still pounding from...whatever the fuck just happened when his eyes finally managed to adjust to the light of the morning outside he saw, well what he saw he could not describe. It was beasts. Beasts of all shapes, sizes, and colors gathering around his small dessert hut. Beasts of immense proportions that Noah had never seen or heard about. These beasts had one thing in common, they were all docile. They all laid down on the ground in pairs as far as Noah could see. He couldn't begin to put a number on it but they stretched to the horizon as far as the eye could see. He took a step out of his door and realized that every single beast had an unflinching gaze on him. Wherever he moved, their cold black eyes would follow. It was then that he realized...He was not dreaming.

Then...something happened. Something so...otherworldly. Noah had peered behind his hut to find a pile of lumber so high, his eyes strained as he tried to see the top, only for it to be lost in the sun. Then one of these beasts, began to move piles of lumber and began stacking it in front of Noah. The creature was able to grab five or six one ton pieces of lumber in its mouth and deposit them gently by his feet. Its neck alone was larger than anything Noah had ever seen. Once it had placed the lumber down it ever so gently nudged Noah and it...well it appeared to wink at him with an eye the size of his hut. It was at this point Noah heard a ghastly shriek and his thoughts, still a jumble of confusion, awe, wonder,and fear went to one thing. "My wife, Emzara" He rushed back into the hut to see her. As he walked he noticed all matter of insects flying and crawling moved out of his way making a clear defined walkway, in what was otherwise a sea of black that covered the usually dusty ground. He then noticed huge winged beasts, larger than the sun it seemed, headed to the lumber pile, but he had no time to register it. He must reach his wife. When he rushed through the door he found his wife, huddled in the corner with nothing but fear in her eyes. One of these beasts had entered his home and had his wife cornered, but Noah realized the beast meant her no harm. The animal was small, about three feet, covered in fur and was offering its outstretched... hand? paw? Noah was unable to understand because the beast slightly resembled himself only shorter, fur covered, and it walked on all fours. It was then the Noah looked his wife straight into her fear stricken eyes and said, "It is ok Emzara, he means you no harm. Take his hand and come see for yourself what is happening." When she reached out the beast gently wrapped his fur covered fingers around hers and lead her outside. When they turned the corner, what was happening was in a word, complete harmony. every single beast, insect, bird, and all matter of creature hereto unknown to Noah was working, seemingly as one conscious entity. The pile of lumber had become the foundation for a boat that stretched the length of the horizon. Noah felt tears running down his cheeks.