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 | Writing prompt | |
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ledderfayes
Super Regular
Killer Scout
|  | | P: | 07/15/2021 16:27 EST |
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come up with a legit story on how the Medic discovered and harnessed the infection. | |
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ledderfayes
Super Regular
Killer Scout
| | | P: | 07/15/2021 16:28 EST |
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if a lot of people write, i will make a poll we can vote on the best story. :D | |
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A medic discovered, he had to swim from one base to the other, make it through the enemy base from the water spiral, through the ramp room, to the batts. There, the medic would find a bright, blindly light. The aura of a 1000s gods, blended into one, The Bridge God, destroying all peasants below him. The medic knew, the only way to potential weaken The Bridge God, was to infect him.
The poison? All of the COVID vaccines in one. | |
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I've thought about this before. And how the two viruses (blue and red) are different variants. Hmm. | |
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sp0t
Super Regular
Assault Cannon
Lover
| | | P: | 07/15/2021 17:30 EST | | E: | 07/15/2021 20:39 EST |
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"He's quite mad," Dr. X said to Dr. Z as they both gazed into the video monitor at a man in a padded cell. "I don't think he's stable enough to move to the upper floor yet so we keep him in the underground units."
Dr. X handed Dr. Z an extra dry martini with two precisely speared olives on a toothpick placed professionally inside the glass.
"What is the patients name?" Z asked.
"We don't know, he refuses to tell us. He was found in a mud pit somewhere in West Virginia, no identification, no traceable fingerprints, medical or dental records. Nothing. We just call him 2270."
"Why 2270?"
"Well, you see," Dr. X spoke, "what he would tell us is that he is from the Two-thousandth-two-hundredth galaxy away from us in the seventieth solar system outward from the galaxy's core, so hence, we just refer to him as 2270."
"How very peculiar," Dr. Z said. He stared ever more curiously into the monitor. Patient 2270 was taking bites out of his own arm. Chunks of flesh lay scattered around him in macabre arrangements. Blood, dried and wet, covered his face as he dove in for another bite.
"Fascinating," Z said as he pulled out a notebook to describe his observations.
"We don't know how much longer he could continue to rip himself apart before dying. I assume not much longer, maybe by lunchtime." X said as he sat, rubbing his beard in thought.
"May I speak with 2270?" asked Z.
"No, I am afraid not." Dr. X stood up and went to a device that printed out a medical analysis form on patient 2270. "You see, there are no doors in that cell. We sealed them up last week, leaving only a small slit large enough to slide a tray of food in, even though he refuses to eat anything... other than himself, that is."
"I see," Dr. Z pondered. He looked back down to the monitor. 2270 had bitten all the way down into his arm, amazingly not breaking any major arteries along the way, and was gnawing on the bone.
Dr. X examined the medical printout carefully then returned to look into the monitor with Dr. Z, "When he finally dies, we'll unseal the room and remove his body. More than likely we will chemically decompose his remains for use as a food substitute and desert topping for our other patients.
"Uh hm," said Z, "If possible, may I have 2270's brain. I would dearly love to examine it, maybe even put some of that cloning equipment to use back at my lab."
"I don't know," X pondered, "I'd have to pull some pretty powerful strings. After all, no brain, no desert topping."
Dr. Z thought for a moment then said "What about if I give you that two-headed baby you've been wanting over at my lab... it eats too much anyway, twice the normal patient rations."
"Hmmm, that's a good offer, but, I still don't know..."
"What about if I throw in a couple of fresh hearts and two weeks at my time-share in Palm Springs," Z countered.
Dr. X's eyes widened a little, "You've got a deal Z," he said.
"Excellent," Dr. Z rubbed his medical hands together then looked at his watch, "Hmm, dead by lunch time... so I'll pick up the brain around dinnertime, say six-ish?"
"That would be fine," Dr. X said.
Dr. Z smiled and walked toward the exit door saying, "See you and that wonderful brain then, ciao!" and left the room.
X waved goodbye then turned back to the monitor and loomed close, staring intently at the patient, "Well, well, my friend," he said, "Soon you'll be history. What a pity." Dr. X. chuckled to himself, "If only the others knew you were once the great Dr. Y. Hmmph, you had to go and experiment with that extra-terrestrial fungus, didn't you. And now look... that fungus took over your body and you became one of 'Them'. Well, that is what you get for experimenting on yourself."
Patient 2270 chewed a chunk of arm and spit it out, then raked his teeth on the exposed bone, and with one motion, snapped the arm off and tore it away from his body. Blood pumped furiously from the now stretched and torn veins and arteries. X looked at his watch. Noon. "Yep, lunch. Right on time."
2270 then threw the bloody arm at the observation camera causing the monitor to fade to black. Oh, well.
Dr. X looked over at a corner and saw a med pack. Feeling bemused, he pondered "I wonder if I can utilize that to somehow simultaneously infect or heal a person depending on how I feel about them?".
X smiled thoughtfully, sat back in his chair and poured himself another martini, speared two olives with a toothpick, set them professionally into the glass, then gulped down the delicious gin and vermouth elixir. | |
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are we allowed to continue the story but make it a porn? are there rules? | |
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kyree
Super Regular
Killer Scout
| | | P: | 07/15/2021 19:07 EST |
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 | sp0t wrote:
"He's quite mad," Dr. X said to Dr. Z as they both gazed into the video monitor at a man in a padded cell. "I don't think he's stable enough to move to the upper floor yet so we keep him in the underground units."
Dr. X handed Dr. Z an extra dry martini with two precisely speared olives on a toothpick placed professionally inside the glass.
"What is the patients name?" Z asked.
"We don't know, he refuses to tell us. He was found in a mud pit somewhere in West Virginia, no identification, no traceable fingerprints, medical or dental records. Nothing. We just call him 2270."
"Why 2270?"
"Well, you see," Dr. X spoke, "what he would tell us is that he is from the Two-thousandth-two-hundred galaxy away from us in the seventieth solar system outward from the galaxies core, so hence, we just refer to him as 2270."
"How very peculiar," Dr. Z said. He stared ever more curiously into the monitor. Patient 2270 was taking bites out of his own arm. Chunks of flesh lay scattered around him in macabre arrangements. Blood, dried and wet, covered his face as he dove in for another bite.
"Fascinating," Z said as he pulled out a notebook to describe his observations.
"We don't know how much longer he could continue to rip himself apart before dying. I assume not much longer, maybe by lunchtime." X said as he sat, rubbing his beard in thought.
"May I speak with 2270?" asked Z.
"No, I am afraid not." Dr. X stood up and went to a device that printed out a medical analysis form on patient 2270. "You see, there are no doors in that cell. We sealed them up last week, leaving only a small slit large enough to slide a tray of food in, even though he refuses to eat anything... other than himself, that is."
"I see," Dr. Z pondered. He looked back down to the monitor. 2270 had bitten all the way down into his arm, amazingly not breaking any major arteries along the way, and was gnawing on the bone.
Dr. X examined the medical printout carefully then returned to look into the monitor with Dr. Z, "When he finally dies, we'll unseal the room and remove his body. More than likely we will chemically decompose his remains for use as a food substitute and desert topping for our other patients.
"Uh hm," said Z, "If possible, may I have 2270's brain. I would dearly love to examine it, maybe even put some of that cloning equipment to use back at my lab."
"I don't know," X pondered, "I'd have to pull some pretty powerful strings, after all, no brain, no desert topping."
Dr. Z thought for a moment then said "What about if I give you that two-headed baby you've been wanting over at my lab... it eats too much anyway, twice the normal patient rations."
"Hmmm, that's a good offer, but, I still don't know..."
"What about if I throw in a couple of fresh hearts and two weeks at my time-share in Palm Springs," Z countered.
Dr. X's eyes widened a little, "You've got a deal Z," he said.
"Excellent," Dr. Z rubbed his medical hands together then looked at his watch, "Hmm, dead by lunch time... so I'll pick up the brain around dinnertime, say six-ish?"
"That would be fine," Dr. X said.
Dr. Z smiled and walked toward the exit door saying, "See you and that wonderful brain then, ciao!" and left the room.
X waved goodbye then turned back to the monitor and loomed close, staring intently at the patient, "Well, well, my friend," he said, "Soon you'll be history. What a pity." Dr. X. chuckled to himself, "If only the others knew you were once the great Dr. Y. Hmmph, you had to go and experiment with that extra-terrestrial fungus, didn't you. And now look... that fungus took over your body and you became one of 'Them'. Well, that is what you get for experimenting on yourself."
Patient 2270 chewed a chunk of arm and spit it out, then raked his teeth on the exposed bone, and with one motion, snapped the arm off and tore it away from his body. Blood pumped furiously from the now stretched and torn veins and arteries. Apparently, death would be coming much sooner than expected. He then threw the bloody arm at the observation camera causing the monitor to fade to black. Oh, well.
Dr. X looked over at a corner and saw a med pack. Feeling bemused, he pondered "I wonder if I can utilize that to somehow simultaneously infect or heal a person depending on how I feel about them?".
Dr. X smiled thoughtfully, sat back in his chair and poured himself another martini, speared two olives with a toothpick, set them professionally into the glass, then gulped down the delicious gin and vermouth elixir. | |
my first buzz was on vermouth :( and I love ALL olives
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moose poop
Super Regular
Body Splatter
| | P: | 07/15/2021 19:09 EST |
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(white) vermouth, one of the secrete ingredients in white sangria | |
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ledderfayes
Super Regular
Killer Scout
| | | P: | 07/16/2021 00:54 EST |
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| EmotionallyDisturbedParakeet wrote:
are we allowed to continue the story but make it a porn? are there rules? | |
i could care less about porn stories | |
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moose poop
Super Regular
Body Splatter
| | P: | 07/16/2021 09:55 EST |
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| moose poop wrote:
(white) vermouth, one of the secrete ingredients in white sangria | |
this is funny, I really need to pay more attention or get a new key board.... | |
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kyree
Super Regular
Killer Scout
| | | P: | 07/16/2021 16:53 EST |
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does yours not light up? mine changes colors...I have a matching mouse | |
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moose poop
Super Regular
Body Splatter
| | P: | 07/16/2021 18:16 EST | | E: | 07/16/2021 18:17 EST |
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No, I have a 3 screen desktop with ergo key blah blah blah for stuff that I do - and I don't switch out of..., but i also have this old raggedy ass hp purple laptop that has missing keys and keys that stick -- and I use that to allow me to surf the net or post here so half the time stuff words are missing or letters missing or ... well you get the picture | |
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