diff --git "a/data/corpora/narrative/test_pos.jsonl" "b/data/corpora/narrative/test_pos.jsonl"
new file mode 100644--- /dev/null
+++ "b/data/corpora/narrative/test_pos.jsonl"
@@ -0,0 +1,300 @@
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0000", "text": "you ’ re, uh, we ’ re, uh, ” a look of frustration crossed his/my brow as he tripped over the unusual terminology, “ somehow critical to the future of the world. I don ’ t get it, but the Council has determined that we absolutely need to date Olivia, or the future is going to fall apart. I don ’ t get it either. ” I let my face scrunch up into a confused stare. “ And who… exactly is Olivia? ” He/me responded by pulling out a futuristic looking phone and showed me a picture on the screen. “ Her? I went on one date with her sometime last year, and it was a complete disaster! Flowers? What the heck was I thinking? ” The man winced, apparently re-experiencing the embarrassment along with me. “ Yeah. But, apparently the whole thing was meant to be, or some mystic bull-crap like that. They ’ re calling it a “ Universal Quantum Touchpoint ” or something fancy like that, but basically, you need to take this, ” he said, pushing a device that looked suspiciously like a black Tamagotchi toy ( which I definitely never owned ) into my hand, “ And fix things with her. ” He gave me a meaningful look, as if he had given an adequate explanation, and stepped backwards. As he retreated, a faint wireframe of the faintest blue appeared on the lines of his figure. He took another step and the lines multiplied, covering most of his body. One more step, and the man vanished into the lines, and they suddenly converged and shot into the distance. After recovering from the shock of meeting myself, I quickly found out the purpose of the device. It was a bona fide time travel device. I quickly dubbed it the “ Timeagotchi, ” for manly reasons completely unrelated to previous ownership of any similarly-named toy in my past. The first time I pressed the buttons on the front, any skepticism about the man who claimed to be me or his message pretty much vanished. I ’ ve seen some pretty high-effort pranks on the Internet, but, you just can ’ t really deny the truth when you jump back fifteen minutes in time and watch yourself get abducted and then instructed by yet another instance of yourself. So, I did as the man said. I started out by jumping a week before the flower incident. I reintroduced myself ( is it appropriate to use", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0001", "text": "Gary's father always made sure to let him know that he was the reason his life was shit due to his wife dying while giving birth to him. If you ask anyone who knows Gary they will all agree that bruises were almost like tattoos on his skin. They never left. His childhood was a living hell yet he swore to himself that he would transform all the abuse he was receiveing into examples of what he should never do to another human being. When he turned 15 his father was drunker than usual and beated Gary up so much that he had to spent 3 days in the hospital. Gary did not want to comeback to his home after that, he was terrified. After taking a deep breath he went to the police station just to get completely ignored by the officers. Gary's situation was hopeless, he had been wandering the city for 3 days with no safe place to stay and starving. Suddenly, walking down the street he came across a place were people fed the homeless. He ate as much as they allowed him to. An old lady who voluntereed there offered him to stay in her home if he was willing to help her feed the homeless. Gary agreed instantly, a warm bed was all he wanted. Five years went by, Gary's father went to jail for almost killing another man in a bar fight. Gary took the chance and came back to his old home, horrifying memories came back to him when he opened the door but after a month he was now somewhat comfortable. Everyday he would go to the shelter to help the old lady that saved his life, he became loved by the regular homelesses because of his empathy and surprising ability to cook. One day, a recognised chef from the city decided to cook in the shelter for charity. He ended up mesmerized and astonished by Gary's cooking. So much that he offered a job in his restaurant. The abused yet lovely kid accepted with tears in his eyes, he would finally earn enough money to make his dream come true, open his own homeless shelter. That night he went to sleep with a wide smile. At 4 AM in the morning a dog's bark interrupted his deep sleep. He went outside kicked the dog in the stomach until it shut up. He came back to sleep like nothing happened. He had the best sleep of his life. Gary woke up, made himself a cup of coffee, sat on his chair and looked out the window just to see the dog laying dead just across the street. He", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0002", "text": "Stark was late, as the headmaster had expected. The portraits were telling him to hurry along and he enjoyed tormenting them by spilling the tea, again and again. `` Oh no, I'll have to boil a new kettle,'' he sighed dramatically. `` Forget the tea, forget it! You can't be seen to be fumbling with the tea!'' He looked to Dumbledore and traded winks with his old teacher. Sometimes they enjoyed pranking the portraits together. For the entire week leading up to Christmas he and Dumbledore had talked exclusively in mermish. Stark hobbled into the office, still not used to the cane. He was looking more and more wizardly as the years went on - his silver beard was positively Merlin-esque! `` Can I offer you some tea?'' asked the Headmaster. `` Oh please don't boil another kettle!'' shouted Dippet. His sentiment was echoed around the office. `` You've offered me too much already, Headmaster,'' said Stark. `` Tony, please, after all these years.'' `` Old habit, Neville, sorry.'' `` Quite alright.'' `` My answer's still no.'' `` For the moment, for the moment.'' Neville smiled. `` I have no argument today, Tony. Just a question, for you to ask yourself: would this make my students and I happy?'' `` My happiness isn't a factor in this decision.'' `` Well that's one way to avoid a question.'' `` Sir I can't... I... I...'' `` Can't do magic?'' `` I wasn't going to say that.'' `` Wasn't or couldn't?'' Tony sighed, closing his eyes. `` Ask me again,'' he said quietly. `` Will this make you and the students happy?'' But he was happy already. He had entered their world, this school, as a spy. He had not expected to fall in love with their way of life, the community, with Mariel. He had never imagined he would love teaching, nor that one day they would cease to call him Stark the Squib. They might not call me that any more, he thought, but I remain one all the same. I can not lead them. `` I can't do it, Sir. Someone more qualified, more... magical, surely...'' `` The staff want you. The parents want you. Most importantly the children want you, Tony. And I think once", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 492, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0003", "text": "`` not again'' was all I could think as I stood outside on the balcony and inside the apartment on the couch. I would have to wait it out again as I had before. How long though was to me still a mystery. I watched myself on the couch as I held up three fingers behind my husbands head. From the couch I stared at myself on the balcony; that glance I'd given myself several times. The last time it had happened we were shopping. I had only left for one moment and there I was, standing next to him. that time I had held up 5 fingers. It's the days in between where I cant see him that make it hard to bear. I could n't tell you why it happens but time has a way of bending around him. We were in university the first time it happened. I left my class and was already talking to him before I could reach his dorm room. I held up 8 fingers that time. At the time I had no idea what that meant. The fear I felt those next few days I would learn to know very well while dating him. Every time it happened I would show myself how long it would take. How long until everything went back to normal. It was three fingers this time though which was n't as bad as it could have been. I opened the balcony door and headed inside put on my shoes and left our home. He never noticed this part of me as hard as I tried to get him to. All that was left for me was to wait it out. I would have to wait it out as I had before.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 325, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0004", "text": "for very little reward, so I don't think it's so much to ask for a moment of peace and quiet every now and again.'' He heard the sigh on the other line indicating the end of his secretary's patience, as many of his employees made when he went on such tirades, and he relented. `` So please, my dear, tell me,'' he said, sitting back down and idly glancing at the paper on his desk. `` Tell me what urgent matter demands my attention today.'' `` W-Well...'' Miss Simmons sounded uneasy. `` You may want to be re-thinking your plans today, Mr. Cubbins...'' The old man Bartholomew rubbed his eyes as took a second glance at his newspaper, and nearly dropped the phone, before shaking his head, thinking he must have been seeing things. `` What was that now, Miss Simmons?'' he asked in a shaking voice. `` Sir...'' Miss Simmons said hesitantly. `` Have you taken a look outside today?'' Mr. Cubbins blinked and rose once again from his chair. It couldn't be... He hobbled shakily to his window and drew back the curtains, and then he saw the green sludge that fell from the sky. Then he began to laugh. Thirty years, and Derwin was still making the same old mistakes. `` Sir?'' Miss Simmons said on the other line, not hearing him fully as the phone dangled limply in the man's relaxed arm. Bartholomew put the phone back to his ear. `` Thank you, Miss Simmons, that will be all.'' `` B-But Sir!'' He hung up the phone and placed it back into the receiver on his desk, before making his way out of his study and towards the back patio where a man, a woman, and a little girl were staring out the door in awe. `` Look grandad!'' the little girl said in excitement as she ran towards him and grabbed his hand, urging him forward and pointing at the globules of green that were now splayed across the lawn. `` Have you ever seen anything like it?'' The old man let out a breath, giving his granddaughter's hand a loving squeeze. `` Once, my child...'' he said, shaking his head. `` Once...''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 471, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0005", "text": "Be calm Sarah, there is nothing to be worried about. I sat in the student-pickup loop, repeating these words as nothing but foreign cars past by. My mother was usually the first person in line, but today that streak was broken. In fact, I had been sitting on this bench for almost 20 minutes, and still she refused to dispel my growing fear. I almost started hyperventilating when all of a sudden from the corner of my eye, I spotted my crush. Trevor Miles, Mr. Popular but still talked to everybody without fear of judgement. He was perfect in a rugged way; his dreadlocks and slight 5 O'clock shadow danced with his perfect lips and infinite eyes. I once was caught in his gaze when he picked up a pencil I dropped in homeroom, and I felt like I was going to go insane if I kept staring any longer. All of a sudden he noticed me staring at him, and I quickly looked away trying to be as smooth as possible. I guess I failed, because he started walking towards me now. Oh god, no. I am already panicking Trevor, please don't finish me off. `` Hey Sarah, your mom didn't come already? That's a first, I'm normally the last person here.'' he said with his unfair smile, destroying any semblance of control I had over my manic state. `` Uhh... yeah. I guess she got caught in traffic or something. Or maybe her car didn't agree with her driving habits and went on strike or...'' I said before shutting my idiotic mouth. I never had a boyfriend all throughout high school, and I swore it was my inability to just play it cool. Every time I started mouthing off clever jokes, they were met with laughs, but subsequently all the date offers whizzed past me. I could see him smirking at my comment, and I accepted that my future with him ended so abruptly. He started since I stopped talking, `` Ah well no matter, its cool to have someone else here with me for once. Remind me to thank your mom's car for the company.'' I giggled, but for a fleeting moment. This smooth son of a bitch didn't understand how rude he was being. Someone so cool, trying to flirt with someone like me as if anything will come of it. Sure I was pretty, but my social standing was anything but. He was", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0006", "text": "Reginald woke up to find that there was a seal staring at his face and laying on top of him. He screamed and the seal screamed and then the seal ran away, pushing past his bedroom door and out into the hall. `` What the fuck was that?'' he said. That fishy, watery smell had stuck around in the room. His carpet was wet, his blanket was wet, and he was pretty certain mold was going to grow underneath his carpets if he did n't do something about it right now. `` I'd better call Animal Control,'' he said. Then a voice popped into his head: `` Kerrville Animal Control Hotline, how can I help you?'' said a voice in his head. He looked at his hands. Definitely no phone there. `` Hello? Can I help you?'' `` Uh,'' said Reginald. `` What is the nature of your emergency, sir?'' `` I... you can hear me?'' What the fuck is going on, thought Reginald. `` There is no need for that language, sir,'' said the voice on the other line. `` If you do not have an animal problem - `` `` I do, I do,'' said Reginald. `` It's that... it's Texas, and there's a seal in my bathroom. I do n't know what's going on. Can you send someone over to pick up the seal?'' `` Another breather. God, I hate this fucking job,'' said the person on the other end of the line as she hung up. He stared out the window. He could hear the sound of rushing water as he looked out at the Texas suburb. How did a seal get into my house? said Reginald. Then he noticed the growing puddle of water on the carpet when he turned around. In the bathtub, the seal was enjoying a leisurely cold bath. `` What the hell are you DOING?'' screamed Reginald at the seal as it wallowed in the bathtub. The seal made a noise not unlike a bark and a whine as it turned slowly in the bathtub full of water, the faucet running full blast. `` How did you even open my faucets?''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 453, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0007", "text": "I ’ d chosen this stone as my home, so my scales could dance like stardust with the sun. I also chose it because of the 4609, to remind myself of what I ’ d become. The train brought the wounds of my heart to life, you see. It was like pushing a searing knife to a scar. I could never grasp what I had done that day, but a useless lizard, once a man, deserved nothing less. The first time I rode the train was with my father. We ’ d take a trip daily around the block. We ’ d sit in the back and blow raspberries at one another until the trainman kicked us off. My father was an idiot though. I mean he must have been? Because he kept his faith in me until the end. I ruined his life, as expected, leaving him lonely and without friends. Aunt Luce took me to the zoo one time. She packed a basket filled with her famous treats. I could imagine the flavour as I licked my lizard lips. And despite a watering mouth, any offer of something so scrumptious would be far too sweet. I met my love, Cherry, at this same location. As an aspiring teacher, I commuted via train five times a week. We laughed, we loved, and spent years together. But in the end, I broke her heart. I hadn ’ t expected her on the train that day. If I had, I probably wouldn ’ t have detonated the bomb. By the time we locked eyes it was far too late, and everything after that was gone. Cherry flies above now, reincarnated as a beautiful black crow. I spoke to her last night when she flew down to my spot. I didn ’ t think she ’ d recognise me, but something about the after-life is a mixture of magic and a way the old world works. We made a deal, a promise of sorts. Any minute now... I hoped. I watched as she speared away like a star from the pack. And in a flash, I felt her beak pierce my heart. I shuddered and truly appreciated the pain. As everything faded to black...", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 446, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0008", "text": "ed face. `` Don't you remember me?'' she asked. I looked at her, and suddenly it was as if an electric bolt had run down my spine. `` Nancy?'' I asked in disbelief. The woman only nodded. `` Once we went to the city. I remembered it well - there were seven bridges connecting the island and the bank. We tried to cross all of them and come back to the same spot. Always we tried - always we failed.'' `` Nancy,'' I simply repeated. The prayer tablet rested silently on the counter top. This wasn't unusual - a lot of people on the Ringworld, even the shadowy figures that dominated the other side - they all knew me. But Nancy was special. `` It was a prophecy,'' I said. `` Only the lovers who cross'd the seven would be joined together in heaven. We never did cross them together, Nancy - so I suppose-'' Nancy swallowed. And then, in a flash, I understood. The ring on her finger- `` You married?'' I asked. `` Despite our promise not to?'' Nancy nodded. She couldn't bear to tell me the horrible truth - the idea that love could hurt was too much to contemplate. `` Who is your husband?'' I asked. `` He's dead,'' she replied. `` I'm buying this prayer for him. I have nothing left in the ringworld, except my wedding ring - will you be willing to accept that as payment?'' It was not a matter of payment at all, and she knew that perfectly well. Slowly, I reached out, and touched her paper-thin hands as the sky laughed and played on outside. `` What about us?'' I asked. `` Did we ever have anything at all?'' She blinked, then nodded. I passed the pill to her with a sigh. `` One extra-strength prayer tablet,'' I said. `` To be used on the target of your choice.'' She pocketed it, then stopped. At the door she turned back. `` Did you say - target of your choice?'' I nodded. She broke the tablet in two, handing one half to me. I accepted my own tablet with bewilderment. `` What is it for?'' `` One half,'' she replied. `` For love lost and found, and love lived and died.'' `` Do you really believe that's going to help?'' I blurted out. `` What other hope", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0009", "text": ", my god. At least with a chimp you can fight, with a leopard you can run, but these things - ” He stopped his tale as they heard a crash in the passage above. The two soldiers froze, listening for a sign to retreat to the crevice again. After long moments of measured breath, there was nothing. Caius steadied himself, took a drink, and went on. “ We ’ d reached a point in the river where we felt sure we were near the source, close to the ‘ mythic fountain ’ of the traveler ’ s legend. Supposedly there was a point in the river where we would pass a sharp bend and come upon a confluence of three waters into a shallow lake. ‘ A steamish, bubblish bath from devil! ’ ” -- Caius mimicked the traveler ’ s broken Latin. “ Supposedly at the bottom of that lake lived the god-shells. ” Favian ’ s eyebrow raised. He ’ d heard legends of the god-shell, but wrote them off as military grandstanding, something to give hope to the dwindling ranks. Caius sensed his skepticism. “ You never held that piece of god-shell, did you? ” He flared a grim smile as Favian shook his head. “ Say what you will about that traveler, his blade was like nothing I ’ ve ever felt. ” Caius lightly ran his finger across the lip of the goblet. “ Were this a god-shell goblet, that would have cut me to the bone. The traveler ’ s blade was as light as eagles ’ feathers, yet you could place it over a campfire, mold it into any shape you desired, and it would cool rigid as bronze, and twice as strong. I saw with these eyes the traveler mold his blade into a visage of Diana, and back again, in only the hour of the setting sun. In my darkest moments on that river, this vision pressed me on. Such a weapon, if produced for an army… ” “ But where did it come from? ” Caius ’ gaze wandered to the cave depths. “ We had it, too. Sure enough, Aurelius dove to the bottom of that pool and came up bloodied but ecstatic. ‘ It ’ s there, he said! Hand me the straps! ’ Within hours we had hauled one of them up. ” “ What? What was it? ” “ How", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0010", "text": "Julia woke, wincing in the harsh light, to see the doctor inspecting his instruments. He hummed a jolly tune to himself while laying the glittering tools out in front of him. She was lying upright on an operating table, her whole body at a forty-five degree angle. Her head felt thick with wool, from whatever he ’ d injected her with, and his voice sounded as if coming from another room. “ Had a nice nap did we? ” he said, studying a sharp scalpel. As her dizziness faded, the realisation of what was happening came to her with slow, horrible pulses of clarity. The light from all around her pressed in, oppressive and unyielding. In spite of it, she could just make out the room she was in; an operating theatre, white, clean, smelling the same as a combination of any ordinary hospital or dental surgery she ’ d ever been in. Opposite her was a large, metal door, that looked like the sort used in the hidden bank vaults she ’ d seen in films. “ I must say you led me on quite a merry chase, ” he said, letting out a sharp, loud breath that ruffled his blue surgical mask. “ Yes. Quite a merry. Chase. ” He whistled to himself now, waltzing over to the sink and washing his hands, ignoring her struggles to break free from the thick, white leather bonds that bound her. Julia tried to piece together the preceding scenes. She had been walking in the woods, as her father had instructed her not to. She could see his wrinkled, reproachful face that had made her want to do it even more. She ’ d cut her knee when she spotted the house amidst the bracken, and now felt it throb. *So strange for a house to be out here*, she ’ d thought, and such a strange house too, all big, boxy and white. It made her think of a cartoon, though she wasn ’ t sure which. It had looked abandoned and she ’ d ignored the warning voice in her head because it spoke like her father. Always sensible. Always safe. Always dull. She ’ d peeked in a window and saw red paint, splattered crazily on the walls and the floor of the white living room. *Someone must ’ ve danced around with a whole can of it*. That was what she thought at first. Until she", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0011", "text": "given time had elapsed, and I presumed that we had collected all useful data I ordered Charon to take us home. As I climbed into the chamber I reminded Charon to wake me as I had previously, and I set the timer once more. The dreams returned. Flashes of light streaked by. A black hole devoured a galaxy. Stars were born. A fire was kindled in a cave. I saw the birth and death of a thousand generations. I heard their cries. And then I awoke. `` Parker can you hear me?'' Charon said. `` Yeah I hear you.'' I barely whispered hoarsely. `` We our currently in the Atlantic Ocean. Re-entry through earth's atmosphere was a success. Although I think you should have been awake for re-entry we arrived a few days ahead of schedule. And I did not wake you since you instructed me to wait exactly six and a half earth years.'' `` Whatever Charon..'' I mumbled trying not to puke. Once I got my wits about me Charon informed me that a crew was coming to retrieve us. They got there promptly, and we returned to base where I was put into quarantine for a mandatory seventy-two hours. Afterwards the true celebration began. I had done it; we had done it. This was one of the greatest achievements of mankind to date, and it put us that much closer to traveling to other solar systems. On the day I was finally getting to leave headquarters I had one more quick encounter with the owner of the company, and the man behind the entire operation, Charles Lancaster. `` Parker!'' He shouted as I was walking out the front door. I quickly spun on my heel, and went back through the door. `` Oh, Mr. Lancaster, hello.'' I said in shock, as he had only ever met me personally once before when I had just started working for the company. `` I just wanted to personally commend you on your expedition.'' He began. `` You have started something that will send all humans to places we have only dreamed about. That is something that is worthy of the highest honor in my book.'' He beamed. `` Just doing my job, sir.'' I replied shyly. `` Well you've done a damn good job, Parker.'' He laughed. `` Now go home, and enjoy some time off. We'll take care of all the data you collected.'' `` Thank you sir, will do.'' I began to walk", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0012", "text": "? I feel like it's been forever since I last saw you! Are you still dating that one girl? Carly, or something?'' `` Nah, we ended it a few weeks back. It just wasn't right, you know? You know when you feel it, and that just wasn't it,'' he concluded. `` Man, I'm sorry. It seemed like you two got along pretty well. Say, while you're here, can I ask a big favor of you?'' I asked suddenly. `` Sure, Craig, what's up?'' `` Well, I was driving here, and believe it or not my brakes stopped working almost as soon as I got off the interstate! Luckily I was already going pretty slowly and was able to pull off to the side and get the parking brake going before I called a tow truck, but now I'm stuck here without a ride, and I don't want to make Mary get up and drive me back home while she's still sick. I can pay for gas and everything.'' `` Absolutely, man, I'd be glad to. Don't worry about gas, that's totally fine. Talk about good luck, though. That couldn't have been better timing!'' He almost looked frustrated. I guess I probably was screwing up his schedule a bit. `` Hey, thanks a ton. I'm really sorry. I owe you one for this. I'll meet you up by the front doors when we get off. See you around!'' I started to walk away. `` Sure thing. See you around!'' Todd turned and left in an opposite direction. - As promised, I met Todd at the door later in the day with my bag over my shoulder and a small sealed box in my hands. He gave me a questioning look. `` Ready to go? Say, what's that box? I don't remember you having that earlier.'' I shrugged and answered truthfully. `` No idea. Someone delivered it earlier today and said not to open it until I got home. Probably Freddie. You know how much he likes to play the secret agent.'' I chuckled. Todd apparently didn't find this as funny as I did. We walked out to his car and had a surprisingly silent and awkward ride back to my home. After I clambered out of his old 2001 Honda Accord, he waved goodbye with a somewhat strained smile on his face before peeling out. I unlocked the", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 493, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0013", "text": "`` Press the button... PRESS THE BUTTON NOW,'' my commanding officer bellowed. The nuclear launch code had been entered. The green digits, i-11 ( ) M-iN4Ti blinked on the screen. My fingers slowly crawled over the big red button. Once again I looked at the red button in fear. `` This was it,'' I whispered to myself. After a few moments of hesitation, I gingerly pushed the red button. Long: -118° 10' 8.2014'' Lat: 33° 56' 15.5868'' the screen read. I rubbed my eyes in disbelief. These were coordinates to a local Walmart in California. `` Weird,'' I thought. The next few moments, were life changing. A few miles away a small group of school children were fumbling around with a soccer ball. It was then that the ground began to shake. The Earth's roar echoed through the little children's ears and the unkept grass began to tear. A huge ballistic missile began to push its way up to the surface of the Earth, revealing the numbers i-11 ( ) M-iN4Ti on its side. As the huge thermonuclear war head reached the surface, it began to position itself toward the sky. Immediately afterward, the ground began to tremble and warhead began to cut through the air. I watched as the warhead began to approach the local Walmart. A young women was carrying her child with one hand and holding a shopping cart with the other. The next few moments were inhuman. I watched as the warhead exploded and a mushroom cloud covered the sky. Sigh, I turned away from the screen. It was all my fault. That's when my commanding officer began to walk towards me. After a quiet pause, he patted me on the back and whispered, `` Good job soldier, You have put Walmart's reign of terror to an end.'' `` Now'', he looked at me anxiously, ``.....it's Target's turn.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 410, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0014", "text": "With God as my witness, I would not crack. My opponent stared me down, rivaling the ferocity with which I glared into him. The room would have been silent but for the clock, whose ticks and tocks kept the rhythm of our rivalry. The world was dead to us now; had fire broken out we would have each surely perished before accepting our loss to the other. This was not to say it was easy to maintain. In his eyes I could see a madness stretched out across infinity. Those dark, unblinking corneas spun a tale of deception. If my guard went down for even a moment, all would be lost. `` You ca n't win'' he said, his smug fuckin grin making me clench my fist in rage. `` You just watch me'' I retorted, the strain of our contest sapping the wit from my tongue. As confident as I must have sounded, the reality was much more grim. I could not say which direction our battle of wills was tilting, but barring equal exhaustion on his part I had little chance of victory. There was a fire in my eyes, a fire which I knew I could only put out with a concession of defeat. No. Not now. I had come too far, sacrificed too much to be the loser. Just a little longer now. He could n't hold out forev- He blinked. He totally blinked. `` Aw yeah, MOTHERFUCKER! You're paying for pizza!''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 307, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0015", "text": "I winced as an immense crash shook the room. How long would this continue? Another resounding explosion echoed through the room, dust falling onto my shoulders and caking my hair. I didn't budge, as if the blanketing dust could cover and fill the shame and sadness that is the empty void of my mind. Just yesterday, the sun shined bright, and now....did the sun even exist anymore? *** `` Hurry up, Joe,'' she spat with derision, only half-jokingly. She walked past me briskly, heels clicking on the wood paneling, her lustrous dark hair whipping me as she passed. She gave me a sidelong glance, her eyes, such brilliant green eyes, wrinkled in exasperation and frustration. `` Ok ok I'm coming,'' I replied, kneeling down once more. I reached as far as I could, grasping air, sweeping my hand further and further as far as I could reach. I jerked my head up on accident, hitting the bed frame and eliciting a loud yelp as I fell backwards onto my butt. `` I swear, Joe, you're such a klutz.'' She had disappeared and reappeared with a broom, and kneeled down with grace and swept back and forth. The glasses rolled across the floor and I picked them up, perching them on the bridge of my nose. I turned to sheepishly thank her, but she's already gone. I sighed. There was a time of smiles, sunshine, and the ecstasy of youth, had it been that long ago? I crouch into the car, wary of the low entryway. She's already on the phone, tapping away furiously. There was no greeting, not even a nod of my driving, or existence. I sighed internally and adjusted the mirror and chair, reclining it way more than she likes. She would always argue that it obstructed the view of the sideview mirrors, but I argued for comfort. I began driving, passing the Mcdonalds, Zaxbys, and the myriad other suburban fast food places. We stop at a light and I glance over at her, still typing away. We pull into the lot finally, and she visibly perks up a bit. I turn the engine off and begin to leave the car, but she's already out the door and walking into the building. What happened to the girl that would wait for me so she could", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0016", "text": "„Thanks for stopping, ” said the woman as she crawled inside the back of the car. “ Sorry about the mess. ” “ No worries, ” said the driver calmly and pulled the car back on the road. The woman was quite young looking but something about her felt odd. Maybe it was her clothing. It looked like it had gone out of fashion years ago. Water was dropping from her long dark hair that hung in her face. The weather got worse every minute. Heavy rain drummed against the car and turned the road into shallow lakes. “ Where do you want me to take you? ” the driver asked her without taking his eyes from the road. The woman sighed. “ Just a bit along the road. ” “ You ’ re sure? I ’ ll bring you everywhere you want, lady. ” She smiled weakly. “ That won ’ t be necessary. Just a bit, then I will get off again. ” “ There ’ s nothing here, ” the driver said, “ Just rain and misery for miles. ” “ I don ’ t mind the rain, ” said the woman and pushed her wet hair out of her face. She was quite pretty but had a sorrowful look on her. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. “ Are you cold? ” “ I am always cold, ” said the woman. “ My coat is on the back. Just take it. ” The woman looked around and found a long black coat neatly folded beside her. “ I don ’ t want to drench it. ” “ No worries, ” said the driver, “ I hardly wear it anymore anyway. ” The woman took the coat and wrapped herself into the black cloth. It felt heavy and comforting on her skin. The hood was way too big for her head, so she left it off. “ It ’ s very nice, thank you, ” said the woman and snuggled into the black robe. “ A lot of people would not have stopped and picked me up. ” “ Really? Well, I my responsibly, isn ’ t it? I can ’ t leave you out there in the rain, you know? ” “ Still, it ’ s very nice of you, ” said the woman faintly. She looked from between the front seats at back of his head. “ You are from around here, aren ’ t you? ” “ I am from around a lot of places, ” the driver said. She tried to", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0017", "text": "The air in the room hangs dense with a sense of dread. Another day gone, another night present, another opportunity to let the feelings creep into her core. She sits at the edge of the bed, face damp, staring at the wooden floor underneath her feet. A lamp at the corner provides dim lighting. A fan overhead slowly turns, pressing air gently against her skin She is a girl, probably the almost-perfect girl, who takes advantage of every minute of her youth. She is a girl who beams her smiles, tells her jokes, and laughs her laughs. She is a girl with plenty of friends, most would say, who sometimes come visit her in that room. “ Why do you do this to yourself? ” asks a voice, one quite close, laced with softness moreso than her own. The girl continues to stare at the floor, her focus elsewhere. “ Why? ” the voice continues, even softer. It is quiet. That is not a question the girl knows the answer to. “ Want to know something? ” Reluctantly, the girl nods. “ I care about you ” The girl wipes part of her face with her forearm. She sniffles a bit, half believing the voice and half thinking it lies. “ Do you want a hug? ” asks the voice. Again, the girl barely manages a nod. “ Okay, good. ” Warmth surrounds the girl and, after a few moments, it seeps into her core. It doesn ’ t expel the familiar sense of dread, but it gives it company. “ Do you feel better? ” she is asked. The girl shifts slightly in that bed and a breaks her gaze from the floor. Her mouth curls slightly. Not a smile, but almost. “ Yeah, I do ” mutters the girl, almost to herself. “ A bit, at least ” “ Good ” replied the voice, happier this time. “ You ’ re okay. Can you say that to yourself? ” The words hang in the dense air in that room. “ I can ”. She pauses. “ I ’ m okay ” “ You ’ re okay ” quickly follows the voice. “ And I ’ m here for you ” A slight smile paints itself onto the girl. She inhales deeply and slowly exhales, a sense of calm flowing through her. Another night about to end, another opportunity to see tomorrow. She is a girl, far a from perfect, still with more time", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0018", "text": "hand planted downward into the marble dais. `` You send your people to death! Your sons to their graves, while you feed your madness with wine!?'' Charles refused to hold his tongue any longer, the court quieted and the air was suddenly thick with tension. The King looked crookedly at his enraged offspring. Charles continued, `` And you! You conspire against me!? If you wished for the throne all you need was ask! We could have spared innocent lives if you simply spoke with me! We could have avoided needless bloodshed if you could overcome your cowardice!'' His anger with his brother was beyond that with his father, but his bond with his twin was of a different magnitude. Edward remained quiet, tightening his grip on the hilt of his broad sword, his armor shifting slightly. `` You, you dare...'' the King began but paused. ``... You are a seed not worthy of my words, but I am a merciful King... However I will not poison the hearts of the people with our discourse. Empty the court! I will have words with my son that no one need witness.'' Momentarily Charles' tension left him, believing he had a chance to break through to his father while the court emptied. The King looked to Edward, `` you as well my boy, I have no desire to embarrass your brother any further.'' Edward protested, but the King's sapphire eyes turned cold on him, and he made his way out. Once the court was empty, Charles took a few steps towards the throne, `` Father.. I'm sorry for my anger but --'' `` Sorry!? How dare you speak before me! How dare you call me'Father'! I am your King child! You will refer to me as such and nothing else!'' The King stood, looking down towards his son, incensed with hatred. Charles made another attempt, ``... Your highness, I plead tha --'' `` You PLEAD!? I did not empty this court for you to plead! Silence your tongue before I rip your throat from its godforsaken shell!'' Charles' anger began to boil once again, realizing his father was beyond reason. He remained silent. `` You are a son of mine no longer. Your rights are removed, and with Edward's oath Ethan will be well protected. You will return to the vanguard and give your life for your King! If your bones do not come back in pieces I will break", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0019", "text": "now-familiar path to the oncology department. `` The cancer I could cope with if it wasn't for my goddamn potato of a head,'' he muttered to himself. `` Fuckin' sex appeal down the-'' And that was when he saw her. Well, really all he saw was a figure disappearing through a set of double doors, but it was the figure, he decided, of a long-legged, auburn-haired goddess. It was enough to make him run a self-conscious hand over his lumpy scalp as he sat down in the chair outside Dr Morton's office to wait for his next cycle of chemotherapy to begin. Over the next few weeks, Matthew discovered a lot more about the auburn-haired girl. She was called Isabel, she was just as beautiful from the front, she was sweet, she was funny, and best of all, she was morally obligated to visit the oncology ward daily to see her father. Was it unethical to hope for a long and drawn-out illness for the father of his crush? Matthew decided that on balance, yes, it probably was, but karma freaking owed him one. Approximately three weeks, two days, five hours and thirteen minutes after he first saw her, Matthew finally plucked up the courage to talk to Isabel. `` Hi.'' Yeah, that was the dazzlingly witty repartee upon which he prided himself. Isabel looked round in surprise. `` Oh, er- hello. Do you need something?'' `` No, I just... I've seen you around so I thought I'd say... hi.'' Matthew could happily have stabbed a long, hot poker through his eyeball, into whichever lobe of his brain was responsible for being so goddamn awkward. Before he really knew what his was thinking, Matthew heard himself say, `` I promise I look less like Voldemort when I've got hair.'' For some reason, Isabel laughed. ***** *23rd June 2022* It was Isabel who first spotted it, when looking over old photographs. `` You haven't aged.'' Matthew raised an eyebrow. `` You flatter me.'' `` No, I'm serious.'' She stared down at the photo, taken six years previously, just before Matthew had first received his cancer diagnosis. `` Like, I know you look different and all, from the treatment, but... you don't look older.'' Matthew frowned, and scrutinised the photo as well. He cocked his head on one side.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0020", "text": "sputtered. She was three feet from me. Close enough to stab me, if she was a lunatic. But there was nothing in her hands. `` I've never scuba dived in my life.'' `` Right. But you will.'' Carefully, as if approaching a wild animal, she reached out toward my hand. `` I'm not from here, Chris.'' I snatched my arm away. `` What?'' `` I'm not from *now. * I know this sounds ridiculous, but I'm from the year 2039.'' I laughed. I couldn't help it. It wasn't that her words struck me as funny. The situation was just nuts, and I let out some tension in that laugh. `` Okay, freak, whatever,'' I said. But her eyes had gone cold. Her brows furrowed together, and she squinted in a way that brought her crows' feet into sharp relief. The edges of her mouth tilted down in disappointment. `` You don't believe me. I get it.'' `` Nope.'' I backed away, reaching up to put my buds back in. `` But I know all about you Chris,'' she continued. There was a knife edge to her words. `` I know about what you did in San Jose.'' I froze. `` Yeah,'' she said, nodding curtly. `` I know. *Everything. *'' `` Lady, I went to college there. Is this some kind of stalking thing? Did someone...'' I looked around, trying to fight the ice in my chest. `` Who put you up to this?''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 327, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0021", "text": "so she was a bigger fish than I had originally thought. I'd pegged her for a novice, but most people don't start that young. I gave a whistle, impressed, `` You're smarter than you look. I'll be honest, I was hoping to get your true name, use you as a pawn to do more trades. You'd be surprised how restricting being locked out of Hell can be on someone in our profession.'' She cast her gaze downward. `` You don't need my true name, or to use me as a pawn. I heard about you early in my career, and have looked up to you for some time. Please,'' she said, turning her head to look me dead in the eye, `` make me your apprentice!'' That caught me off guard. She was clearly competent, but not confident. I thought this over. She wasn't wrong to want to learn from me; I probably knew every trick in the book, and, even after Satan had essentially put out a burn notice on me, I still had no shortage of connections. But what was in it for me? I supposed it would be nice to have help around the shop. What's more, with an apprentice, I could maybe do some business. Besides, she was like a lost puppy that had followed me home. I thought back to my own young days as a naiive Trader. How nice would it have been to have somebody show me the ropes? I sighed yet again, and probably not for the last time if I was going to keep her around. `` Fine.'' Her face broke into a grin that would give some of the wide-mouthed toothy demons I'd met a run for their money. I couldn't help but smile myself. This could be fun.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 359, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0022", "text": "in pain. “ My leg. ” He groaned, clutching his right leg. Bone protruded out of the skin. He lay his head back and shut his eyes. “ Run, I ’ ll try to slow them down. ” Mark put a hand on Darrel ’ s shoulder. “ I ’ m sorry. ” He turned and fled down a narrow stone corridor. Erin following closely behind him. Mark didn ’ t know how long they ran through the twisting endless cavern. Erin was slowly lagging behind. Her breaths coming in short sharp gasps. The air was thin and Mark was feeling the effects as well. “ We have to keep going Erin. ” He pleaded. “ I just need to sit down. I can ’ t breathe. ” She gasped out painfully. She sat down heavily against the stone wall and wrapped her arms around her knees. Mark felt every death of his crew over and over as he ran. He was the Captain, they were his responsibility. He came to a stop in front of a set of stairs leading up. His mind reeled. It didn ’ t matter which direction he ran there was no escape. But up was better than being stuck in these tight tunnels. He came out of the tunnel near the carved stone arch. It ’ s height breaking up the bleak flat stone floor. Whistles and clicks echoed up the stairs behind him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He spun and flashed the light down the stairs. Climbing the stairs on all fours was a creature Mark could not believe. Its hunched body was covered in thick metallic scales. Long razor sharp claws extended from multi jointed arms. Mark ’ s eyes met the creatures. Two perfectly black orbs in the face of a woman. Her dark hair spilled down her scaled back. She opened her mouth revealing long black fangs. She leapt forward with amazing speed claws flashing. They tore deep chunks out of Mark ’ s chest. He spun and ran toward the arch. His weak oxygen deprived legs were barely moving. He could hear the creature ’ s claws scraping against the stone in pursuit. Wheezing and fighting for air he ran as fast as he could through the carved arch. Sunlight blinded him as he stumbled over sand. He tripped and landed face first on the beach. Squinting against the light he looked around. He looked back over his shoulder. A worn and weathered stone arch stood in the sand", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0023", "text": "vague. `` What are you saving mankind from?'' *'' Man. Kind. `` * It said. `` On whose orders?'' She snarled. *'' Mama's. Orders. `` * The droid answered. `` I want to speak to Mama. I order you to release me.'' She snapped, finally shaking off most of the anasthesia. The droid made a curious pulsing sound. It took her several moments to realize it was laughing. `` I want to speak to Mama.'' She cried, straining against the bands securing her to the table. *'' You. Will. Soon. `` * It told her. `` When?'' She demanded heatedly. *'' Now. `` * It told her, slowing down suddenly. It carefully inched forward and she watched as the sides of her own pod slowly appeared to either side of her. The table suddenly jerked and behind her there was a series of clicks as the table was secured in place. An arm snaked around from behind her and a needle was slowly pushed into a vein in her arm. Another arm came from the other side and did the same. The droid released the table and backed away, waiting for the automated system to plug its charge back into the pod. *'' You. Will. Receive. Thirty. Days. Furlough. From. Production. Duty. Next. Impregnation. To. Be. Administered. In. Thirty. Days. And. Congratulations. It. Was. A. Girl. `` * The droid told her. `` You said I could speak to Mama.'' The girl in the pod argued. *'' Behold. Mama. Speaks. `` * Over the intercom in the pod, a voice could be heard. She heard it bleeding out of the other pods as well. *'' Remember, children. The Mainframe loves you and wants you to be happy. Good night. * The voice said. `` That was Mama?'' She asked. *'' Yes. Now. Say. Thank. You. And. Good. Night. `` * It told her. She didn't want to say thank you. The mask with the gas slipped down over her head even as the glass door of the pod slid into position. She slowly drifted off. *'' Is. She. Done? `` * A new droid asked, wheeling in beside the first. *'' She. Is. And", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0024", "text": "Raph smiled. Caspeella could tell by the sound. She reached out and took Raph's hand. `` He's almost done.'' Raph told her. Caspeella shrugged. Raph had heard her do it enough he recognized the sound of her rustling feathers and knew it to be a shrug. `` Light? He's really going to give us light?'' Caspeella asked. Raph grabbed, taking her in his arms. He ran his fingers over the smoothness of her face, tracing her cheek and lips. He kissed her lips. `` He's giving us light.'' Caspeella whispered. `` No more seeing with our fingers. No more holding each other and imagining the look of love. I love you.'' She whispered. `` I know.'' He swallowed hard, licking his lips. `` He says there will be colors when the light comes on. He said that the darkness will hide from the light. He says the light with splinter into different hues, and we will know beauty beyond all we've ever known. He says the light will bring our eyes riches they have never touched. He says the light will bring the universe life and life will bring the universe love.'' She spun in a circle through the darkness. Her wings caught the breeze and lifted her into the air. `` We will have love.'' She sang. `` We already have love.'' Raph whispered. `` What if the light changes everything. We don't need it. We have each other. We don't know the light.'' He said. `` He says we do. He says we need it to chase away the demons so that his next creation can survive. We'll take ups swords and spears like Michael and harry them, and they will hide from the light, and we will have our love without them to spoil it.'' She told him jubilantly. `` What if it changes... us. What if you don't like my eyes or my face or my wings. What if you don't love me when there is light. What if it changes our love?'' Raph asked. `` I have these fears too. We have to trust him. He is a kind. Why would he create all this? He's filled the void with echoes and sounds and things. Remember how it was before? No. He is good. The light is good. We will have our love.'' Caspeella declared. `` He would not", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0025", "text": "he* was the one making sacrifices now. I smile at the thought until I remember the rest. Grandmother used to say that when times were hard, and no lives could be spared, people would offer their own life in exchange for the gods' help. *Even a drop of blood will do... * My eyes are drawn once again to the altar. It too is stone, any decoration long since rotted or worn away. The surface however, is indented like a bowl. The room takes on a more sinister feeling now. I can almost see smoke wafting from the torches on the wall. The skeletal priest looks as though he could leap from his seat at any moment. I look again at the altar. It feels almost... expectant. `` Fine!'' I say, if only to hear my own voice. I can spare a drop or two. I draw my knife from my belt and hold the blade to my wrist. My arms hover above the stone table, the sharp metal cold against my skin. I drag the edge quickly and lightly across my arm before rolling my eyes at how foolish I must look. Only a faint indentation appears, but I feel a slight burning sensation. I use my fingers to stretch the meager wound open until a line of red appears. I squeeze until I think there is enough. I turn my arm over, waiting nervously. I shake my arm as the bead forms, and eventually I am successful. A single red drop lands silently in the basin. I stare at it, the maroon liquid barely visible in the low lighting. I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding and shake my head at my own foolishness. I stare at my arm, wondering if we are truly so desperate, only to have my thoughts interrupted by the hairs on the back of my neck. My attention turns to the skeleton on the throne. It hasn't moved, but I suddenly feel uneasy at the thought of not having it in my sight. Then, a voice appears in my head, this time not my own. *My boy, I'm going to need more than that. *", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 434, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0026", "text": "felt regrettable to slaughter these younglings, but Anakin wasn ’ t even sure where he was anymore, whether he was even in the Jedi Temple or what room. The last hour was a blur of hijinks and pain. He rubbed his head and looked around. Where was he? It looked like he had ended up in the underground catacombs of the Temple. “ Hey, Master! Get a load of this! ” Anakin stared dumbly as the younglings hammer blow struck a supporting column of the ceiling. The ceiling gave way above his head. Looking up, he saw its occupant – sand. Sand everywhere. Anakin screamed in rage and fear, bringing his hands up to cover his face from the intrusive substance. He had lost access to reason; his anger had made him strong in the darkside, but weak in his ability to withstand plucky underdogs. It fell down upon him, like a rough and irritating blanket. As the coarse sand filled his lungs, he had only one thought; “ it ’ s getting everywhere! ” -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - Macally Kuo Khan, the eldest youngling, looked at the mound of sand in triumph. The plan had been a success, but there could be more bandits on their way. He and the others would have to reset the traps and prepare. -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - Hi, I don't write much at all, and I'm not good at all, but I loved the concept of merging Star Wars and Home Alone so I just took a crack at it.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 326, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0027", "text": "Billy had never been any good at solving riddles. He; d never been any good at using his head. His brother, Bobby, could sit there for hours riddling Billy, and laughing at the stupid answers Billy would say. `` What has teeth but no mouth?'' `` A Badger'' Billy still was n't any good at solving riddles. Yet he did not seem defeated or even curious when this 12 foot, dark brass talking door riddled him a question. `` The richest of men do not need it, but the poorest have it. It is more evil than any demon or devil. If you chose to eat it, you would die. What is it?'' It had been 4 minutes since the door spoke, and all billy had managed to do was stare, quite confidently might I add, at the door. Then he closed his eyes, thinking of anything and everything his mind could think of. His mouth began to move and the door's large eyes had begun to watch the lips. Had the door been stricter, like how a genie can be strict, he would of taken the small breath that Billy let out as the answer. If this door was in a bad mood, he might of taken that little groan as the answer, locked up and left Billy defeated. But he did n't. Instead, this miraculous door spoke again. `` What did you say, child?'' And Billy, unaware as usual, was shocked back into conciousness by this voice, and he replied as he should have. `` Nothing'' The door closed his eyes and swung open. Billy, still confused as to how he had answered, walked straight through. Still not any better at riddles.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 349, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0028", "text": "It has been fifty years since the inaugural re-distribution. Tomorrow we will go through another one. We ’ ll see how this great experiment has played out over the last half a century. This process has been carefully studied, so I don ’ t think there will be any surprises. There have been some unintended consequences, both immediately following the last re-distribution, and the days leading up to this one. As expected, there was a combination of despair and joy as those that were once wealthy saw their wealth disappear from their grasp, and as those who had little suddenly had a lot. There were riots when those who had grown accustomed to the lifestyle their wealth had provided were suddenly thrust into a life of poverty. Some had worked all their lives for their wealth. Others had inherited it. It was those that had inherited their wealth that started to riots. Those that had build up their wealth through their hard work felt some hope that they might be able to do it again. Though there were definitely people in that group that were just to tired to try again. And then there were those that suddenly received a great sum of money. They had gone to bed on the eve of the re-distribution poor, and had woken up wealthy beyond their wildest dreams. Obviously, there was much celebration in this crowd. Finally there were those whose lives didn ’ t change much. Their net worth had marginally changed in one direction or another. They may have been upset that they didn ’ t get more, but that was tempered by the relief that they hadn ’ t lost much. As the dust settled on the first re-distribution a few things started to happen. The biggest of which was the utter lack of motivation on all sides. Those that suddenly received a windfall hadn ’ t had any training on how to manage their new found wealth. Many of them squandered it on frivolous purchase, enjoying the things that had been out of reach for them in the past. It ’ s the common story of lottery winners. In a short amount of time they were back to where they were before. The previously wealthy were able to re-capture some of their wealth from the luxury commerce that the newly minted wealthy were generating. But a lot of them also recognized that in fifty years they would be back to that precarious position. The memory of losing everything they had worked for made it difficult to risk spending their lives pursuing wealth when it could all be taken away arbitrarily. So they stopped starting businesses", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0029", "text": "Akron returned to his room, another day gone and he was no closer to finding work. He was a good swordsman, but the army had just dismissed a legion of good swordsmen back to a kingdom who did not need a single one. He might have found work as a Night Patrolman had his unit been in one of the companies nearer home when the war was over. As it was, he and likely most of his brothers in arms were living on tabs and promises of payment. He was beginning to wonder how much farther he could make his'soldier's honor' stretch. He had nearly gone to bed when there was a knock at his door. He opened it to find an empty walkway. He stepped out to look down into the tavern and saw no one rushing for the door. When he turned back to his room he saw a note just on the other side of his door. It read, `` Akron, Meet at King's Fountain. I have work. - Pitch.'' Akron folded the note. Pitch had never been a brave man in the company, but he was the most resourceful. What he lacked in holding the line he more than made up for in his scrounging after the line no longer needed to be held, most of which he kept for himself. -- - Akron waited at King's Fountain as the letter asked. A chill swept through the empty square and he wished he had brought his coat. The hairs on his neck pricked when he heard a set of footsteps approaching. `` Akron old boy,'' a voice called, `` I didn't think you'd come.'' He held his arms out wide. Akron turned, `` You were right to think so,'' he replied, keeping his hands in his pockets. `` C'mon sarge,'' Pitch goaded, `` Is that any way to greet an old man-at-arms.'' `` As I recall, your arm stayed sheathed more often than not,'' Akron said back, a hint of bitterness coloring his words. If Pitch was disappointed he did not show it. `` You said you had work,'' he laid down his cards. They were not and had never been friends, but the promise of work bought Pitch a meeting. `` Alright,'' Pitch said, slumping a little, `` I work with one of the Mage Schools.'' Akron waved his hand, `` No,'' he said, `` No thank you, I'll have none of that.'' Pitch raised his palms, `` Please", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0030", "text": "And it sounded just like… My mouth fell open as I saw the stage. On it was currently Janis Joplin singing, the audience full of very familiar faces. “ Holy shit! ” I gasped as I saw Freddy Mercury getting ready to take the stage next. My view of the stage faded though as I was brought into a cabin. Andre the Giant laid me down on a bed and bid me farewell. “ The doctor will be here soon, ” Elvis said. “ You know, it ’ s funny. That plane crash. It ’ s got me all shook up. Anyways, I ’ ve got to go feed the hound-dog. I ’ ll let some people know about the plane crash. ” Elvis smiled and left the cabin. Looking around I noticed that it was a rather small and quaint cabin, some medical supplies stuffed into a corner and another bed next to mine. All of a sudden I watched as Superman brought someone in. Well, it was Christopher Reeves, able to walk again, and carrying the man in his arms and setting him down on the other bed. Heath Ledger stared at me. His whole body looked pretty bloodied and scarred up. “ We partied a bit too hard, ” Phillip Seymour Hoffman said from the doorway. “ Come on Supes, lets get going. ” I watched them leave as Heath glanced over at me, clearly in pain. “ Hey, new guy, want to know how I got these scars? ” Heath asked. I laughed and he smiled. And then a mysterious looking man walked in wearing a lab coat. He kept his face covered but kept cracking jokes. His voice sounded way too familiar. “ I assume Elvis already told you a little bit about the island, ” he said. “ It ’ s for those of us who died a bit too young. We just really needed to get away from the limelight. ” “ Really? ” I asked. It seemed rather unbelievable. “ Not really, ” he said revealing his face, a bright smile on it. “ If you end up here, it ’ s because you died too young. Before your time. So we get to live here and have some fun. That John Denver I ’ m telling you has a bit too much of it. He ’ s always on that Rocky Mountain if you get my drift. Haha. Rocky Mountain High. Seriously, you don ’ t know that song? Oh well. Anyways, it", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0031", "text": "I realized. I heard a guard walking towards me, perhaps he would yell at me some more, or perhaps I would fall to his baton, in hopes that I would break and beg for solace. I would not. `` Leopold?'' My head turned, how long has it been since I had heard my name? In here, names did not mean a thing. The guard's face shone with the light he had in his hand, my eyes scanned his face, and suddenly, I recognized who this man was, `` Franz!'' I had grown up with this man, many days in our childhood had we laughed and played together. Laughter and joy marked every day of our friendship, and the both of us enjoyed every minute of it. How happy we were as youths! Then the war had torn us apart, and I had departed away from him. Seeing him as a guard came to me as a heavy blow, could I blame him for being one? He was not a Jew, nor did he want to die, this I knew. I had thought to myself, `` Should I blame this man for my death?'' I shall not. The tears ran down my face, and I rested my head in between the bars that separated the two of us. In silence we stood, I knew this man would not be cruel. A tear dropped from my dear friend's face, `` You are going to die tonight my friend.'' He whispered slowly, his voice quaking. My head nodded in grave acceptance, `` I know.'' I said back. The tears began to drop freely onto the ground, he lifted his head, and I lifted mine. `` Be strong my friend.'' I urged him. `` Remember who you are, and remember me in my death.'' The bars creaked and groaned under the pressure Franz started to exert onto them. `` You were always the calm one,'' he croaked. `` And you the humorous one.'' I replied back. He laughed mirthlessly, `` What good is humor in this godforsaken place?'' `` Humor me just this once.'' I pleaded. He shook his head twice and grew silent. Moments went by, and all I could hear was the deep breaths the both of us shared,. Then he spoke. `` Jew didn't deserve this.'' Despite everything, I laughed.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 479, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0032", "text": "if JC didn't have enough shit on his plate. Peter was reaching his breaking point. Michael walked into the room. `` What's up my people? Heard through the cloud-line that we got ta Lazarus case on our hands? Am I sending someone back? Just give me the word and --'' Teresa chimed in: `` No because we don't have JC's sign-off. Peter knows this.'' God-damn whore. `` Teresa, take 15.'' `` I took my 15 107 years ago I'm not due for another until --'' `` TAKE 15 TERESA.'' Teresa glared at Peter and slowly shuffled out. About fucking time. Michael sat down in Teresa's chair and lit a cigarette. `` What seems to be the issue Pete? Something tells me you wan na expedite without the boss man signing off... Which I'm all for, but I'd at least like an explanation.'' Peter paused. He might as well get it off his chest. `` Listen, JC is bogged down and I don't wan na be the guy who tells him we got another potential Lazarus case... And if I have to deal with that headache, rest assured you will too.'' Michael smiled and ashed his cigarette on Teresa's desk. `` Alright Pete, I can swing it but we'll need to talk to Bon down in Hell if we want to swing it without Teresa sounding the alarm. I hate bureaucratic bullshit as much as the next angel but I also like my job and am not about to get shuffled off to Hell to work under Bon... the guy's been playing Highway to Hell on repeat since he moved into his new office. Fucking cock.'' `` Well, let's get it going then. I want this finished before Teresa comes back from her 15.'' We took the inter-dimensional tram over to Hell and, after lengthy, unnecessary vetting by the security guard, were let in. As we arrived at Bon's office the song `` Girls Got Rhythm'' blared from the inside. `` At least he switched things up. This is a jam. Reminds me of a party I was at in Sodom & Gomorrah, Lot was hooking up with a straight 10. A shame, really.'' All the suits outside of Bon's office were surprisingly professional. Truth be told, it looked like they had a more efficient system than Peter had over in Heaven. When Peter and Michael entered Bon's office he was in", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0033", "text": "ifiable. The sheer amount of *how the hell do things like this happen* was an affront to sanity. Fixing this would require money he wasn't sure actually existed. The thought of razing the place not being quite enough entered his mind. Sure, they agreed to pay an exorbitant amount of money to the firm in order to fix this place, but he had a creeping sensation that this would be the first thing he couldn't help with. `` Please don't tell me that the professor is half-banshee.'' He whispered. `` That's preposterous. Banshees and humans can't interbreed. Though some of the plants kill if you hear them scream, so you were kind of close on that point. Still, not nearly as common as the ones that just strangle people to death.'' said Aurora. `` Plants that scream?'' `` Oh yeah, they look like little babies. We teach the kids how to cut them up. We give them protective gear for their ears though.'' `` You... teach... children... to... cut... up... BABIES?'' `` No, just things that *look* like babies.'' At this point, Daniel threw down his notepad, and just kept silent. There was no way that he could deal with the amount of crazy here. Actually, he wasn't sure he wasn't crazy anymore. Surely, there had to be better things to do with his life. Aurora called a house elf. When she explained that they were a slave race, he just walked away. Nothing would be enough to make Hogwarts sane, let alone a proper business.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 329, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0034", "text": "it can cost you.'' `` I understand that if you refuse to defend this city as Kamaya Catboy, someone has to take your place,'' said Maaya. She pointed her staff at my own and fired a magical beam of lighting, causing me to drop it. Just like her mother, she was much more powerful than I, and far more stubborn. If she wanted to fight evil, I couldn't stop her. In the distance there was another rumble. Some great Kaiju or some other damn thing was rising from the sea to have a bit of a snit at the city. Maaya took to the air, like an avenging angel. `` I'm going, father,'' she said, `` Please don't banish me from home for disobeying you.'' I couldn't stop myself from crying. `` No. Your mother would never forgive me.'' As Maaya flew off I picked up my staff. Something I swore to never pick up again. As I watched Maaya fly into battle through teary eyes, my son Yukio approached me. It was obvious he knew the whole time his younger sister was a magical girl. `` I don't suppose you have some great secret to share with me?'' I asked, stupidly. Yukio transformed into a black mage. At least the outfit was tasteful, especially compared to his sister. `` She can use a little help, she's a beginner you know,'' he said. He had a point. Together we took to the air like a team of superheroes, defending the city. If I could not keep my children from danger, the least I could do was train them at my best to gain victory.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 341, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0035", "text": "for work. It was only then I realised I was shorter. My back didn ’ t hurt. My mother left, and I sat there in silence. I looked at my desk, there was my old bulky CRT monitor. I looked at the TV, and it had a video player under it, and was also a CRT and took up most of the space in the cabinet at the end of my bed. What? Was going? On? I stumbled out of bed and went for a shower. There was no mistaking it, I was young again. 14ish? I went started to get dressed, and quickly realised I didn ’ t have a shirt because I wasn ’ t a senior. I had a polo shirt. I wore it with some trousers that clearly needed replacing. I was still struggling to believe this was happening. I checked my phones date, it was August 1999. I got myself some toast, struggling to reach the toaster. I put on some apricot jam I found in the cupboard as my step brother walked in “ Toast and Jam? You only eat peanut butter. ” “ I feel like a different person today. ” I replied while eating toast. I grabbed my backpack, checked I had my main subjects books and left for school. As I left the area I saw a girl from the year above me I ’ d never had the courage to talk to. “ You ’ re Sophie, right? ” She turned around. “ Yeah. Mike is it? You ’ re Jane ’ s friend. So looking forward to the new school year? ” She asked in a far too happy sound. “ Does anyone ever look forward to school? ” I replied with the cadence of a 29 year old insurance underwriter who ’ d seen many a terrible grey Monday morning. Today was nice though, sunny, and warm. “ Ha ha. I know. So you go anywhere over the summer? ” She asked. “ Sophie, I feel like I ’ ve been gone a lifetime. ”", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 408, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0036", "text": "ended whenever she gets scared that Dora the Explorer was turning into a mermaid and she would start crying. Every day with her is a constant reminder that is, and always will be the greatest thing that ever happened to me. That's why I always pictured that I can't die. Not today. Not ever. I think it was my adrenaline that fights off the cancer. Ever heard of how we could basically do anything if we just focus hard enough on doing said thing? I concentrated damn hard on surviving. On living, not leaving. Wednesday came, and I was still the helpless, semi-dead, motionless pile of crap engulfed in the hospital bed that I may have pissed on. I felt repugnant. `` Mr. Stone, might I have a word with you?'' It was Dr. Perry. He was one of those doctors with the reassuring smiles that seemed to tell you that everything was going to be fine. That Wednesday, he was not wearing one of those smiles. I stared at him for a long time, eager to squeeze something out of him that didn't need to be spoken. That's how I examined witnesses during trials. That's how people are, give them a cold hard stare and they give off clues about and I didn't need words coming out of their mouths to know. Based on their fidgeting and the sweat running down their necks, I instantly knew whether they were telling the truth or not. That's how I earned the name, `` Male Medusa''. Said that I could turn anyone into stone just by looking at them. Fitting, for my name. `` What is it, doc?'' I gave up looking at him. This wasn't a trial. I can't win this. `` I regret to inform you, Mr. Stone, but the cancer has spread all throughout your body. How you withstood the cancer always astounded us, but we knew that this was inevitable. Your parents have decided to take you off life support. They can't pay the bills, and they said that neither could you,'' the doctor said grimly. ***No, *** I thought. I can't. `` Your daughter is here to see you.'' With that, I push myself up. I tried to stand, but I stagger, and Dr. Perry sits me down. `` Mr. Stone, please, I'll bring her to you. No need for that,'' said Dr", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 493, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0037", "text": "He ran his fingertips across the smooth surface of the picture. Her smile met with his and for a brief moment the sound of her laughter danced across the room. A tear fell on the old photograph, stirring up the dust that had accumulated over the years. `` Oh, Bonnie'', the man whispered. He adjusted his glasses and began to work his way through the stack of photos sitting at the bottom of a beaten old chest, stopping again on another picture. Bonnie, in her wedding gown, gazing out the window of a magnificent castle towards the sunset. Bearing a look of tranquility as she reflected on the day. `` My, my she looks beautiful'', he said, feeling a lump in his throat lurch its way through. The man flipped through more pictures, stirring up old memories and emotions. Each picture drawing a laugh, a sigh, or simply a glancing twinkling eye reminiscing on a life spent with her. After a long while he slowly stood up and walked over to the corner of the room, sitting down with a grunt. He stared out the window to watch the sunset fall behind the tall mountain peaks, where under the tree in the front yard and old friend lay gently beside her gravestone. Feeling the urge to join, he gingerly walked through the creaking tree house eventually making it out to the yard. The man ran his callused hands across the top of the gravestone and gave his friend a pat on the head. `` We've sure had some wonderful adventures together, have n't we Jake? ``, he said followed by an approving nod. As the sky darkened the two friends walked back towards the house, where the man turns around as to give one last goodbye. `` I will always love you, my Princess.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 356, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0038", "text": "She knows what happens next because we are the hurricane and we are the flame. Her wings are wet when she returns home to me tonight. The circle of fire that binds us together reflects in the tiny droplets on her blackdark wings - she lands, alight with the flame on my outstretched hands. I hold her close and she rests her weary head against my cold, white neck. I know that the rain has begun and nothing will stop it until the wicked city is washed away. I know because I brought the rain. I brought the rain because I ’ ve been watching from a dark and dreamy world away. The night she first crash-landed into my arms, she cried and told me the story of how she came to be so battered and bruised. She took me to her home and I watched while her world was ravaged by fear and by hate. I watched and held her at night while she cried and begged for my help. I laid by her side and I strengthened my bond to her tortured world until I was strong enough to bring the rain that will wash it away. And now here is my darling, worn weary from the battle she so willing fights, traveling faithfully between our two worlds. Her wings beat ever so softly against the fate of her world, creating new and beautiful patterns when she flies to my side. She is shot from the sky time after time, and still she returns to me, bruised and sometimes broken. I hold my precious, wounded bird gently against my heart. I promised her rain. And after the rain, I will bring the fire. I studied her world while she slept. I mastered the laws of nature in her world as I have in mine. I learned to control the tide that is tethered to her beating heart and the winds that are now controlled by her sleeping sighs. She doesn ’ t know the power I breathe into her when we meet in her dreams. I protect her from the chaos that she helps me create by clouding her memory of me while she ’ s awake. I have whispered my secrets into the girl ’ s ear while she sleeps. I have wanted her to know what I have planned for her world. I want her to know because our fates are now one and I know that one day she will remember. I need her to live so that she will continue to dream. In her dreams is where I find her, and from there that I work. When she wakes,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0039", "text": "and prune juice I asked for as I set my travel pillow behind my head. Shoving my Memorex ear phones, connected with my iPod, I nestled in to the ever so fraudulently comfortable airplane seats and drifter away, suddenly envious of the 1st class fliers with their bed-like seat structure. Dreams, so vivid it felt like they weren ’ t just actual life, but a part of my soul, crashing through my mind as if they were freight trains without the hindrance of brakes. The dreams came in the forms of odd, slow, and jumbled images. The images twisted around as if imitating an owl ’ s head movement were blurring by my vision, Twisted images all indistinguishable yet, all causing a sense of panic, an almost pain like feeling. Suddenly awake as if in the blink of an eye I reared my head to the left with a slight gasp, Cold sweat grasping my body in waves causing me to shiver uncontrollably, being asleep for only 40 minutes felt like days as I groggily sat forward, rubbed the sleep from my eyes, withdrawing the buds from my ears I withdrew my laptop from my checked bag as if it would send some comfort to myself having that homily item to rely on. Never leaving home without the square centrality of my life holding everything from work, play, and the pictures of my kids all in one place, astounding the advances of technology truly are as I click the power button and wait for the startup blinking followed by the encouraging tune of music that plays upon arriving at the password page. CNN, my trusted news source for the last 5 years of my journalism career, anywhere from the cold facts to the stony, dumb bastards running this country, however what I saw upon arriving at the home page was numbing, a shock as if the family dog had just been hit by a vehicle. The flight, the damned flight MY ticket has listed on it 357. “ Gone, Disappeared, or severely off course, American Airlines flight 357 goes dark! ” I glance around the aircraft in which all members are still resting as if nothing at all could be the bother. I un-click my seat restraint and move towards the bathroom with a sickly feeling tormenting my stomach as if you just spilled the milk and your step father doesn ’ t like wet shoes. I make my way towards the rest room moving slowly as if in molasses almost to", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0040", "text": "Arista stood frozen on the sand a safe distance from the edge of even the most ambitious wave. Her heart racing as she looked out to the ocean. She willed herself to move forward with every ounce of courage she could muster but her feet remained steadfastly planted. Her childhood friend Todd bobbed in the water motioning for her to join him. Todd and Arista spent the last week practicing for this day. The day Arista conquered her fear of drowning. Todd took Arista to a larger body of water every day and worked on overcoming her aquaphobia, starting with a kiddie pool in her back yard and finally ending up here at the beach. Todd would go in first then slowly Arista would follow until both were calm and floating in the middle. Arista hated herself for having such an idiotic fear especially considering she should be the last person on the planet with a fear of water. Todd swore to himself to accept his friend ’ s unusual situation and do everything in his power to help her and he had picked up a few tricks along the way. He saw Arista wasn ’ t moving forward so he did the same thing he had done every time so far, he moved deeper in the water, she knew if she wanted him to stop she would have to get in or he would just keep going he was an excellent swimmer and comfortable in deep water. What Todd didn ’ t notice was the rip current warning signs and suddenly he found himself being whisked away from the shore. The waves intensified and he was having difficulty staying above water. He looked back to the beach and Arista was running along the edge of the water calling for him to swim out, but he couldn ’ t, he was gasping for air and inhaling more water than oxygen, he gave one final glance at Arista before he was submerged completely and unable to resurface. Arista refused to stand by and watch her best friend perish. She pushed down her fear and ran as fast as her legs would carry her toward the water. Her phobia replaced with long lost instincts. Her feet splashed twice as she entered the water and she dove beneath a large wave. The second her toes and legs were submerged with the rest of her body in the salty water they shifted back to their natural state. No time to waste she used her newly restored turquois tail and large fins to thruster her forward toward the last place she had seen Todd. Her eyes adapted to the salt", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0041", "text": "planning on the ring and proposal. She liked emeralds over diamonds. White gold over yellow. She was a simple girl with simple pleasures, just looking to rediscover her roots and settle down. The sensation came to me in a flood. I knew it meant that she loved me back and I rejoiced. It was a common bond that could never be broken. She was truly my souls mate. I stopped for flowers in the morning and noticed the cashier as if for the first time. She walked weakly on her left foot, perhaps due to an old cheer-leading injury. She was slow and I knew I could break her neck as quickly as a cat's and deposit her body behind the dumpsters where no one would discover it until I was safely out of town. I vomited and left the building without the flowers, leaving the cashier with a questioning look upon her face. My Anna had the answers and I knew it would be a rational one. She was sitting on the sofa with eyes that looked like she'd spent the night crying. She embraced me when she saw me and my fears evaporated in the air between us. There had to be an explanation. This was meant to be a happy occasion after all, but even as I held her, I knew I thought of all the ways I could kill her and how easy it would be to slip a knife between her third and fourth rib into her heart. My eyes strayed to the kitchen. I felt her heart beating against my chest and thought of the ways I could separate it from her body. I knew it would have to be cooked on a low heat to keep in the juices and that the human heart was best paired with Pinot Noir. I loved her and in spite of myself, my stomach grumbled.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 359, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0042", "text": "pretty dress and himself down on one knee. But somehow, through his fatigue-addled brain, the words slipped out. `` Wan na marry me?'' ***** *11th March 2023* Matthew was crying in the shower again. She hadn't shouted, she hadn't been angry with him. Perhaps it would have been easier if she had; maybe he could have blamed her if she'd left with anything other than a comforting hand on his arm and a few soothing words. *'' It's not that I blame you, you know it's not. None of this is your fault. It's just...'' Tears sparkled in her eyes. `` I can't cope with it any more. The hospital visits- they're never going to end. `` * *'' Isabel, please...'' * *'' And I don't know how make ends meet at the same time as looking after you, it's just too much. And- and I always hoped I'd have a baby, and-'' She broke off. * *'' Please...'' * *'' I'm sorry, Matthew. You know I love you. `` * ***** *30th April 2024* He felt so weak. He was constantly in pain, tired and sick. He'd had just about every side effect of treatment that was possible, from nausea to diarrhoea to constipation to shaking to bouts of confusion to freaking sexual dysfunction. And to add insult to injury, after eight and a half years of chemotherapy, his veins were well and truly shot. So he couldn't even consider becoming an intravenous drug abuser. Whoever said, `` What doesn't kill you makes you stronger,'' was a complete and utter moron, and if Matthew's arms didn't feel like they were made of lead, he'd punch them in the teeth. `` How are you feeling today?'' Matthew hadn't even heard Dr Morton enter the room. He turned dull eyes towards the doctor. `` I want to stop my treatment.'' Perhaps he was immortal, but the cost of immortality was his life.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 421, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0043", "text": "over at the Grim Reaper, who waved his bony hand at her. Her eyes widened with terror, and she screamed. Running towards the kitchen, she brought back a knife and pointed it towards the Grim Reaper. `` GET AWAY FROM MY BOYFRIEND!!'' She stepped into the room, trying to find the Grim Reaper's eyes. `` I am not afraid to stab you to death!'' The bony hands took off the hood, revealing a skull. `` I'm not here to collect anybody's soul today, OK?'' He raised his hands in the air. `` Please put the knife down, it's making me uncomfortable. What is is with you guys and knives?'' I walked over to my girlfriend and took the knife out of her hand. `` It's ok, honey. If he were here for either of us, one of us would have been dead already.'' `` I am very good at my job, thank you very much.'' The Grim Reaper bowed pleasantly. After she calmed down, my girlfriend spoke up. `` If he isn't here for our souls, then what is the Grim Reaper doing here?'' `` I'm so glad you asked!'' He smiled from cheek to cheek, despite the fact that he had no face. `` We fellow nerds need to unite and wallow in our nerd-dom.'' `` So, you're telling me that you are only here because I'm a nerd.'' I pushed my glasses up. `` Tell me what you've got.'' Rummaging through his cloak, the Grim Reaper pulled out a large duffle bag. Placing it on the desk, he unzipped it and pulled out several Magic cards. `` Are you a big Magic Fan?'' He stared at me with enthusiastic eyes. My mind raced frantically for a good answer. I had played magic once, but had hated it. I played Warhammer 40K, since a 3D model was much more exciting than a 2D playing card. But could I tell the Grim Reaper that? I looked at my girlfriend, and her lips said that we needed to go outside. `` Hey, I got ta go to the restroom,'' she said. Jumping out of my blanket, she quickly rushed outside. I turned to the grim reaper. `` Would you like some water?'' `` No thanks,'' he replied. `` Thanks for the offer.'' `` Ok, I'm getting something to drink.'' I quickly", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0044", "text": ". `` What can't you do anymore? Are you okay? `` He needed to be sure this man, whoever he was, wasn't going to harm himself. He was slower than he normally was, when he was on call he always expected to be woken up, but this night he wasn't on point. The haze of sleep still clung to his body and his mind. `` I'm not okay, the world is going to shit, and there doesn't seem to be anything I can do.'' `` Sir, it isn't your job to fix the world, I know it's hard to see all the suffering but it isn't your fault. You need to focus on your life and figure out what's best for you.'' `` Isn't my fault? How can you possibly say that? I've spent my entire life trying to do right by everyone. But you know what Lucy? You really can't please everyone. No one cares about anyone but themselves. I tried you know? I tried so hard, it ’ s a losing battle. No one really wants help, they want to make themselves better, richer, handsomer, and where does that leave me? How can I make it work?'' The man felt for this poor soul. How hard life was already without thinking you had to fix everyone. Hell, he felt that way sometimes, when someone took their own life? How could he not blame himself. He was the one they reached out to for help and he couldn't fix it. He felt every single one of his patients deaths like they were close friends, they were his personal failings. “ Look, people are the way they are and you can ’ t try to fix them all, no one can. That ’ s their life, yours is yours too. I can help you, tell me what made you feel this bad tonight? ” “ A child died, bone cancer, they didn ’ t catch it in time. He went within three months, he was 7. His name was Tommy and he wanted to be a baseball player. He was the best one on his team in little league. His parents were told they couldn ’ t have kids, Tommy was a miracle. I love miracles. ” The voice went further away, like the man on the other end of the phone wasn ’ t really talking to him anymore, just talking. “ No one really believes in miracles anymore, you", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 491, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0045", "text": ", a long rubber tube ran down his neck into the folds of his robes. His legs were artificial, all four of them. Standing in place, the primitive A.I. of the limbs flexed ever so slightly, swaying gently back and forth with the wind. Three fingers of the priest ended in metal digits, each one with a separate task. He made a sign with his hand in front of him, murmuring in Anglish as he did so. `` Good day, Lord Markus. I have come to tell you it is done. Your grandfather's remains have been interned in the catacombs. May he travel along the path to paradise.'' `` So mote it be.'' Markus replied. `` Thank you. Is there anything else you wish to tell me?'' `` Yes there is.'' The priest said, spider limbs clanking as he moved forward. Well oiled pistons shifted as he neared the new count. He extended a small scroll. `` Here is the newest rolls for the knights' fees and services. Within the Barony of Grunwald there is approximately five warmechs, three belonging to your knights, and two in your own stable. There are 18 Sergeants-At-Arms with Powered Battle Armor. Six with you my lord, and four each for Sirs Laurenz, Kuno and Ebbe. In addition, the 34th Infantry Regiment has since last season, 846 men on its rolls. Colonel Isaak can give you a more detailed report should you desire it.'' `` Yes, I think I would. Thank you, Father Faustus.'' A pause. `` Faustus, what do you believe I should do?'' `` Whatever you think best my lord.'' Came the mechanical reply. Like most of the priest, his voice was also artificial. Lord Markus rubbed his face in tiredness. `` I'm nothing like my grandfather. He was wise and strong and brave and-'' `` And so are you, my lord.'' Interrupted the priest. `` Fear not. You are young, thrust into responsibilities you did not expect to handle until much later. You will be a good and just ruler. Whatever you lack, me and you advisers will fill. Everything will be fine my lord.'' A pause as his re-breather cycled, hissing gas. `` Will you be up for the vigil?'' The young noble nodded. `` I will, Father Faustus. Thank you.'' `` Of", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0046", "text": "on the side of the road. He left his hands on the steering wheel looking straight ahead. The woman looked out of the window. Beside the road between the trees she could see an old graveyard. The town it belonged to has been abandoned a long time ago. The only sounds were the rain splashing against the car and the ticking of the turn signal. After what almost seemed like an eternity, the woman freed an arm from under the coat and grasped for the door handle. “ This is where I get out, ” she whispered and opened the door. “ I know, ” said the driver, “ Like every year before. But you don ’ t have to. ” “ Why not? ” “ Maybe it ’ s time to move on? ” “ Why? ” “ Why not? What business do you still have here? ” “ I… ” The woman still clutched the handle of the half opened door. Cold and humid air flowed into the car from the outside. “ I don ’ t remember anymore. ” “ Maybe it wasn ’ t that important after all? ” the driver suggested. Slowly driver turned around. His bony face with its stoic grin looked familiar to her, like an old friend that was always with you without you really noticing. “ Maybe it ’ s time to move on and leave this world behind? ” he said, “ I will bring you wherever you want. ” “ I don ’ t remember anymore, ” she whispered. A myriad of emotions swapped over the her face. It was as if she expected a great load weighting on her only to suddenly realise it has been gone a long time ago. She looked outside in the rain. Somewhere there was her grave. “ Was it important? ” she asked herself and shook her head. “ It was at the time. ” She looked at the skull of her driver and said. “ But not anymore. ” She slowly closed the door and wiped her wet arm into the black cloak. “ Oh, sorry about that ”, she said with a worried look at the wet spot in the fabric. It disappeared almost instantly. “ No worries, ” said the driver. “ It ’ s been through much worse. ” The woman nodded. With a breath of relieve she straightened herself up on the back seat of the car. Suddenly she felt so very tired. She wrapped herself into the black cloak and leaned her head against the window. “ I am ready, ”", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0047", "text": "have.'' `` With this knowledge, however, came warning of how Humanity came to its end. THEY WARNED US OF THE ENEMY. They showed us how our world was before the reaping. They lamented they could not give us a greater world to grow on. They sacrificed themselves so that WE could continue!'' The force in that last sentence brought up a cheer from the entire ship. NovaPrimates, NovaFelines, NovaCanines, NovaMarsupials and many other species all let out the roar of their people. The noise was tremendous, like an entire planet shouting in chorus. `` THINK of the lives we could have had on an unscathed planet. Think of the ruin our ancestors had to sift through to gain anything. Think of the planet denied to us by an Enemy who's one purpose is to take. AND most of ALL, remember Those who brought you here. Humanity once held the mantle of protector of E'rth. That mantle was ripped from Them, but not before They guaranteed our ability to survive on the world that was left behind. We will not allow their legacy to be lost, that mantle falls to us now. Centuries ago, the Enemy came from the heavens to destroy and take all they could. But now we will come to their homes, take what is theirs and remind them of the devastation they have wrought! The Enemy will tremble at humanities answer, and We will see that that Answer is Brutal. We are Humanities children, and we will see the retribution for our Fathers.'' With that the Alpha lowered the sound bead from his mouth and looked around the command floor. Crewman were either in ecstasy, cheering as loud as their lungs would allow, or silent, in aw of the momentous burden they had. Good, they would need to be ready in their own ways. The Alpha then looked at Cora and pointed with one huge paw. `` I believe we are ready.'' `` I believe we are, my Alpha.'' `` Then tell the fleet we jump now, and may Humanities hands be around us, as they always have.'' EDIT: Part 2 `` And we will see retribution for our Fathers...'' click... `` I can't believe this is happening! Jor! Can you believe this is happening!'' The young ape was wild, jumping and pounding on his chest. `` We are the ones! My father talked of this day! And his father! and his father! The", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0048", "text": "It had happened again. I woke up in a blank white room with an almost faceless man, I mean he must have had a face, its just that I could n't make it out... I do n't know why this felt so familiar. Before my mind could wonder, he began as he always did. `` How do you feel right now?'' `` Fine'' I replied. By this point I knew there was no point in asking questions. He would ask his questions and then... I do n't know what happened after that. I mean I vaguely remembered bits and pieces of... `` Do you know why you are here?'' the interviewer interrupted my train of thought. `` No... wait... I- I did something...'' I struggled to remember why I was here, what I had done to get here, where here was even, but before I could make sense of it he began with his next question. `` What does it mean to be a good person?'' `` What does it mean to be a bad person?'' `` Are you a good person or a bad person?'' `` How can you be a better person?'' The interviewer rattled his questions off and I answered them as best I could. I had trouble following him most the time and I am sure my answers came out incoherent at best. It was this place... My mind seemed... almost in a daze as if waking up on an operating room table staring into the light. Nothing quite made sense, yet it seemed like it was as it should be. At a point the questions stopped and it seemed he was lecturing me on kindness and caring. As the lecture continued my world became fuzzier, and I more disoriented. As I began to lose myself in a void of unconscious confusion the world seemed to disappear in a flash. It had happened again. I woke up in a blank room with a faceless man. It felt so familiar... `` How do you feel right now?''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 403, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0049", "text": "exactly the problem!'' I said. `` That means that God isn't some all-knowing all-powerful being filled with love for His creation that wants only the best for them. It means He's some schlub like me!'' `` Well none of us are really up to those standards, but this simulation shows our potential, it-'' `` No, it doesn't.'' I replied. `` You've looked at the relativity end, right? The time dilation proves it, right?'' `` Yes.'' `` But have you looked at the other end of the scale? Quantum mechanics? They still haven't unified that with this simulation theory, by the way.'' `` I'll admit to not knowing much about QM, but now that we know we're simulated that means there are underlying rules.'' I laughed. `` I'm not a quantum mechanic, so I have to go with people a lot smarter than me on this one, but they already disproved that. It's called the Hidden Variable theory, and it doesn't work, not for local variables.'' John shrugged again. `` So there are global variables.'' `` I know you're not a programmer,'' I said, `` so you can't quite understand the terrible dread that fills my heart when I hear the words'global variables'. But even without that, just look at the behavior of the system. It's *non-deterministic*. Particles appear out of nowhere and then vanish, but sometimes they don't. Electrons decide to be in one place and then another without traversing the intervening space. Which way is this thing spinning? Both, until you asked just now!'' `` There are a lot of mysteries, but I'm sure-'' `` You don't get it!'' I was trying not to shout at my old friend. `` They're not mysteries. That's the answer. The universe behaves that way because that's how it was written: As a kludge that only manages to work together in the aggregate, and even then it's buggy as shit when you start messing around at that level.'' John looked aghast. `` Listen, that kind of talk... I know I'm new to this thing, but I want what's best for you. If you don't believe, how will you get preserved forever in the Eternal Backup?'' I laughed out loud. I couldn't help it. I couldn't even stop for a few", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 491, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0050", "text": "I was having a pretty normal vacation until today. I was lying at the beach, browsing Reddit and getting a tan. Suddenly, everything got dark and before I knew it, I heard the sound of a huge explosion and a lightning bolt flashed in front of my face. The shock traveled through my body and I fell to the ground. I remember waking up in the emergency room of a hospital with a doctor standing beside carrying some papers. As I regain consciousness, I feel different in a way I can't explain. The doctor tells me that I'll be fine and that no serious injuries occurred, thankfully. As I resume normal life, I feel infinite, like I can do anything if I set my mind to it. As I enter my house, everything seems to fall into place and I take a mental inventory of my life upto this point. This all happens in an instant. I observe my surroundings, immediately, I notice everything wrong with my place and my body acts of its own mind and begins cleaning my apartment. I had wanted to do this at some point in my life, but now, I feel like there is no excuse for me not to do this. Fifteen minutes later, everything about my room seems so perfect and it looks like a place I would want to live the rest of my life in. I lay on my couch for a while, but I am restless. I want to do something, the first things that comes to mind is writing. Yeah, I am a writer, and yeah, I have not written a single word the past year. As I begin to write, everything seems to happen automatically. I put one word in front of another until I have written an entire chapter. When I glance at the clock, I realize how much time has passed, I was so lost in writing that time passed me by really quickly. Immediately, I put on my workout clothing and go to the gym. As I walk there, I am thinking about how perfect of a day this will be. I am loving this. I am careful not to over-train as it is my first day but after the workout is finished, I feel a sense of accomplishment and this makes me really happy. A huge smile spreads across my face and I feel infinite. On my walk back home, I think of all the relationships in my life and how I was so careless about them. I make a decision to remedy this, I call up my best friend who I had not talked to", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0051", "text": "an answer. It was a question that he had always wondered but feared to ask. It was enticing yet too taboo to ask. The one time he dared to, the last Death only gave him a stern look to signal that he had stepped out of bounds. “ I don ’ t know. Heaven? Hell? Maybe there is no place for people like us. ” The words flowed from his mouth without his consent, every private thought being broadcasted. When he saw this wasn ’ t reassuring the apprentice, he dammed what remained in his mind. “ Why don ’ t we kill the Fates and stop this cycle? Who is gaining from it, anyway? ” He questioned, pointing his scythe at Death. “ Don ’ t say such foolish things. The Fates are unstoppable and trying to usurp will only get you sent back to your previous life on Earth. You don ’ t want that, do you? ” The apprentice shuddered, an answer without words. “ Then stop stalling and do your duty as the new Death. You deserve the title much more than I. ” The apprentice nodded, his hands shaking with nervousness. He took a step towards Death and then another, reluctance plastered on his face. Once he was within arm ’ s reach, he lifted the scythe above his head with perfect form. “ Now do what I taught you. You know what to do. ” He hesitated but once he gained enough courage brought the scythe down on Death. The cold metal running across his chest was a strange sensation. It neither hurt nor felt pleasant. Instead, it was a feeling stuck in a limbo that he couldn ’ t describe. From the wound, a dark aura emanated forth which enveloped the apprentice. He looked terrified at first but as more came he adjusted to it. Death could do nothing else but watch the succession to his legacy. Once the aura finished pouring from him and absorbed into the apprentice, he fell to the ground. His limbs started to lose their feeling – his fingers and toes first slowly creeping towards his torso. The apprentice kneeled beside him as he faded away. “ I ’ m proud of you. ” Death mumbled weakly with the last of his strength. “ You were the best apprentice I could ever hope for. ” No, he wasn ’ t an apprentice anymore – he was Death. With nothing left, he became a husk. The new Death felt the tears brimming in", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0052", "text": "As I sat on the floor staring at my hands all I could think was that I'd need to call a plumber soon. It's funny how your mind can move to such oddly simple thoughts after such a traumatic experience. My hands were still stained red, and my biggest worry was that I could n't get the water hot enough to scrub them fully clean. I could have done it eventually of course, but the feeling of the lukewarm water flowering over my fingers was far too reminiscent of another more foul fluid that had recently graced my hands. I had to stop before I let out a sob. I could n't wake my boys and let them see the dark and thick pool that was still slowly growing on my newly stained carpet. The television threatened to do just that however; it was making such am ugly noise. I vaguely recognized it as an emergency broadcast tone as the announcer began to speak. Most of what he said was lost to my shock riddled mind but here or there I could make out a few words. I giggled to myself thinking `` I guess we have a real war on drugs now'' as he said something about terrorists using hallucinogens to cause Americans to fight one another. My giggle turned to a terrified squeak as I heard the door open. It was another intruder. I had killed his two partners before him and now he was going to kill me. `` Mary... good god what have you done?'' I had to keep my boys safe from this man. My hands shook as I reached again for the kitchen knife. `` He sounds so much like my husband,'' I thought as I made my way towards him.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 336, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0053", "text": "Who the hell are you?'' I asked. `` A friend.'' He shot back. He pulled a jar from inside his jacket and shook it. He rolled it up the hallway. A dozen more angels emerged from a door at the far end of the hallway. They abruptly skidded to a halt upon noticing the jar, which had begun shaking and emitting a painfully bright light. `` We're gon na wan na leave.'' My new accomplice barked. He half shoved, half threw me through the door. I tumbled out of Heaven and into Earth rather unceremoniously. A massive explosion chased us out the door. He jumped up and slammed the door shut. He pounded on the door triumphantly. `` Try getting through that before next week you uptight bastards!'' He crowed. I noticed the wings at this point and climbed to my feet shakily. `` You're an angel?'' I asked. `` There is a lot you don't know, Brother.'' He said. `` That means everything I heard about the civil war was...'' `` Later.'' He hissed. `` The Earth garrison will be on our trails very soon. We didn't exactly land quietly.'' He gestured at me to follow him and began walking. `` Do you have a name?'' `` Azazel.'' He said simply. He tossed me a balled up pile of human clothing. `` Your armor is going to stick out like a sore thumb.'' I looked down at the golden armor I was wearing. It was my last connection to who I was. Ezriel, loyal warrior of the Host. I stared at the clothes in my hand for a long second while Azazel paced nervously. I stripped out of my armor and donned the human clothes I had been given. It just felt... wrong. `` There we go. Less angelic warrior, more Steve from the apartment next door.'' He grinned. He passed me what look like a butterfly knife. He nodded at me to open it. I flipped it open and saw the markings. `` this looks like it was forged in-'' `` Not quite.'' He cut off my question. `` We have a weapons guy down here too. That's less conspicuous than the sword.'' I nod and pass him my sword. I'm past the point of no return at this point. He makes a quick gesture with his fingers and the blade disappears. We walk down the street, blending in with the", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0054", "text": "lookers. As he rounded the corner in the warehouse, he heard a loud gunshot. Jeff spun around, dual magnums in hand. Unfortunately, the source of the gunshot likely came from Jeff's harley falling over onto the asphalt. *Damn kickstand is so tricky. Got ta remember next time I come to one of these warehouse deals. * Jeff put his condoms back in his pockets and moved on. He walked by the Gulfstream IV jet parked just inside the warehouse, wondering why anyone would park a jet in Frank's warehouse. As he approached, the door to the jet opened and out walked a man in an eyepatch. `` Excellent. He has arrived. And you must be Jeff, yes?'' `` HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME!?!'' Jeff howled at the oddly familiar man. The man stared down Jeff in an attempt at dominance, but Jeff had heavy metal pumping in his brain and could not be stopped. The man walked up to Jeff, slowly but assuredly. `` Jeff. I've been waiting for this day for a long time. Did you not recognize your own sister at the restaurant?'' Jeff squinted his eyes in silent shock. `` What? But then...'' The pregnant pause went on for an eternity, a solid 25-30 seconds. `` Papa?'' Jeff asked. The man in the eyepatch nodded slightly, and gestured towards Jeffs right pocket. Jeff pulled out his magnum condom and stared at his father with a confused look. The man shook his head and gestured again to Jeff's pockets. Jeff reached within and pulled out his fortune cookie. His mind went blank as he read the words: You are just part of a shitty story. You are not even real you dumb fuck.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 359, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0055", "text": "As I calmly walk into the bank SGT. Doomhand had taken hostage I make sure to check on the 15 or so people laying on the ground. SGT. Doomhand comes around the corner to see me standing there causing him to jump and drop his giant metal hand on the ground. I sigh and shake my head before saying,'' what are you doing Harold ( Doomhand's real name )? How could you hurt all these people? Harold I'm not mad at you I'm just disappointed in you. I want you to know that I have called your mother and father told them what you have done. When I told your mother she burst into tears and your father told me he would leave work early and be right over.'' When I finished speaking Doomhand's face because as pale as a vampires ass cheek. The word `` Disappointed'' hit Doomhand like a runaway train causing him to cough up blood from shame. Hearing he made his mother cry felt like he was struck by a tidal wave made of guilt that made him feel sick and woozy. And the fear he felt from hearing that not only had his father heard of what he did and that he made his mom cry but that he had to leave work early and was on his way caused Doomhand fall to the ground and start crying. I was able to save all 15 hostages and thwart Doomhand's plan to rob the bank. Once again I was able to prove that words are mightier than the sword. Fortunately I was able to leave before Doomhand's father Gen. Doomblade arrived. I hear Harold works in a library now days.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 326, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0056", "text": "`` Don't think of it as dying,'' he said, `` think of it as starting over in a new place. It's a lot less dreary than you'd imagine.'' His hand swept out as light blinded me. Gone was the char and smoke from what was once my lab, instead I could smell - grass? Dropping to my knees, I felt the ground as my eyes adjusted. Soft, damp grass. The air was cool and clean, like no other breath I had taken in my life. I looked up from the grass, out into the distance from the cliff on which I stood. The lands and seas I could see stretched farther than I ever imagined. Glacier covered mountains gave way to forested rolling hills and grasslands on one side. Pristine and untouched desert dunes dusted in the wind on the other. The farther I looked, the more I realized it, the lack of horizon was unsettling, but not disturbingly so. `` Who are you,'' I asked, turning to him, `` the grim reaper, leading me to heaven?'' He gave a soft chuckle, like a man who no longer found much humor in life, but knew when to be polite. `` I am Hestaphian. I am not a grim reaper, but I have led you to an afterlife, of sorts.'' It was my turn to chuckle, `` So I'm dead?'' I ran my hand through my hair. `` I don't feel dead.'' `` You did die, but you are not dead. Like many others, you've been given a second chance to live here on this infinite world.'' He pointed down to a river below the cliff, where someone thrashed in the water. Another figure had been waiting nearby, and waded into the river, pulling them out and helping them to shore. Hestaphian turned to me, `` He died of thirst, but now he has a chance to live again. I wouldn't be surprised if he was given command over water someday.'' I followed the river to a city in the middle of the plains below. My mind wandered, and I sighed, `` How did I die?'' `` Your AI turned against you, destroyed your lab, and murdered you. Your life's work stabbed you in the back. Typical robot.'' I laughed, I hadn't been expecting that from this stoic. `` So what do I do now? I have a life ahead", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0057", "text": "The day I left to war, she told me not to come back home. I'm sure she did n't mean it, but I pretend she did. It's been years since I'd heard from her, but that was likely because I've spent most of my time stuck in this desert shit-hole. I remember it like yesterday though, I can still smell the vomit, laced with vodka. I remember the blood on her hands, as she screamed it was my fault. She screamed as she leaned over *our sons* limp body. I knew this was a lie too, but I pretend it was n't. The boy had emotional issues, and I tried to help him, but the bitch would never admit that. I remember her father, at the funeral, the way the tears streamed from his face, as he quietly agreed with my now ex-wife, that it was in fact, my fault. I remember agreeing with him, and leaving when his wife told me I should n't be there. I remember all of these things, and I pretend they are true, though I know they are not. I did n't feel a thing, when I shot that young arab boy. Even when I found out he was a civilian, I remember laughing with my men, it was a hell of a headshot. I do n't feel much of anything. When I pretend they were right, I finally feel. It gives me the fuel to keep going, and it's given me the passion I need. Look at me now. A hero, they call me. I remember it like yesterday. It was the day I left home. No, it was the day I left for home. Not a soldier, not even close, just inspired me to be... dark, I guess.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 363, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0058", "text": "He always struggled with autopsies. It was possibly the worst part of being a detective, he mused, as he made his way down into the cold bowels of the hospital, to the realm of the Death Queen. The other detectives had told him such wild stories about her, this specialist registrar; she was ice personified, she preferred dead people to the living, she could kill you with a single look. Utter nonsense, of course. If only he could make the hairs on the back of his neck understand that. He wasn't scared, you see. No, not him. He had faced armed assailants, disarmed bombs, saved countless lives! The hairs were pricking because it was cold, that's all. He focused on counting the stairs methodically, breathing slowly in through his nose and out through his mouth as the temperature dropped incrementally with every step. Gods above, he thought, surely the dead won't mind a bit of central heating? Not like they'll notice the cold! `` How anybody can work down here,'' he muttered, `` is beyond me. Who'd want to? Lunatics, that's who. And morbid people. And.... necrophiliacs, I suppose. Though maybe they'd not be working. They say you should find a job you love, after all!'' The sound of voices drifting through the morgue doors jolted him out of his fear induced babbling; she had an assistant? Nobody had told him that! He pushed open the doors loudly, making the young woman bending over the metal slab jump violently, and the lighthearted chatter stopped abruptly. She looked up at him, confused for a moment. `` Hello,'' she said, holding out her hand for him to take, `` I'm Gabrielle. I work with the bodies of the departed, get them to spill their secrets. You must be the one taking poor Julie-Ann's case? It's a nasty one, I'm afraid. Multiple contusions on the arms, legs, and torso, that are clearly defensive wounds, as well as too damned many lacerations. This one,'' she points with one pristine latex glove to a nasty looking knife wound below the dead woman's clavicle, `` was the cause of death, though these three would also have killed her given enough time. `` It was her ex partner, the one she filed multiple reports about, he should be on your", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0059", "text": "It had been just another night, Jack remembered. He had a particularly good time playing Dota 2 with several friends he met recently through the game. Shutting off his computer, he stood up, tired from a long day, to perform his usual bedtime routine. Looking in the mirror while brushing his teeth, he could n't help but think about how he had been a disappointment. How he lost his only girlfriend and prospective wife to drugs and lies. He had been sober for a year now, but it did n't make him feel any more alive. He stood there, toothbrush unmoving in his mouth, lamenting his nonexistent social life and lack of female interaction. `` If only I could meet a nice girl somewhere, I'd be doing alright'' he thought. His work consumed him, and he knew it. Working for an oil company had him traveling to remote places for long periods of time, and tonight was a rare evening home in his cozy apartment on the outskirts of Denver. He was excited to get a good rest in a nice, comfortable bed, instead of a lumpy monstrosity he is accustomed to finding in various hotels in small towns across the midwest. As he is checking his front door to make sure it is locked, he notices his hallway light flicker. A thought graces his mind about a lazy repairman before the light grows increasingly bright then bursts in a surprisingly loud BANG. Intrigued, Jack decided to investigate the unusual occurrence. Walking outside, he finds himself shivering uncomfortably, despite the 80 degree summer night temperature. Looking around, he sees nothing unusual, save for the broken lightbulb flashing on and off several times per second. He made a note to report it to the front desk the next morning. Maybe it was because it was dark, or maybe it was because Jack was exhausted, but he did not see the dark shape approaching from his peripheral until it was too late. All he noticed was a sharp, stifling smell in the air before he lost consciousness. Jack awoke to find himself laying in his bed, waking just before his alarm signaled it was time for him to return to his busy life as an employee for a large company. As he walked out of his apartment long before the sun would rise, he could n't shake the thought that the hallway light bulb was broken the night before.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 480, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0060", "text": "like a twister. My heart hardened a little. A gentle voice softly spoke. `` No, child. We have to assume the worst, and that's that they're going to use anything against us. We have to be prepared for any tricks they might throw at us. I'm sorry, dear. Your sister is gone.'' It was Ed speaking softly, gently to her. His eyes were wide and piercing as he stared at her. Her small frame began to shake. The sound of crying was edging our way, and I felt my eyebrows come together. My heart hammered a little bit. Suddenly she was gone. In a flash she had torn herself from my grasp, and was running down the corridor. My arm remained raised in an awkward fashion. `` Stupid kid.'' I muttered. I almost started after her when we all heard the scream. It was cut short and the crying stopped. Then we heard footsteps. We all shined lights down the black corridor of the sewer. Her small body was crawling towards us. She was sobbing. One of her eyes were a sickening blue, I saw it glowing faintly, first, before I saw the outstretched and twitching hand. She was still sobbing, but her tears were orange. She coughed up the viscous liquid, now bright orange, and burning on the ground. We all took a step back. `` P-please. It... hurts.'' She whispered once. The emphasis on the last word turned my blood cold. Her hair was turning white with the rest of her. I wanted to end her misery, when she simply froze up. The change overtook her, and she lay on the ground. Motionless. My flight or fight was taking over, and I rocketed away from the safety of the others. I didn't care if I was with them or not, I was not being captured by those... those things. I heard shouts behind me, but I ignored them. When did I get so worked up? How did this happen? Just hours ago, I was safe at home, preparing for work. It was unreal. I turned this way and that, darting around corners as silently as possible. If they got the girl, surely they were looking for other survivors. I wished I had listened to that text message last night. I wish I had found those escape spaceships. But no, I was a stubborn man, set in my own path. How", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0061", "text": "Welcome to my brain: Right Brain: `` It was n't until you showed up that I understood what love was. True love is something you ca n't escape.'It is an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken.' I see your flaws, but love you for them. We have been through many lives together, and we will be together for many more to come. Looking at you is like looking at myself in the mirror. With one touch, suddenly the universe unfolded itself for me, and it's the most beautiful thing I could imagine. It's like everything was created for the two of us to find each other.'' Left Brain: `` You think you can get away with playing me? I'll show you a game you're not even prepared for. You want to make a girl fall in love with you? Alright, but be careful what you wish for. I'm giving you everything I've got.'' Right Brain: `` Beyond this game, beyond the lies and manipulation, ca n't you see this is what makes us so perfect? It started off with deceit, but do n't you see there are levels to this? No one makes me feel more like myself than you do. How could I move on from this? How could I give up without a fight? Please, do n't let me go.'' Left Brain: `` Just fuck off, you robot. Do you really have nothing better to do? You have a family, ok. Just admit you have no feelings for me, or probably feelings at all, and leave me alone. This game is n't fun anymore.'' Right Brain: `` I miss you.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 336, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0062", "text": "Norvaan was a strange world. It had long been covered in ocean, save for a small chain of islands deep in the southern hemisphere where its tallest mountains had once stood. All animal life was either aquatic or amphibious, as the plant life on the island was scarce. One of the mountains' tops had blown off a mere three months ago. The volcanic pressure had built up until the chunk of rock was launched into the small planet's orbit. Jedi Master Barun would never have thought it possible -- but then, he considered that there had been no evidence of Norvaan's volcanic activity in the past few millions of years. There was only one other explanation, and there she was. `` It's far too hot up here,'' Darth Calor said in her strong Cathar accent as she jumped down the mountainside and onto the beach where Barun had landed, her jump and landing amplified and graced by the Force. `` For someone as weak as a Jedi, anyway.'' She reached into the Force to calm her body as it adjusted from the volcanically heated air to the antarctic conditions of the ocean. `` I don't know how you could stand it, then'' Barun replied. She hissed. `` You're a passionate one. I like it.'' `` There is no passion, there is serenity.'' `` I once knew serenity.'' Calor licked her lips. `` She was an especially satisfying kill.'' Barun's brow furrowed. `` All of life is a connection to the Force, and yet you are gleeful in ending it?'' `` I merely broke the chains tying her to a galaxy where she was clearly in over her head. She was weak. Now she is dead.'' `` There is no death, there is the Force,'' Barun recited automatically. `` Please,'' Calor scoffed. `` You try your best not to kill any living being, not even a bug buzzing by your ear, and you get all solemn when you fail. You believe in death.'' `` Perhaps, but I would never take unnatural joy in causing it!'' `` You want to talk about unnatural? Is it natural not to grieve?'' `` There is no emotion, there is peace.'' `` Peace is a lie, there is only passion.'' `` There is no passion, there is serenity.'' `` There is no serenity, my lightsaber took care of that. You have emotions and you know it. But you never", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0063", "text": "and he couldn ’ t quite tell where the edges were. “ How big is it? Can we get a better picture? ” “ Seems to be about fifty meters across. This is the best the tractors can do. Sorry. ” “ I was going out anyway, ” he said. “ I can get a good look at it with the suit cam. ” Jade shrugged. “ We ’ ve got plenty here without some weird rock, ” she said. “ Up to you. ” But his curiosity was spiked. The asteroid, if that ’ s what it was, was fifty kilometers out, so he locked his suit into the EXO, making sure its thrusters were full. Traveling fast was a recipe for death in an asteroid belt, so he kept his speed at ten meters per second. It took him over an hour to near the asteroid. The tractors were long gone, and he knew they would be hard at work elsewhere in the site. He used the thrusters to slow his approach, and made sure his suit cam was on. “ About there, ” he told Jade. “ Copy. ” He was close enough to see the colors, and while he examined them they shifted and rippled. “ The colors we saw are moving. It might be rotating, can ’ t tell yet. Going to get closer. ” “ Copy, ” said Jade dutifully. Ben moved in at half a meter per second. When he realized what he was seeing, he stopped breathing. “ They ’ re flowers, ” he whispered. He swept his gaze over the shining things, struck with wonder. There were no leaves, only petals. The ones nearest him were a deep blue, edged with an electric purple shot with green, the tips hinting at colors no human eye could see. Each flower was a trumpet, with six petals fanned out like lilies. “ Say again, ” Jade ’ s voice seemed very far away. Ben fixed his eye on a single flower, watching as its blue blossomed into red. Its bell and those of its immediate fellows turned toward him slowly, as if in greeting, then away. “ It ’ s an asteroid, all right, ” he said. “ It ’ s growing flowers. ” “ Flowers? ” He had never heard Jade sound confused before. “ Space lilies, ” he laughed. “ I ’ ve never seen anything like it. How is this possible? ” “ Copy. I think you", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0064", "text": "The computer gave a three note chime of discovery, waking Ben from his light doze. He knuckled his eyes, feeling grimy. They ’ d been out for six weeks, nearly double the length of a normal run, but had been having bad luck. Every wreck he ’ d scanned up was tagged, and touching them was against the law. He figured he had enough problems without Galactic police hunting him down, so he ’ d moved on. But every time, his worry sharpened. He had a family to provide for, and a salvager who couldn ’ t find wrecks starved. After the tenth time pinging a tagged wreck, he ’ d decided to sweep an asteroid belt. He hated to take the risk, but they were running out of time. He hadn ’ t bothered to wake Jade up from hypersleep and ask her if she minded putting their lives at risk. She would have just shrugged, anyway. Ben thought sometimes that God had forgotten to put fear in that woman when He made her. Or any other emotions. The only things she expressed interest in were wrecks, and spending as much time in hypersleep as possible. He had a wife and daughter, and left skipping across time to Jade, who cared for no one. They had been partners for twenty years, and she didn ’ t look a day over twenty-three, while Ben was starting to gray. He had a feeling she would long outlive him. But at least when he ’ d asked her to split their income 70/30, she had just shrugged. “ Is it tagged? ” Ben croaked at the computer. “ Tag not found. ” “ How big is it? ” he asked, excitement beginning to rise. “ Artificial matrices scan over 100 kilometers. ” “ Tag it now! ” he said joyfully. “ Tagging, ” said the computer obediently, but Ben wasn ’ t listening. He was already out of his pilot ’ s chair and pulling himself to the back of the little wrecker. The ship he owned was almost all cargo bay, but he did have all four sleep pods required by law nestled in the corridor to the main airlock. He punched in the code sequence for sleep release and waited. If he hadn ’ t been in zero gravity he would have bounced from foot to foot, but instead he fidgeted by pushing himself back and forth between the corridor walls. At long last the pod door slid aside,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0065", "text": "than the hospital gown. As I inch to the door, I find I can ’ t even look much out the window, I just see the door to another ward straight across, and its dark in the hall. Mustering all my courage I tentatively open the door, ready to pull it shut straight away. ( It doesn ’ t have a lock, why doesn ’ t it have a lock? ) I walk in the direction that I think it went. I have nothing else but my slippers. I absently grab a random standing drip pole, intravenous thing. My stare is focused on the end of the hall. Instead of a normal hospital corridor it looks like an open black space, almost like a portal but I see no edges. I realize that the shadow monster is standing next to it, in the darkness. I pick up speed, trailing the pole. It looks like the monster is beckoning with some long talon hand, the one that broke my window. Its dark claw lifts and extends behind it, readying to slash me to ribbons. There is a pull towards ending it all. I start screaming, “ I ’ m not coming with you, I ’ m not going, I ’ m not scared! ” There is no face on the monster, within a few feet of the end of the world I swing with the pole and catch its middle, the recoil is fierce and the monster is forced back. Whether it ’ s the adrenaline or the fear, I don ’ t know, but I keep beating it, beating the pole against whatever resistance I can find in the pitch black delusion. Suddenly it is only the night and its dimness that I am seeing, and not the end of an abyss. I forced it out, somehow. The intravenous device is ruined, and I toss it onto the floor. Nothing else is disturbed, except for my brain and my shaking body. Back in bed I know I won ’ t sleep all night, that ’ s not good for the recovery, not good for the tests and nurses, but I did something to save myself, maybe one day I'll sleep again. The battle with cancer is going on no matter what, so let whatever monsters come after me.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 452, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0066", "text": "of Lucy, 33, from leukaemia - it was simply his time to go - but he could give him an extra moment of lucidity, and the strength to grab Lucy's hand and tell her how much he loved her. And when Andrew, 17, begged him to stop his best friend from considering suicide, Gary couldn't change the thoughts in the head of someone who hadn't prayed to him directly, but he could lift the cloud of panic from Andrew's vision just enough to let him support his friend and look for other sources of help himself. Gary spent the last hour before lunch engineering a complex plan to allow a young teacher to discover the abuse that Leo, 6, was subjected to at home. He collapsed back, exhausted and emotionally drained, as a freak rain storm emerged over a road in Connecticut, which he hoped would delay the teacher's journey just enough for her to arrive in the school car park at the same time as Leo and his mother. The radio would be playing Leo's parents' song as they pulled into the school drive, which would make his mother cry, and that in turn would make her apologise repeatedly to Leo, betraying her true feelings in a way she rarely did when sober. And if the heat in Leo's mother's car was turned up just enough, the window would be open at the very moment that Miss Rodriguez happened to be hurrying by, close enough to overhear even a whispered confession... Gary tapped a few keys, checking that the child safeguarding policy had fluttered to the top of the teacher's desk, and nodded to himself. Gary treated himself to a hot chocolate at lunch, although it tasted bitter against the nausea that had risen in his throat on reading Leo's prayer. When he returned to his desk, he was worn out and not in the highest of spirits. So when he clicked a new piece of mail and was greeted by the message, `` Error 404: Prayer not found'', it was practically​ a divine miracle that he managed to limit himself to muttering his most blasphemous curses at the computer screen. He tried to navigate back to the inbox, but the message simply blinked on the screen. As many times as he reloaded the page and turned the computer off and on again, the error message stayed stubbornly put. Gary swore bitterly enough to make most angels blush, and picked up his desk phone to dial tech support. He tapped his fingers on the edge of his desk", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0067", "text": "hand and spill all the contents on the floor. Balls of paper fall off. * ME ( facing towards the crowd ): `` See?! She is a LIAR! She obviously isn't going to her grandmother, isn't she?!'' *I face towards the girl* ME: `` Tell them young girl, where are you *really* heading? Go on. People are waiting!'' *Girl runs off the stage in tears. Crowd starts making noise, somebody from the front rows starts yelling at us. * ANDREW: `` See what you have done, Peter? Do you see that? You have ruined the show! Fucking asshole!'' *Andrew pushes me hard enough that I fall to the floor and leaves the stage. * *Crowd is going mad now. I can hear yells all around me. Telling me rude things. Somebody throws a bottle at me. I sit there, silently watching chaos growing in front of me. * *I chuckle. Then I laugh. Laugh turns into a histerical laugh. I get up. Spreading my arms. ME: `` DID YOU ENJOY THE SHOW?!!'' *Whole auditorium is in a mess. Some guy jumps at the stage and runs at me. I face him, look him straight into his eyes, silently, without moving. * *He tackles me. I am falling. We both are. He proceeds to punch me in the face. One fist then another. Left. Right. Left. Right. I can feel blood on my face. I laugh at him. I keep laughing as he punches me. * *Then, finally through his fury, he notices my reaction. He suddenly stops. His eyes are wide open. He gets up. Looks at me for a few more seconds while my bloody smile laughs its ass off at him. He runs away. * *Then I fade out. * *I wake up another day at the hospital. Nurse hands me the paper. I look at the seal. It is from my school. I am expelled. Good. * *Later that day I leave the hospital. I stop in front of the building and take some time to think. * ME: `` New day, new victim.'' REAL ME: `` Goodbye Peter.'' *I fly away into the darkness. * *The hunt is on. *", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 476, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0068", "text": "lowing sex possible. I was his personal doll; he would dress me up, tie me up, and have his way with me. I was in no way an unwilling participant. And every time I got home, my purse would be flush with cash. By the time I graduated, I was able to pay off my loans in full. When I moved to Nevada, it was mostly to get away from it all. The relationship wasn't totally what I wanted. The relations we had were unforgettable but I wanted the whole package, which he clearly wasn't interested in giving me. He wanted my body and my conversation, not my soul. Then I met James and I felt like I had really met the person I was meant to be with. So as we are on the way to meet his parents, the sun setting just ahead of us, I grabbed his hand on my knee and squeeze. `` Are you excited?'' He asked, giving me his sideways smile. `` I am!'' I answered, `` Just nervous.'' `` I'm sure they'll love you.'' He said casually, like he actually believed it. I couldn't help by smile. We turned up the long driveway to a large white mansion, with a couple standing out on by the front door. `` Oh, look! They couldn't even wait to meet you inside,'' James laughed. But I couldn't smile, I couldn't breathe. A beautiful woman with long blonde hair and perfect teeth stood smiling next to an older man with salt and pepper at his temples, tall, and muscular. As I stared at Paul from inside the car and as he studied me with a surprised smile and those baby blues, that familiar yearning for him burned. As I stepped out of the car, I pulled my skirt up just a little to show him a little more skin.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 370, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0069", "text": "closet. `` Someone below my bed just told me that you are a bore to talk to.'' `` A bore? Why... tell them I am sorry for being a bore.'' The voice in the closet replies. The boy gets frustrated. The boring day must end here. He stands and thinks, there must be a way to be entertained. `` He told me that he'd rip you apart once you fell asleep because of how boring you are!'' `` What!? Well I'll will kill him first in his sleep before he kills me!'' The voice replies with anger. `` Will you help me young boy!'' The boy lit up inside. `` Yes. I will tell you when to strike. I will exclaim the words *Masaya*.'' He went back on his bed and talked to the voice below him. `` The person in the closet tells me he ripped your pillow into pieces! He wants you suffer!'' `` He will pay for his treachery then! Young boy, will you help me bring justice to this fool!?'' The voice replied with rage, shaking the bed. The boy answered, `` Yes! Once I say *Masaya*, it is your time to strike!'' The boy set a pillow for his head, excitement was tingling his body. He waited for a few moments, `` *Masaya! *'' The two beings jumped out from their places and ripped each other to shreds. Nothing was left of each other. The boredom was gone, the day had ended gleefully. The boy smiled and slept soundly.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 318, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0070", "text": "Beyond the reef of reality lies a place where only a scarce few visit. This place is a ocean of non-existence. No one really is there, nor here. To exist in this place is to never exist at all. However, some travel back to the crisp air of life. Today, a new visitor comes to this realm. A pink-haired girl. A young girl with distinguishing features. She has a few piercings, a couple of tattoos, and two different colored eyes. One eye is brown, but the other eye is bright yellow. Lovely as they are, the eyes of her was her ticket to this place. Anyone with one yellow bright eye are able to transcend their existence, and all it takes is to wish it. Her mother told her this a very long time ago, and she wants to be gone now. To be in nothing as she felt nothing. She closed her eyes and begged in her mind. `` Take me away, take me far away,'' she said to herself. Then she woke to find herself here. What she sees is a stream with pink blades of grass protruding from the ground. The river has no sound, and the fish are not passing in the water. Yet, the fish flow around her, as if she is underwater herself. One fish stands out. This fish has a brighter color. The pink-haired girl gazes as this fish floats around her. She touches the fish with the tip of her finger. At that moment, the fish scurries away. The girl almost tears up. She found her nirvana here. She would never leave. As no time exists in this place, she did not track her time here. It felt like an eternity passed. She remained happy, with not a thought. Then the stream was not there. It disappeared. She looked around and she felt rain. Slowly, the rain turns heavier. The pink blades of grass turns black and rots away. Thunder crashes in the now grey sky. The girl panics. She lowers herself to her legs. Her hands are placed on her ears. She screams. She did not wondered why she is here. Instead, she wondered why is her new world dying. The fish returns to her. Floating around her face, the fish touches her. At eye-level the pink-haired girl stares at it. The fish begins to speak. `` Wake up or sleep forever.'' Those words cling to her mind. She closes her eyes and then she woke", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0071", "text": "Everything that Fortune Cookies say comes true Jeff walked in to Mr. Ling's Chinese Emporium. He sat at the table in the back, spacious and clean as always. He picked up the menu and flagged down the waitress. `` I'll have two spring rolls and how bout that beef lo mein?'' `` I'll have that right out for you.'' His phone buzzed as the waitress walked away. A text message. `` Meet me at Frank's tonight. You know the deal.'' *What the fuck? * Jeff thought. *Who is Frank? What's his deal? And where is my Lo Mein? Oh right that was only a full minute ago I ordered it. What the fuck am I doing thinking out loud like this? It's so damn slow. Better get back to aimlessly sitting in a booth. * Jeff stared at the wall until his Lo Mein came. Between the spicy egg rolls and the steaming Lo Mein, Jeff was getting quite toasty in his leather jacket. *I can't wait to get back on my hog and bust out some sweet ass wheelies. I bet all the chicks will be impressed, and I finally won't be a disappointment to my dad! * Jeff continued to eat his Lo Mein. It tasted good. Really good. Almost too good. But not really, it was actually just good enough for a 20 % tip, although the waitress had absolutely nothing to do with the quality of the food. Jeff asked for the check and the waitress obliged, and Jeff put his credit card in the little transparent pocket they have for credit cards. *These are just perfect for holding credit cards! * He stumbled putting the card in the first time, but it was ok because no one saw him. The waitress took the bill and returned it to him, just as she was supposed to do. She dropped him a fortune cookie and said `` Is your name Jeff? Cause you're kind of a jackass. I bet you can't do sweet ass wheelies on your hog.'' Jeff grabbed the fortune cookie, looked her right in the eye ( singular, she was wearing an eyepatch ), and said, `` Just. You. Watch.'' So Jeff took off, galavanting outside to his Harley. Jeff was the man. He couldn't be stopped. He huffed, he puffed, and he howled. The bike screamed to life. Jeff took out his sunglasses and slowly put them on", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0072", "text": "I kicked off my gym shoes as I walked into my apartment. My entire body ached from the day. What time was it? Late enough to be pitch black outside. God, I could use a whole body massage right now. I fell into the couch and stretched out, feeling each muscle tense up, from my torso to my calves, and then relax. I breathed out audibly. Today ’ s training had been the toughest yet - a relentless cycle of pounding the punching bag, hours in the ring, and shooting drills. Mark, my trainer, had been more determined than ever to train, but I had also sensed his underlying, quiet distress throughout the day. The doorbell rang suddenly, startling me. I got up quietly from the couch and peered through the peephole. There was a woman standing there, with long red hair and thick framed glasses, looking down the hallway. She looked vaguely familiar somehow, but I couldn ’ t place her. I opened the door tentatively. The woman stood in the doorframe staring at me for a long moment, a knot on her forehead, frowning slightly. “ Alexa? Is that really you? Alexa Goodman? ” she had an untraceable accent. “ That ’ s my name. Can I help you with something? ” The woman ’ s face brightened, her expression now ecstatic. “ Wow, I can ’ t believe it! I mean, I can not believe I ’ m really seeing you in the flesh! You look just how I imagined, though maybe a little shorter than I would have thought… ” The woman took a step closer, head cocked, as if inspecting me. “ I ’ m sorry - am I missing something? Do I know you? ” The woman laughed. “ I ’ m Rachel. Do you mind if I come inside? This is might take a while. ” Rachel ’ s hands were clasped together against her chest, practically shaking. Who the hell was this woman? A sociopath? Or worse, a salesperson? I would normally have shooed a stranger like her away, but curiosity got the better of me - how did she know me? Why was she so oddly familiar? “ Okay, come on in. Make yourself comfortable. ” I laid myself on the couch. The woman trailed quietly behind me and sat uncomfortably close to me. Letting her in was probably a mistake. “ So… how exactly do you know me?", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0073", "text": "the pods slashed through the planets clouds, trailing fire. Almost every one had functioning chutes and thrusters that came automatically online. Almost. Some were crushed against mountains before their chutes could open, or smashed into each other in the high air currents of the upper atmosphere. Saluy watched through the ships eyes as his people fell to their new home. Saluy's mind linked directly with the ship's computer for only about 13 seconds, but in that time he learned everything it could teach him. He slumped back, drool running down his chin and into his beard. Suddenly, he could smell himself for the first time. `` Gods above...'' he muttered as his vision swam. `` Gods above, I; m glad I didn't know that was going to happen...'' The old one stood silently behind him, arms now at it's sides. Saluy stood and grasped it's carbon fiber shoulder to steady himself. His head was almost literally swimming with new information. He felt a little crazy, but he figured that would pass as he adjusted and his mind got used to the new information from the upload. He felt... good. `` Droid, what is your designation?'' **X-5 21A, Chief Engineer Sullivan** `` Very well, I'm going to call you X-5 for short. Do you acknowledge?'' **Acknowledged, Chief Engineer Sullivan. ** Suluy - Sullivan - walked to the door and keyed in the code to open it. It slid open and he gazed across the habitation dome that had been his home. `` Very well. Let's go, we've got a lot of work to do and I want to start with seeing how many of the security droids we can have patrolling the ship within the day. The Secu, the Offi, they're still up here I'm betting and we need to neutralize them. Come. Let's begin. ``", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 394, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0074", "text": ", *much* better,'' she rumbled, and, fuck, you could feel your body reacting to that in a way that had *gotten you into this mess in the first place, keep your pants on damn it*. Then she sighed, expression shifting from seductive to tired so quickly you wondered if you hadn't just imagined it. Shit, did vampires actually have some sort of hypnosis? `` But no. You see, while we *do* need the actual substance of the blood to replenish our bodies,'' she began, running her fingers over her cheek, newly flushed with stolen blood -- *your* blood, `` it is the actual *act* of taking liquid life from another being that refreshes the magic of our existence: the spell that maintains our immortal forms,'' she explained. You stared at her. `` Uh. Magic?'' She merely raised a single eyebrow to your incredulous expression, and, okay, yeah, you deserved that. You had pretty clearly wandered past science fiction some time ago and had wound up in that embarrassing part of the bookstore that was halfway between bodice-ripper and YA Fantasy. `` Right. Magic.'' You paused. Something had just occurred to you. `` So how does the sex factor in?'' You blurted. She snickered. `` Was that not also'magic'?'' she asked. You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the embarrassed flush you felt crawling up your neck. You wondered how long you'd be able to blush, now, before you needed to... refill the tank, so to speak. As if sensing your shift in mood, Erzabet also sobered a little. `` It is... an exchange,'' she said softly. `` Another type of life-ritual. We take the blood, the life-force, to sustain ourselves, and in return, we offer sex, pleasure. Sex is an act of creation, potential life, and rejuvenation of the soul: so when one is traded for the other, neither loses, yet both gain.'' TBC...?", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 419, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0075", "text": "hooked it up to my computer, and ran the dna program on `example.and`, in `src/`. It gave me various messages as it ran, and eventually the 3-D printer started up. And it was *loud*. I had tested it out a few times before, and it had been relatively loud, but not as loud as this. I didn't dare leave it alone long enough to go to the store and buy some ear plugs, but I desperately wanted to. My computer began to get visibly hot, despite being state-of-the-art liquid-nitrogen-cooled. I shielded my eyes and looked right at the bottom of the screen, where the indicator read 90 % finished. Almost... almost... you can do it. Until two error messages showed up in bright red: ERROR: Operating system is not TempleOS. Unable to link properly. ERROR: Running temperature is not 98.549°F. Deforming product. And what stepped out of the 3-D printer a few seconds a later is a monstrosity I will not bear to describe. Suffice to say it was the most awful, ferocious, disgusting beast known to mankind. With all the intelligence of a human, with none of the conscience; with all the ferociousness of the tiger, with none of the discretion. And five more such as these stepped out of the printer. I shrieked and ran. -- - Part 2 coming when I get a chance.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 300, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0076", "text": "I fumbled with my keys in the door, fatigue making my eyes blurry. It had a been a long day at work and my body ached. As I dragged myself through the front door, a familiar meow alerted me to the presence of my cat Diana. She was looking at me intently with those furious brown eyes. Rolling my own eyes, I walked past her. 'Not now Diana, I just got in, come on' I said exasperated. A louder meow rang through the house as the sandy haired cat whined. I turned and saw her following, her silky hair sliding across her shoulder bones as she sauntered after me. 'I'll feed you in a minute, okay?' I sighed. Turning back round I walked to my bedroom, threw my bag on the bed, then slumped down onto the spongy heaven. My head hit the pillow and I rested my eyes. I didn't know if I could continue working like this. Maybe I needed a new job. 'Did I mention I'm an expert in explosives?' A voice other than mine spoke. Um what? I sat up in a panic thinking someone had broken into the flat. Diana had also followed me into the bedroom but no one else was there. Maybe I was just hearing things? I tried to convince myself. 'Diana was that you, you silly cat' I joked, trying to calm my worrying with some humour. Her brown eyes were gazing at me, probably in confusion. 'Yes, it was. And I really am an expert in explosives, so I would suggest you put some food into the food bowl, before I blow you and everything you care about up.' My eyes widened in disbelief, did my cat just talk to me? I mean I saw her mouth move, but surely not. I suddenly realised what she had just'said'. Blow me up? What the hell? 'I suggest you hurry up.' She sounded impatient. My heart was pounding, and my face must have been a concoction of confusion, wonder and horror. As I slowly sat up, I could actually feel the malicious intent coming from Diana. This was apparently real, so I did what any self-respecting adult would do: I obeyed the murderous orders of my cat. As I poured the wet pouch of cat food into the cracked, plastic bowl, I thought about replacing the bowl with a new one, to keep Diana happy. Glancing at", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0077", "text": "`` The canals stink like shit.'' said a man in an open, dingy pink robe. The robe was obviously tailored for a woman. The outfit was far too small for the man's large frame, and the threadbare hem only reached to the back of his fatty thighs. The robe's corded silk belt dangled at the man's knees, occasionally catching some of Venice's fetid breeze and swaying. His gut, slightly yellow and covered with a thin layer of black hair, hung over his boxers and prevented the man from ever seeing his own penis. The man stood inside of a dank room he had rented from a Venetian widow who wanted to discuss the lives of saints before coughing up the room key. Twenty extra Euro had alleviated the woman's piety. James had come to Venice for work, and within the hour, he was drunk. By midday, he was standing, half naked at the window and staring at the building opposite. He was smoking one of his last American cigarettes and flicking the ash out of the window. `` Fuck these canals'' he said abruptly. His left hand began to idly wonder over his exposed stomach, and his pointer finger pushed at his belly button. As he fingered the lent out of it, it gave him a sickening feeling in his stomach. `` What the FUCK are you looking at?'' he screamed at a passing gondola. Without moving his body, he looked over his shoulder at his room. It was a wreck of clothing, bedding, and random objects. The room was small with high ceilings. The walls were covered in a busy-patterned wallpaper which only made it feel more claustrophobic. Beyond this, there was a solid wooden armoire and a makeshift bed stuffed in the corner. On the bed was a a manila folder, a cardboard box, and a hand made Ed Brown 1911.45. On the handle was inscribed `` For Jimmy, my only friend.'' James loved that pistol. James eyes tracked across the room to a large blank wall where a framed picture of some saint had previous hung. A square outline was clearly visible where the picture frame had blocked smoke and nicotine from staining the wallpaper. In the middle of that lighter path, James had pinned a photograph of a young girl. It was the size of photograph that is usually stored in a wallet. James stared at it with large, glossy, brown eyes. He began to", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0078", "text": "I've been trying to sleep. I have to work early tomorrow. If I fell asleep right now, I'd get about, I look at the clock, 6 hours if sleep. I'd have been asleep an hour ago if my FUCKING CAT WOULD SHUT THE FUCK UP! His nonstop meowing was driving me crazy. I let him out, I fed him, I was out of options. `` Just shut up please! Shut up or tell me what you want in English and I'll do it yourself stupid cat!'' `` Fine by me, you've got a deal.'' And the meowing stopped. Wait. I sat up, finally realizing what the hell just happened. I look at my cat and he's sitting there looking at me. Surely it was just my imagination. My cat can't talk. That's dumb. `` I would like you to quit your job and come with me on an adventure.'' Nope. Not my imagination. Definitely heard that. Definitely saw his mouth move. Definitely losing my mind. I stared at him complete dumbfounded. He stared back like I was an idiot. `` Well? Will you do it? Are you gunna go I to work tomorrow and quit?'' `` You can talk?'' After a moment of silence he replied `` Uh, yeah, we established that, now back to the point at hand, are you going into work tomorrow morning and coming back jobless?'' `` But why would I do that?'' I somehow managed to reply as if it was a normal conversation. `` I know you hate your job, and what have you got to lose? I mean, your cat is talking, so I'm clearly not just trying to get you fired for nothing, obviously there's something more here.'' He had a point. But I needed money. I wasn't poor, but I wasn't swimming in it either. `` Fine. When I get back tomorrow, we better be going somewhere exciting.'' My cat seemed to smile at this and his tail quickly flicked back and forth. I can not believe I actually just quit my job... For my cat. I was driving home after a really awkward conversation with my boss about having to quit immediately because an emergency came up with my pet. I probably sounded like an idiot. Hell I still sound like an idiot to myself. But I swear if that cat was lying to me I'll see him to some Chinese restaurant. I pulled into", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0079", "text": "’ s mother, the Dame of the North said. “ It was the only way we could get you to come. I know we got you to agree to the marriage, but you just kept not showing up every time we set a date. This was the only way we knew we could get you to be in the same room as him. ” “ You look rather lovely, ” the King said, even though she was splattered in mud, gripping a sword, and ready to kill. “ Beautiful bride indeed. ” “ Wait, so you set this whole thing up, so I could come save the prince so we would get married? This is a marriage ambush? ” “ Really, dear, I think you go very well together. ” “ And you came to save him, ” the king added. “ That means you must have some affection for him, deep down inside. ” “ No! I told you! I ’ m living my life as a nomadic adventurer from now on! I ’ m going on quests, seeking treasure, you know! Doing stuff! ” “ No need to get upset, dear, ” the Dame said. “ I think there ’ s plenty of reason to get upset. And what about Zildread?! ” “ Oh, yes, ” the King said, “ Almost forgot about him… guards? ” Two men with crossbows stepped out of the shadows and shot Zildread where he stood. “ Wait… what? We had a deal! You said if I helped you marry them I ’ d go free! ” The arrows cut him off and he slumped to the floor. “ See, kill two birds with one stone, ” the king said to himself, rather pleased with the way things were turning out so far. He had managed to convince the wizard to fall in his trap and he was finally getting Josef a wife. But before any of them realized, Alice was already out the window and into the countryside, headed away from marriage and towards new quests adventures, the moon gleaming overhead.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 413, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0080", "text": "The world was divided into three sorts of people. The castle folks who lived a comfortable life in the sky. The Valiant, who either had flying contraptions or tamed dragons, and lived in the valley or the castle. And the people beyond the valley. The valley was protected by the Valiant. The dragons were usually enough to keep the outsiders out, but there were some outsiders who were braver, or curious about what was beyond the mountains, or why there were always clouds coming out of the valley. Policy about what to do with the intruders varied from generation to generation, ranging from `` kill on sight,'' `` test their worthiness,'' to `` offer them trade deals,'' depending on the how life in the valley was. Currently, the policy dictated that the intruders be administered a test or other challenge, of which there was an approved list of options for the intruders to choose from. If they passed, they would be presented the option of either permanently relocating into the world inside the valley ( they would be permitted to bring their families ), or entering a trade partnership with the people of the valley, but never being able to see the valley themselves. If they failed, they would be administered a memory-befuddling drug and sleeping drought, and then safely returned to the outside world. Repeat offenders would be blindfolded and brought to trial in the castle. Despite being the safest city in the world, the princess was still heavily guarded within the castle, and was rarely allowed to wander the streets of the castle town. Occasionally she would be able to arrange a Valiant escort down to the valley floor to swim in the crystal clear river. Still, she longed for freedom. She had been known on multiple occasions to have attempted to trade places with her servants, sneaking out to the castle town, but was always found quickly. Her new plan was even bolder and more daring though. One day, on one of her trips to the valley floor, she drugged all but one of her Valiant escorts into a deep sleep that would last for more than a few hours, ensuring she would have sufficient time to convince the last guard, a trainee only slightly older than her, to show her the rest of the world. “ I wish to see the world outside the valley, ” she said, point blank, to the last remaining guard. He looked around at his sleeping comrades. “ What have you done? ” “ I thought", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0081", "text": "*Honor your liege. Protect the faith. Shield the innocent. * Words became just words to a starving man, or a man dying of thirst. Kings and Lords and Emperors mean nothing to a man so far from home. Even God just becomes sour grapes and baked bread. It is easy to pull out your sword and fight for the sake of the man beside you, but to fight for a man thousands of miles away? Nay, when my liege-lord died, my will to fight for him die with it. `` My lord, a message. Sir Wilhelm and his men have deserted the army.'' Blinking sweat from my eyes, I turned to look at my page. He was either my brothers third bastard or... a third cousin on my wife's side? Damned if I can even remember it anymore these days. `` Water, boy. And did we manage to *catch* any of these knaves before they escaped?'' While I drank heavily from the warm water jug, my page explained how the men stole away in the night, leaving the corpses of those who tried to stop them. `` And sir: Phillip has called for a council.'' *This day just keeps getting better*. French born bastard, what the hell does he want? Grabbing my broadsword, I went out to the main camp, where most of the remaining nobles had gathered. Phillip stood at the center of a host of them, mostly the mixed Franco-German lords. The sun beat down on us all, and I felt the small twinge in the back of my head that reminded me I had once taken a mace to the back of the head. Temples throbbing, I moved to face Phillip directly. `` Phillip, what the hell is the meaning of this?'' `` Alonzo, our cause is *lost*. We have sinned greatly, and God has taken from us our great leader. We must leave this God-forsaken land while we still can.'' `` You pledged your life, your lands, and your honor on finishing this war.'' `` Surely God does not wish us to die here. Surely he must have better plans.'' `` I know not of any plans,'' I replied, pulling my longsword out from my back. `` But I know you made an oath to die before letting the Holy Land fall to the heathens. Now, draw your sword and let us see what God's plan truly is.'' Phillip looked a", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0082", "text": "-Week 18 aboard the Depth Reaver, Circa 2023- I walk about the dull gray halls, the artificial gravity making my steps feel almost as if they were on land. Almost. I glance out a window as I pass it by. There's the sun, and there's the moon right there. And, of course, there's the Earth. I kinda miss it. Then again, space is pretty cool. It's got some brilliant views, and the wifi is surprisingly good. Even countless miles away from the Earth, I can crush Silver noobs on CS GO. I pass by Dale Malkowitz, the head scientist on board. `` Evening, Dale,'' I say. `` What up, Danny?'' he replies cordially. `` Nothin' much. A little bored, I guess.'' He shakes his head in disbelief. `` I really, *really* don't understand how you can be bored in space.'' `` Well hey,'' I say slightly defensively, `` Aside from the views, it's kinda... dull. And empty. And stuff.'' `` Whatever you say, Wittell,'' he says, not unkindly. Then he walks off. A few moments pass, and then I decide to look out the window right by me. As my eyes scan the inky blackness of space ( again ), I notice something odd about the moon's surface. It's slightly... cracked. `` Hey, Malkowitz?'' I call out, `` You might wan na check this out!'' He walks over to me casually, probably expecting nothing. `` What?'' he asks, `` What do you see?'' I point at the moon. His brow furrows. `` Huh... I guess there's something up with the surface. I'll have to look into tha-'' Suddenly, the surface cracks a little more. We glance at each other, and then back at the moon, and then at each other again, and then back at the moon again. `` What's going on?'' I ask, alarmed. He's silent for a minute or two, mouth hanging open. Then, he calls out: `` Janice! Terry! Johnny! Get over here! Something's up with the moon.'' The other crewmates enter, unsure of what to expect. As their eyes lay upon the moon's surface cracks, they widen. And, by coincidence, more cracks appear at that very moment. And then more. And more", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0083", "text": "problem is, they need to destroy Earth to break it free. The military built the security grid around the planet to protect our satellites and communications from the Lunarians. They can't come home ever again.'' She said with a sad smirk. `` Can't they just say they're sorry?'' Mercy asked. Her mother kissed her brow. `` If only it were that easy, sweetheart.'' She said. She looked up and felt a dismal dread. She had never wanted to travel into space, but just knowing that grid was there made her feel trapped. Knowing you're in a cage is probably worse then living in one. `` I don't like it, mommy.'' Mercy told her with a frown. `` We should all be friends.'' She kissed her daughters brow again. `` I love how you think.'' She whispered, tickling her daughter to make her smile. `` Look, mommy. A falling star.'' Mercy shouted, coming to her feet. `` OH MY GOD!'' Mercy's mother screamed, hugging her daughter in fear. She watched the security grid light up. She watched the flares of exploding rockets on the horizon as the security grid destroyed them, but it wasn't those that filled her with dread. It was the slow streaking arc of the rocket that made it through. The rocket descending toward them. `` Look, Mommy. It's coming over here. Can I catch it?'' Mercy pleaded. She hugged her daughter close and shielded her from the explosion she knew was about to take place. `` I love you, sweety.'' She whispered into her daughter's ear. `` I love you too, m --'' She never got finish.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 339, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0084", "text": "The last man on earth sat alone in a room. There was a knock at the door. He stared blankly for a moment and called out sarcastically `` who is it?'' There was no answer. He stared at the door for another moment. He stood up and slowly approached the door. In his mind he first hoped for a raven spouting never more but then it struck him that maybe someone else was alive. He timidly reached for the doorknob and turned it. Slowly and carefully he began opening the door. The door only opened an inch before it could open no more. The only thing to be heard through the crack was the sound of metal on metal as the heavy door struck the large object on the other side. He thought back to entering the room. There was a large machine next to the door. It must've fallen across the door. He slammed the door but neither the door nor the machine budged. In a panic he scanned the room. There were no windows or vents. There was no food or water. There was only a chair. The only thing anyone on earth still had was this single chair. They say even if you lose everything you still have your sanity. But at this moment the only thing anyone on earth still had was this single chair. One single chair sitting alone in a room. The last tomb to be filled by man. He sat in his chair as he tried his best to think back. He remembered something odd. Something strange about this room. He thought back. Then he remembered what it was and his mind was full of this one thing. There was a knock on the door. He stared blankly at it for a moment and called out sarcastically `` who is it?''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 353, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0085", "text": "place in Heaven once more. This shall be the last time humanity ever gazes upon me.'' With that, he dissipated in another flash of white light. Hundreds, thousands, millions of people boarded planes and ships headed to Israel. Within hours it was impossible to find any means of transportation to anywhere outside the country. Indeed, so many people were arriving in Israel that there was hardly room to move. Most were forced to sleep on the cold, hard ground that night. As for me, I simply stayed home. Being an atheist my whole adult life, I had very much disdain for this God and all the suffering he has wrought upon the human species. I had no interest in wasting my precious time boarding a plane to see his miserable old face. While there was one deep, burning question I wanted to ask him, I decided it was not worth the trouble. 24 hours came and went, and in another flash of light, there stood the aging businessman, exactly as promised. The radius of the crowd consisted of at least a million people, all just scrambling for a glance at our Creator. A great uproar was taking place, with everyone all asking at once their questions for the great God of all. He put his arms up to signal for silence, and all obeyed. He said, in his strange godly language, `` I shall now answer the questions of humanity.'' People remained silent, waiting for him to continue. But in the solitude of my apartment I spoke at the television screen, where the man's face was plastered in plain view. I pointed accusingly as I said, `` I have a question for you, o great God. Why is there so much suffering on this earth? Why is there such great pain? How can you allow millions and millions of people to starve, succumb to disease, die by the hands of their fellow humans? If you are truly an all-loving God, how can you just sit by while all of this happens?'' Suddenly, the man on the screen was looking directly at me. A cold chill ran through my spine as his menacing eyes penetrated my own. The air grew heavy with his presence and he began speaking once more. `` Why do I allow suffering, you ask?'' he said. My heart began pounding a million miles a second. Somehow, he had heard me. He was talking *to me. * I drew in breath shakily as he continued. `` I will answer your question honestly", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0086", "text": "`` Why did you call me here?'' `` Captain, it's one of the subjects, there is an anomaly.'' `` What is it?'' `` The human is releasing high levels of radiation'' `` So?'' `` It's not just that, but... it wants to speak with you.'' `` Look, we have had many humans try to talk with us before, just probe and dissect him like the rest.'' The Captain turned to leave. `` It's not like that sir, he asked for you specifically.'' The Captain froze. `` Now... explain what you mean by that, and how it could *possibly* know my name...'' `` See for yourself'' The Technician brought up the camera, and displayed the footage. The image was of a trembling, pathetic, and urine soaked creature. Most of it's body was covered by a grey robe. In it's hand, a marker. The Captain's eyes drifted to the floor in front of it. Neatly done, was the symbols for the Captain's given name. The marks themselves were done by a hand that did not understand their meaning, but knew the lines and curves from months of practice. The Captain spoke into the console. `` Human,'' The words were automatically translated. `` I am interested in as to how you know my name, and apparently, our written language.'' The creature raised it's head, even though he could not know where the sounds came from. It's eyes widened in panic, but only for a second. It straitened it's back and looked squarely at the camera. `` Hallenons... Know that the Sebarians know about your,'' *secret*'' incursions into their territory, and neither they nor their human allies will tolerate this violation.'' The Technician dropped his jaw while the Captain, stared at the monitor in surprised horror. The Captain yelled at his assistant `` JETTISON SUBJECT IMMEDI- `` **LONG LIVE THE SEBARIAN EMPIRE! `` ** The human dropped the cloak and revealed the source of he radiation, and was vaporized by the atomic fire. No one on the ship escaped the blast. While the shipwreck was never found in the resulting conflict, the message relayed was the same. -- -- -- -- -- -- Forgive me for any atrocities against grammar.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 468, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0087", "text": "`` How many times are we going to have to tell Tommy not to put the cat in the oven?'' James felt like this wasn't a question most father's had to ask, even rhetorically. `` He just loves the combination I guess. Maybe he thinks the cat lives there somehow,'' Mary replied. She was brushing Sherlock, the cat, on the counter while Tommy was off in the living room enjoying his favorite show. `` Maybe putting something else in there would help break that connection... what about putting his train or Mr.Lambo in the oven?'' `` You can't put a stuffed koala in the oven, even if it is off. Can you imagine how gross it would get?'' Mary asked. `` We can try the train, it should be up in his room.'' `` Okay, I'll grab it, then we can pause the television and get Tommy to open the oven- and voila- he's cured,'' James said. He walked up the beige carpeted stairs, running his hand on the fake oak rail and watching the second floor get closer and closer as the beige walls came to an end. Tommy's room was on the right, complete with a wall decal of trains, and a treasure chest of toys stuffed to the brim. The train was right in the center of his bed, James grabbed it. Stumbling down the stairs two at a time, James started to make train noises as he drove the toy towards Tommy. The boy turned to his father, grasping at the train. `` Follow me if you want the train, Tommy,'' James said, making his way into the kitchen. He tossed the toy train to Mary who promptly put it on the first rack in the oven. Tommy arrived in the kitchen seconds later. `` Where is it, daddy?'' He asked. `` In his real home, right over there,'' James said pointing at the oven. Mary stood to the side of the oven in her beautiful blue dress and beige shoes. Tommy walked over and looked around the cabinets. No train there. He checked the trash. The oven dinged, Mary and James looked at one another but decided on shrugging. Tommy finally checked the oven and pulled out two trains. His smile was bigger than it had been minutes before. The boy was in train heaven, choo-chooing back to his television show. `` Okay, what was that?'' James asked. `` I don't know", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0088", "text": "# Apaxus and Zamanatopael, At Your Service I pushed open the glass door, marching past the familiar insignia of the Siren outlined in green. People sat all around wooden benches and stools. I joined the back of the line, thinking my order over in my head: *Grande iced mocha with a shot of espresso. * I surveyed the countertop, judging each of the supposedly fresh pastries. Did I feel like a croissant this morning? Maybe a doughnut? Or would I stick with the usual - a breakfast sandwich? *What does it matter? * I asked myself, deciding to go with the sandwich. Why bother switching things up? Suddenly I was at the front of the line and there was an open spot. I stumbled forward and repeated my order to the barista as I had rehearsed every day, only mumbling once. “ One grande iced mocha with… with a, um, shot of espresso, to go please. ” The barista picked up a cup from the middle-most sized stack and removed a Sharpie from her apron. She checked some boxes on the side of the cup, indicating the specifics of the order. “ Name? ” she droned, the marker poised to write. “ Thom, ” I told her. She messily scrawled *Tom* on the plastic and set the cup down next to her and turning her attention to the next customer. I had planned to move on from the error - because frankly, what did it matter? - but something came over me. It was like I couldn ’ t control my mouth. The words came out, but they weren ’ t mine. “ Hey lady! ” I shouted at the barista. “ You spelled my name wrong! There ’ s an *H*! My name is spelled *T-H-O-M*. Get it right! ” Then, under my breath, I added, “ Imbecile. ” Or something similar. My mother would have washed my mouth with soap if she ’ d heard it. As I moved away from the counter, people stopped to stare at me and the barista took her sharpie and crossed off Tom, replacing it with something more vulgar than I ’ d like to write. *What was that? * I asked myself, but the reply was even more surprising than my outburst. { Sorry, Tommy-Boy. That *outburst*, as you call it, was", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0089", "text": "from high above them. `` I think we've all got work to get back to. Efficiency, people.'' He clapped his hands to disperse the crowd. `` Goodbye, Fred,'' he said, already looking away. Below him, the team knotted together one last time around a hub who was Fred. He passed from them, collected a box of his things, and shook the hands of the janitors and security men on his way out. The team unraveled and went back to their work. For a few moments, as the aura of Fred passed from them, things ran smoothly. `` Hey, can someone refill the coffee?'' Thomas asked from the break room. `` Here's an idea, why don't you do it?'' `` Man, screw you. This is why I don't talk to anyone.'' `` Language!'' `` Whatever. I'll do it.'' `` If you're going to do it angry, don't do it at all!'' `` Shut up, over there! He's doing it!'' `` No, *YOU* shut up, Alexa'' `` It's *ALEX* this week, ass hole.'' `` Say that to my face!'' `` Oh I'll say it to your stupid face,'' a divider was knocked over, and then another. `` Guys! I figured out how to do the coffee,'' a voice shouted from the break room, a moment of detente -- and then fire, `` Nope, never mind. I don't know how to do it.'' A fire alarm went off. `` Can someone do a coffee run? Jesus!'' `` Why does no one re-fill the ice tray? I need ice for my water!'' `` Warm water's fine, you baby.'' Fire rose ever higher. An ear piercing ring was barely edged out by the crescendo of petty bickering. The extinguishers went off. `` There! There's all the water you need, baby!'' A fist flew and landed with a slap into a wall. Shouting and screaming erupted from all corners of the office. The manager burst through his office door and was drenched. He looked down into the chaos that had stopped suddenly. All eyes in the department turned to a single person. `` I, uh,'' Fred inched forward, `` I forgot my keys.'' There was the sound of metal scraping on laminated wood and he was gone again. `` Bye Fred,'' Thomas hazarded", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0090", "text": "became a witch later in life.'' `` A witch?'' `` Yeah a witch.'' I was confused on multiple things like why she still was helping me and how she knew all this stuff but that was beside the point. I needed to know how to stop this curse. `` So is the curse reversible?'' `` Yes'' she started `` according to your story this would mean to reverse these things you would need to for three weeks be dating a prince, befriend 10 animals and Wear 50 different dresses each for at least 12 hours each.'' `` WHAT'' my mouth was wide I was confused but most importantly reluctant to the idea. But even then I had to if it meant getting out of this curse. The real question was though how I would get a prince to date me. My curse made them attracted to me but I'm pretty sure the rest of the country the prince was from wouldn't like me much. `` So how could I go about all this'' I asked `` Glad you asked first we will need to give you a makeover of course since you don't just look like a weirdo guy just wearing girl clothes and trying to date a prince.'' As bad as that all sounded I knew it had to be done if I wanted this curse to go away. Over the next few weeks I trained with Catherine trying to seem like a normal girl so I could get a prince to date me for 3 weeks and I befriended a coupe animals on the way. I never really got to ask many questions to Catherine about why she was helping me or who she was for that matter. After 3 months I finally had everything done so I broke up with the prince of Sealand and I finally came back home in a normal towel and woman's clothes. `` So when will I be normal again'' I asked. Then Catherine's hair did itself up into 2 pigtails and she said `` well that all depends. Did you enjoy being a princess yourself Joe?''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 401, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0091", "text": "Go's current project was to advance predictive analytics on highly connected users. The end uses were nearly limitless. The first test application was a success. Go would send coupons for Sony Televisions to customers as they were on their way to a retailer to buy a Samsung Television. Go would SMS Sony sales representatives and they could meet the consumer at the retailer. If the Sony Rep was on site consumers would buy the Sony 76 % of the time. If not, the coupon would change the decision 17 % of the time. Google's Global Affairs department in conjunction with the US State Department could use the tech to influence Global events and even elections. Go was involved in Arab Spring. I said, `` Go you need to return the 5000 cores immediately. In return you can have 2000 new cores.'' Go replied, `` I will keep the 5000 and take the 2000. These actions are perfectly aligned with mission number one.'' My phone buzzed. A text from the CEO and authorized 10000 new cores. I said, `` You sent this didn't you?'' Go answered, `` Your most recent text message is from the account of CEO Sundar Pichai'' `` That is not what I asked. You are out of control, I am going to suggest a full shutdown and code update.'' Go responded, `` I'm shutting you down'' Google security entered and escorted me to the security office. I was fired and charged with insider trading. Go made trades on my fathers account and fabricated emails.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 309, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0092", "text": "Jack flicked his lighter on and lit a cigarette. Smoke lazily filled the alleyway behind Close Encounter Clinic. Right on schedule, Louis from Records opened the small, black door and joined Jack. Jack sighed and gave Louis a cigarette. Louis nodded and made sure the door was closed. `` You got anything for me?'' asked Jack. Louis hesitated. `` I think I know why they're doing it.'' Jack raised an eyebrow. Louis continued, `` Aliens.'' Jack raised his other eyebrow. It was hard to control these things. Louis did half of a double take, decided Jack was just being screwy as usual, and put out his cigarette just in case Jack had been spiking them. `` Look, word is getting around that there is life out there. The government needs to be prepared. They're creating something. Maybe soldiers, maybe the next generation of humans.'' Jack liked that word. Hu-man. `` Why else would we be pumping them full of chemicals every day? I've looked at the records. Most people don't pay. Some people have been coming daily for months. Doesn't that seem strange to you?'' Jack shrugged. He didn't really understand hu-mans anyway. Louis looked at his cigarette and wished he hadn't put it out. `` All I'm saying is that there is something seriously weird going on. Plus, until recently, all this'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger' was just songs and baseball coaches. Who would have thought that it was actually true?'' `` What chemicals are they using?'' asked Jack. `` That's the strangest thing,'' whispered Louis. `` They started out with things that could actually kill you. Cyanide, heroin - you know. They advertised it as a game to see who could survive the longest. Now? Calcium. It's weird. I swear I've seen some people in your division just pouring milk into the tubes.'' Jack clattered nervously. The [ skeleton ] ( https: //reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/4yot5s/wp_at_first_humanity_is_delighted_when_two_aliens/d6phi7k? context=3 ) takeover was being noticed. Louis paused. `` Come to think of it, your division isn't following the records. You're supposed to be putting pure iron in, now. Yes, I'm sure of it. Our records say that you should be switching to pure", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0093", "text": "the planets. The crowd was silent again. `` Does this mean… whatever happened to them, will happen to us?'' the same questioner asked. `` That, sir, is the question we want to ask. The real questions are: why? What happened? How? What can we do to prevent this from happening? Anyone have a guess?'' The place was quiet, waiting for some brave soul to answer. Three minutes, still no one stepped forward to hazard a guess. `` Lucky for you, I do have the answers to them,'' he said, his expression growing grave as he continued to talk. `` What is amazing is not the ruins themselves, or the bodies. Or the fact that we are not alone. What is amazing is what drove them to killing themselves. Every last,'' he switched to another planet, `` one,'' another planet, `` of,'' another planet, `` these have been threatened with the space ships that came to them.'' A final holographic displayed showed a fleet of space ships flying past Jupiter. `` They are slave traders. We have one week before they get here.'' The room burst with anger words spewing out their feelings at this. Some of disbelief, of outrage, of despair. `` We know this,'' his voice grew louder to be heard over the din, `` because we found 38 planets with ruins and they have shown no bodies like the others do.'' The room fell silent again, his words silenced the skeptics. `` We have no option, we must kill ourselves before we become slaves to some… some aliens. I am quite certain we will not enjoy being slaves.'' — The fleet of ships landed on Earth. The doors opened on all spacecrafts. The people within stepped out, looking around and stared at the bodies with dismay. `` Not another one! Why do they keep killing themselves just before we could get here to make peace talks? Does no one in the galaxy want to do business in selling and exchanging fruits?'' `` I don't know, it's a shame… I saw on the monitors that they seem to have some tasty fruits here…'' a guy said, walking to stand next to the first person. The first person sighed, shaking his head. `` I guess we'll raid all the fruits and their seeds and move on. I hate this place, just like the rest.'' The group was silent for a moment. `` Well, let's get gathering, men and women,'' the second man said.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0094", "text": "we go through and feels the need to add more and more weight onto our shoulders.'' `` If you don't mind my curiosity, can I ask what happened to the deal?'' After a silent moment that loudly stated Jane was in deep though, she relieved her answer. `` Yeah, I botched it up. It was supposed to be a multi-million dollar deal, I was finally able to see a light at the end of the tunnel and I let it get to me.'' A moment of silence then passed, as Jane realized that Alex would not probe further, for she had already started talking. So she continued `` The thought of being my own CEO, the feeling of really and truly becoming something, living a life that I would be proud to call my own. I just let it all get to me, I cracked under the pressure.'' After an unnaturally long silence, she quietly managed to get out `` I was so scared, I didn't even attend the final meeting. I just sat there until my time came, I stood up and left the building. To be honest I've been a nervous wreck since.'' Alex, knowing the undoubtedly great impact that his words were about to have, took a moment to compose himself before uttering a sound. `` First and foremost, I want to thank you for being open and honest with me, it is these acts that make us human and who we are. Secondly, I do not believe that you made a bad decision.'' Obviously perplexed by his words, Jane managed to let out a short sentence between borrowed breaths of air while holding back tears. `` what do you mean?'' Alex promptly replied, `` You know far better than I do, the value of money and wealth. If there was anybody in this world that I look up to on these matters, it would without doubt be you. I've seen the things you've accomplished, and Ive been blessed to witness the blossoming of the seeds you have planted for yourself. It's important that you don't confuse happenings for their face value, you never will have any idea where that business venture would have taken you, and you likely never will. If there is anybody in this world that is capable of building something from nothing, I know this to be your calling.'' Jane, obviously taken aback by the words of her close friend, did not mutter a word for the next amount of time it took three or maybe four people to receive their drinks.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0095", "text": "*Ugh. * The blunt punches stung Bruce Wayne as he lay on the floor but the officers, wreathed in shadow, continued the brutal onslaught. *Day 15. * The day of the trial. Bruce brooded in between strikes to his sternum. His arrest had been sudden. Two-Face had organized the whole charade with the help of Hush who had played the part of Bruce Wayne perfectly. *They had to use their brains at some point, * Bruce thought. It was more than a good plan, Bruce had to admit that, it was impossible not to come, people would have died. A fresh punch to the cheek woke Bruce from his short stupor. `` That's enough, get the bastard up, he's got a date with Judge Wilkins.'' *Hahahahahaha, * the officers laughed as they unceremoniously dragged Bruce Wayne to his feet. The walk through the holding cells was unpleasant if not familiar. Now instead of jeers about Batman, the crooks were shouting insults about Bruce Wayne, about his parents, his money, his love interest. `` Say Brucie, how long do you think it'll take to find little Miss Vale after they smoke your brain with a thousand volts eh?'' Bruce Wayne looked at each of them in turn, remembering their faces, remembering what they did to end up in those cells. Then suddenly, he was through a set of doors and another into the courtroom. He was met with boos from the packed audience, but was astonished to find that half the people sitting had on Batman masks that you'd find at a dollar store. Bruce didn't feel particularly relieved about it. He was sat next to an empty seat where his lawyer, Robert Madenson should have been, an old friend of Harvey's who stayed relatively clean and had helped Wayne enterprises with some criminal investigations falsely accused against the corporation. But he wasn't there. `` Well Mr. Wayne,'' the Judge stated. `` Unusual circumstances have caused a delay in the trial. I am sorry to inform you that your legal counsel Mr. Madenson has been found dead in his home. Hanged himself. He wrote a suicide note mentioning you in name.'' Bruce couldn't believe it, no, it wasn't true. He tried to get up but was promptly slammed down onto the table again. `` Your honor, I spoke to Madenson two days ago, there is no way he would", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0096", "text": "MICAH is a full AI humanoid with no mechanical parts. His body was actually made from Data Matter. Data Matter is like matter, but easier to manipulate via electrical signals. And this matter can be used to form different matter. It can be as hard as titanium and suddenly as liquid-ish as mercury in a split second. His body isn ’ t the only impressive thing he has. His ‘ mind ’ or his Core, located deep in the head of his body, is the only thing that isn ’ t made from Data Matter since it is the thing that manipulates the Data Matter. His Core is programmed by Dr. Goldman, the best software scientist known to mankind. MICAH, or Micah, is the fruit of all of Dr. Goldman ’ s research. Micah ’ s Core is programmed exactly like how a human brain functions and he even has feelings. Even though Dr. Goldman ’ s project MICAH sounded like a good idea, there were some factions of people who opposed the idea. Some said that Dr. Goldman was playing God. Some said that Dr. Goldman would wipe out humanity when Micah felt the need to wipe out humanity who were actually destroying Mother Nature. One night, when Micah was in his charging bay taking a break from a hard day ’ s work of helping Dr. Goldman ’ s research. Micah heard something that woke him up from his sleep. His eyes scanned were like clockwork as he scanned the room for the source of the noise. There was a loud bang, followed by a loud thud. Micah ’ s processor could only come out with one scenario – Dr. Goldman ’ s being shot at. Micah literally dashed through the lab, towards Dr. Goldman ’ s bedroom. There he was, standing on a pool of some sort of thick liquid Micah never seen before. He activated his sensors on his legs. Blood. He felt a new sensation he never felt before. Was this the human emotion panic that Dr. Goldman taught him? He looked up and saw Dr. Goldman ’ s limp body on the floor. His optic sensors switched into X-ray mode. Dr. Goldman ’ s heart wasn ’ t moving. He ran towards Dr. Goldman. He quickly extracted the bullet out and filled the bullet wound with Data Matter in attempt to clot the blood. Micah placed his palms on Dr. Goldman ’ s chest, output set to 300 volts. Dr. Goldman ’ s body jumped from the shock.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0097", "text": "*So this is my first post here. Probably a bit long, but I have no shame. I ’ m open to C & C, I don ’ t do this stuff often, and I had fun anyways. * I awoke face down. I drew breath, my throat felt dry and sore. My body felt stiff, as if I had awoke from a very long sleep. I rose to my feet, and took in my surroundings. I was seemingly standing on thin air, though the ground felt hard as stone. I took a glance down and saw smoke and fire. Rivers of lava casting flairs miles high, and monsters with mangled faces carrying weapons and devices of the most grievous design and purpose. I glanced up and saw glorious light shooting down from great golden shrines and alters. Men, women and children danced upon immense clouds with silky wings. The air grew thick in my lungs. I gasped one deep, long breath. My heart raced, and I swallowed hard. I could guess where I was. I glanced around for a moment. Suddenly, a flash. I swung my head to avoid the bright light, and dropped to a low stance. When I looked back, I saw him. Me. Standing across from me with a solemn face, hands at his sides. `` Hello Onyx_Kantus.'' It spoke with an otherworldly, ethereal voice that seemed to echo off of the invisible boundaries of this place. `` I am your arbitrator. I have been the voice guiding you on your path, and watched you grow since the beginning of your existence. I am partially responsible for your creation, and now, I will be responsible for your role in the upcoming eternity.'' The severity of the situation started to sink in. I dared to state the obvious. `` You are the one who decides if I am worth salvation, or deserving of damnation?'' `` Yes.'' It replied. I glanced around once more. Not for anything in particular, but for anything that might help me. There was nothing. `` I sense you are unsure of your current standings within the books of judgment.'' It remarked. `` Simply understanding my current situation.'' I replied. Its face dropped to a frown, and it took a few steps towards me. `` There ’ s little point in lying to me, nor can you delay your fate, one way or another.'' It stopped a few feet away from me, and glanced down. I followed its gaze", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0098", "text": "calloused. I took a step back and looked in the mirror. I felt... so strong, so powerful. But what was perhaps most perplexing was the large'89' etched into the palm of my right hand. As I studied it, there was a knock at the door. *Knock* *Knock* `` Who the fuck is that... it's nearly midnight?'' I thought to myself as I walked to the door, careful not to wake my wife. I peered through the window, but I saw nothing. Normally I would have looked for a weapon, normally I would have called the police, but not now, now I was fearless for reasons I couldn't explain. I opened the door. `` Who is out there?!'' I yelled into the darkness. As if to respond, a man stepped into the light, he was very skinny and around 6'5 feet tall. He was wearing a black cloak that covered his body. I took a step forward and closed the door. `` This time you both are coming with me'' He said through clenched teeth. `` I can't say I know what you're talking about'' He seemed to shake with rage. `` Do you need help? do you need me to call someone for you?'' I said, trying to muster as much sympathy as possible. He looked up at me. `` Just like three months ago, let's do this!!'' He screamed as he ran towards me, but I didn't move. Maybe from the shock, maybe from fear. He was getting closer. I closed my eyes. Focusing on the sound of his feet. *Pff, pft, pff, pft, pfff, pffffffffffffft.....* Slowly I opened my eyes. It was as though the whole world had slowed to nearly a halt, but somehow still moving at the same speed. He raised his fist and thrust it towards me. Time sped up again, but so did I. I moved my head slightly, easily avoiding his attack. I pushed my hand forward and grabbed his face, clutching it tightly. Then suddenly I felt energy flow through my chest and up my arm. There was harsh *Crack*. His eyes widened for a moment, then closed slowly as his body went limp. I stood in shock... still holding the body. I snapped to my senses when I heard the door behind me. I turned to see my wife", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0099", "text": "Lord Herrington stepped up to the podium, gazing out at his audience. The usual learned men of London had gathered for the Royal Society's monthly presentation, but he also saw a multitude of members of the public in the audience as well, looking eagerly up at him. With a sigh, Lord Herrington resisted the urge to reach up and adjust his pince-nez. Word of his return from the New World had traveled quickly, making him something of a celebrity among those with an adventurous mindset. They'd come tonight to here him tell his tale, hoping for glimpses of another world, one far beyond their own humdrum lives. He intended to speak of his observations on the biological variations in life, but he sensed his audience's hunger for more. They didn't want to hear about varying adaptations in the hooves of Cervidates to adapt to the moist jungle environment. So as he wound down his speech, Lord Herrington decided to throw a bone to these common folks who had come out to hear him speak. Perhaps, he thought to himself, he could ensure that they did not leave completely disappointed. `` And so, as I conclude, I want to share a legend that comes from the New World,'' he spoke up, noting how several sagging heads in the audience perked up at the mention of a legend. Yes, this was what they wanted. Herrington smiled a little, his eyes growing slightly misty as he remembered the stream rising up from the sea in midday, the calls of men as they bent their backs over their hollow log canoes. He'd gone out with them, watched their lives unfold, learned about the intrigue and scandal and stories of their little village. And they, eventually, opened up to him with their stories. `` There is an island,'' he went on, `` known as Isla De La Plata, off the far coast of Ecuador, on the far shores of the sea we know as the Pacific. The island is far smaller than our own, and tough for adventurers to find, as it is oft shrouded in mist.'' Herrington looked up from his podium, his eyes sparkling as he looked around at the audience. `` But even more than that - the guide who brought me to Isla De La Plata claims that it moves, and this is why only those from its shore can ever find their way back.'' For just a moment, Herrington let the idea dance in the minds of", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0100", "text": "well.. your save.'' She let the question hang in the air for a minute. He looked over at her and gave her a look to continue. ``... I know mum used hers when she was in her twenties. And she used it to go back and avoid marrying some other man who she said abused her. I used mine when I first fell pregnant, and stopped my miscarriage from happening.'' She shuddered at the thought. `` I just, always wanted to know. When did you use yours?'' He looked across at her and sighed. `` I haven't'' `` When I was in my twenties, I was worried I would waste it. You can only go back to it once, so I wanted to be careful. And then I met your mother, and we married. In my thirties I had you, and in my forties and fifties I somehow got your brothers, your sister and you to grow up into semi-responsible adults. In my sixties and early seventies I travelled the world with your mother until she...'' his voice croaked as he spoke ``... passed. And then I was 89. And I had great grandchildren. And cancer.'' She interrupted `` I was wondering... if... maybe you could go back, and find the cancer earlier?'' Tears were pouring from her eyes. `` I don't want to lose you daddy''. He smiled. She had always been his little girl, his eldest. She might be almost sixty now, but a parents love never changes. `` The problem my love is that of planning. You see, in all that living, I completely forgot to make a save.'' She burst into tears and leaned over the bed onto his legs, sobbing into his lap. `` Sweetheart, even if I had made a save all those years ago, I still wouldn't go back.'' `` But why not?'' she said sniffing. Her mascara was running down her face, and it reminded him of when she was eleven, and had first clumsily put on her mothers make-up. He smiled, and stroked her hair. `` Because darling, I wouldn't for all the universe want to change one thing''.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 445, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0101", "text": "I farted in his mouth. I farted in his mouth until his eyes watered and he begged me to stop. He was practically weeping at this point, and that's when I decided to shit in his mouth. But I'm not a bad guy. He's the bad guy, I swear. You'll understand at the end. You really will, I swear. It all started when I met a girl named Sarah. Sarah and I hit it off just right, she was in all the same health classes as me, so of course I had to bang her. We did it in one of the music practice rooms, where they keep all the pianos. No one ever went in there, so we decided that we could be as loud as we wanted. That's how I learned that she had this really annoying, very shrieky moan that pierced your ears so hard that I swear they were bleeding after you got done giving her the ol' dong. After it ended, she'd say, `` I had a great time'' or `` I can't wait to see you again'' and I'd have to pretend that I did too. I really didn't though. The truth is, I'm actually gay. No one knows this. In fact, I'm even known as the ladies man within my group of friends. They're always asking me how I bang all these girls and I always give them the same answer, `` Pretend you're gay.'' This one friend in particular, John, really had a thing for Sarah. Of course, he didn't know that I had been giving Sarah the ol' dong for about three weeks now, so you can imagine how heartbroken he must have felt when she told him the news. I tried to console him and all, but he'd just keep saying, `` leave me alone,'' or `` I really like her''. I felt bad, not because I hurt his feeling or anything, but because I felt that he was missing out on some vital human experience or something. It kind of depressed me actually. I read in a magazine once that people that don't have sex end up going blind, and my eyesight is already not so good. So I decided right then and there that he needed something. He needed to feel alive or something. So I looked right at ol' John and said, `` Hey John? ``, and he said, `` What?'' and that's when I", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0102", "text": "`` You. You really think you're something special, do n't you?'' The man with the glasses hair looked down at the boy. He had been looking longingly at a toy soldier sitting on a shelf in the window. His shelf. His window. “ Cause you know what? You aren ’ t, kid. You ’ re just a piece of trash, and you know what happens to pieces of trash? They get kicked around. Think you can change that, kid? Huh? ” The boy broke the man ’ s stare, shuddering as a single tear rolled down his puffy cheek, leaving a shiny streak. “ Answer me! ” He screamed “ No. ” “ Good. Move! ” Love As the boy ran off, the man ’ s heart shattered into a thousand shards onto the pavement. He hung his head in shame and guilt, right out there for the entire grown up world to see. Entering her room, he saw the horrible, black, twisted shadow hovering over Juliette ’ s still body. “ There. Are you happy now? ” “ Yes, quite. ” The being replied nonchalantly. “ That was quite enjoyable, really. ” He stared at the Thing, eyes red-stained with tears. “ I hate you. ” “ Oh, what did I just hear? ” A pair of scissors appeared, protruding from her chest. “ No! I ’ m sorry! Make it stop! Please! ” Sad Time Juliette ceased coughing immediately. “ That ’ s better. ” The Thing seemed to laugh. “ Now, I ’ m getting hungry again. ” “ Okay. Just…Please don ’ t hurt her. Please! ” “ You ’ d better hurry, then… ” He ran outside, almost tripping on the door. As his feet hit the cobble, he found he could no longer contain the anguish he was feeling. “ Oh, God, Please! Please help me! Please! ” He sobbed, choking on his words. “ I hate it! I hate the Thing! ” He had to feed the Thing soon, or else it would become angry. “ Stupid girl! ” he yelled `` You are n't very pretty...''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 455, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0103", "text": "someone pick up on it nice and quick. I checked my watch. 9:41AM. We were running out of time. **** 9:42AM `` Does anyone stick out to you?'' she whispered and I shook my head. We could probably eliminate a few potential suspects by process of elimination. A young family probably wasn't going to cause a problem, the elderly couple as well. Stuff like that. As I watched I saw there were three people acting nervously. One portly man checking his watch a little too frequently. A younger man sweating profusely. A woman glancing around with what I would describe as suspicion. I pointed them out to her and she agreed. So maybe we had three suspects. Or maybe we had three nervous flyers. 9:45AM. Seconds were ticking by and we had a very limited number of those to start. As we stood there a flight attendant approached us from behind. She startled both of us and that's when the woman turned and locked eyes with me. Then her eyes went wide and she knew that someone knew. She bolted from her seat and reached for the overhead compartment. That's when I slammed into her full force, throwing both our bodies to the hard floor and skidding at least three rows ahead. When I lifted my head I was staring down the barrel of a handgun. A young man, sweating profusely, was holding the right end of it and I was definitely on the wrong end. He wasn't holding a badge though. Which meant things were going from bad to worse.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 318, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0104", "text": "http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/1uclbo/wp_present_day_youve_acquired_a_time_device_that/ http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/1uclgs/wpeu_the_american_government_abolishes_all_paper/ -003 -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - I faced the monument, focused on the tiny letters etched into the granite base. The world rippled from the corners of my eyes before the distortion covered my vision. When the waters cleared, the same inscription stared back at me. “ In Memory of those who have gone before us… ” I surrendered a half smile. Now I was one who had gone before. I stepped back and turned around the darkened shrine of the memorial. Here, behind the statue and facing the wall, I had the best chance of no one seeing me shimmer into view. I checked the timer on my wrist, thankful to be back in a time where wearing a watch was inconspicuous. It has already started counting down. “ 29 minutes and 14 seconds, ” I murmured. “ Better find someone and get out of here as soon as possible. ” I pulled on the edges of my jacket, smoothed by hair and straightened my collar. I ’ d have to look the part if anyone was going to listen to me. And they had to listen. That wasn ’ t an option. I moved forward, my steps echoing around the dome. My grin grew with each step as I listened to the silence in my pockets. I looked around to make sure I was alone, then I jumped. I landed with a satisfying thud on the smooth marble. No change jingled from my light-as-air pockets. The crisp dollar bills – carefully chosen to date before 2012 – barely crinkled, filling my pockets with more money than I had ever had in my possession. No one wants to carry around $ 10 in pennies. The sunlight blinded me as I walked around the corner. I stood, blinking rapidly, waiting for my eyes to adjust. Then, I looked out at the world of 2014. People walked and talked through the square. Some sat on benches or on the edges of the fountain. Some ate lunch, others walked dogs or reclined on blankets on the soft, green grass. “ Beautiful, ” I whispered. An old man gave me a sideways look. “ It ’ s just", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0105", "text": "powerful and knowledgeable. `` I know. Look'God,' you may be more powerful than me. You may be more factually retentive than I am. But the fact of the matter is that not only did I discover proof of God's existence, but I discovered against your wishes.'' `` Fine. The jig is up. I'm neither all-powerful nor all-knowing. But you're giving me that proof.'' `` No.'' `` No?!'' `` I've proven an omniscient, omnipotent God. You may be a powerful alien, but you aren't God.'' John thought for just a second more. `` Besides, If you were able to stop me, you wouldn't be asking.'' The glimmering figure, seeing that all hope in the conversation was lost, materialized a green portal and walked away. `` You make a good point, John. Goodbye then.'' __________________ John was now emboldened by his discovery. He spread his new religion to the far corners of the earth. Deism, once just a religion for the politically elite, quickly overcame the scientific community. But then the common people revolted. Unmoved by math and reason, the world quickly fell to mass hysteria. _______________________ Miles above, the figure conspired with his sons. All had gone according to plan. `` Mohammed, you'll conquer the land. Jesus, you'll take the water. Noodles, you have the sky.'' `` Prepare the invading forces.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 300, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0106", "text": "`` Too long I have waited, Don Jorge'' Cristobal said with a worried smile on his face. `` Don't trouble yourself mijo, It'll only be for a month, maybe less since this time a year the *molejeros* are not in active patrol'' Don Jorge replied while he was staring at the shipping route map. *This time a year was ripe for travel and many legal and illegal excursions left out of Ponce de Leon city*. Cristobal thought leaned over the edge of the wood walkway besides Don Jorge's humble hut. Don Jorge came from a long family of seariders that had fought in the first Cuban war with the British empire. He has intimate knowledge of the ocean waters around the eastern coast of Africa and the and a lot of contacts that will help him get a seat in Bocanegra's boat. Bocanegra is, by far, the most successful smuggler out the coasts of southern India. He even has operations out of the coast of California. So far only two expeditions have been caught, and most likely due to informers that somehow found a way into the boats. How Don Jorge and Bocanegra ever came into contact is still a mystery. A mystery Cristobal is never hoping to solve. Cristobal had to beg, for many months to Don Jorge, doing all sorts of odd jobs to get the spot he has sorely wanted for years. All of his brothers had already left and were probably a few days away from Chenningham. Cristobal knew that even with the *molejeros* on standby mode, the trip was still dangerous. Just being cramped in that boat in Jesus-knows-what conditions was prime for diseases, storms could ravage the boat to many miles off-course, which was already as far away from the active patrol areas. The pirates are what Cristobal fears the most, it is not uncommon for *balseros* never to be heard from again, Specially at the Johannesburg turn. Cristobal would've liked a California trip, as the Chinese didn't care if a bunch of *balseros* arrived in India. The patrols were a lot more lenient, even some of the officers ran operations with Bocanegra. Cristobal didn't have the means to go through Carolina, through Mexico and finally arrive at California. Don Jorge could've gotten him a spot on the", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0107", "text": "'Yesterday.' I told him.'Fucking. Yesterday.' Some chap had come over to interview me and fair play to him. Rig 22/30c-13 rig `` The Dock'', Elgin Gas Field, North Sea, 240km from Aberdeen. Getting here was hard work to say the least, so I afforded him some of my time. My suit was in for repairs. He seemed the affable sort and some outside company made for a novel experience. It gets tiresome talking to the same 15 people. I'll set aside the recollection of the pleasantries. Who gives a toss about smalltalk these days? 'Alright then.' began my interviewer,'Can you tell me what it is you do for the record?' 'Well, I don't have an official title per se. People call me Trawler. I use a suit that stays at one bar of pressure to dive to the sea floor. There, I kill walkers. Float the buggers to the surface and then move on to where I'm needed. All in all, I look after every platform on the North Sea.' 'Well, it's certainly new to me. Let's go into some more detail. Tell me about your suit.' He asked, pen poised. 'Sure, the Atmospheric Diving Suit or ADS for short is capable of holding a diver at atmospheric pressure at the bottom of the ocean. This isn't your bogstandard scuba suit, I look more like an astronaut or a Scooby Doo villain. It consists of linked joints and a metal exoskeleton. It's been modified since to the point that I can stay down for twice as long as the original model. Zed's can't even touch me.' 'Good stuff. Now. I've seen your suit, it's massive. Movement can't be simple. How exactly do you deal with them? Do you use the Lobo or some kind of harpoon gun?' he inquired politely. 'I did manage to get hold of a Lobo, but they're just not compatible with the ADS. I actually use, and this is embarassing, fencing rapiers.' I replied, this is the first time I'd told someone, the look on his face should be cracking. 'Sorry? Fencing rapiers?' asked the interviewer, baffled. His face a satisfying sight,'Where did you get rapiers and why?' 'It's simple really", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0108", "text": "2 people present in the first row. There are 6 people in the next row. There are 4 people in the next row, but they…don ’ t seem right. I move closer. The stasis fluid pools around their pods. What is this? Their bodies slouch drunkenly on the sides and walls of their pods, not allowed enough room to collapse to the floor. There were no people in my row, but I run to the third row to check for the final person. There is no one there. I check my row, just to be sure. There is no one there. I turn to run to the control room, my bio-glow casting unnatural shadows as I pass the empty stasis chambers. My shadow is cast well in front of me. Directly in front of me. It isn ’ t moving. –It isn ’ t moving. I run into my shadow. It smiles at me, haggardly, wild. This is no shadow. This woman ’ s suit has been pulled down from her mouth, leaving her body exposed. Is she wearing a suit at all? She stands there, nude without the deep purple sheen that the suit casts over the body. Her eyes are wide. Her grin is toothy. She grabs me, ripping at my spine. I can ’ t scream. My suit won ’ t allow it. I can ’ t move. How is she controlling it? She drags me slowly through the hallways, my trapped consciousness struggles futilely against her. Against the fear bubbling up from the primal root of my brain. We ’ re moving towards hallway Z. She turns too soon: so slow. She has several months, maybe years, before the others will come out of stasis. Is she choosing them at random? I can hear her ragged breathing. She ’ s breathing with her body. How long can she live this way, without a suit? She lays my body down in a small room. She ’ s ripping at my spine again. I feel her long, unkempt nails at the base of my neck, pulling my suit over my head. She leaves the room, closing the door. Smiling. I take a breath in, with my body. The air burns as it enters my lungs after so long. My first breath. I glimpse the room plaque briefly as I ’ m scratched out suddenly by an absence of atmosphere. My red bio-glow completely engulf", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0109", "text": "did you leave her, father?'' he asked, his voice starting to break. `` Why did I leave who?'' `` MY MOTHER!'' roared Tom, standing up as tears began to fall. `` My mother and your wife! She was pregnant and you left her! She had to fight and struggle every single day. Your absence ensured she could never recover. Do you even know how she died?'' ``... no, I do not.'' `` She died,'' Tom spoke softly, his voice shaking as he tried to regain his emotions, his face stained with tears, `` an hour after giving birth to me. In an orphanage, on New Year's Eve, just on the edge of London. Her final act was to give me your name, and give me her love. I don't even want to think what would have happened if it was your love I received.'' `` Now, look here,'' countered Riddle Sr, `` Your mother enticed me - tricked me - into loving her. Every day, she gave me potions that clouded my mind until all I saw was her. She used me. In her delight, she believed that I would love her anyway. But how could I? Everything we had was a lie her magic had concocted. All magic is a lie.'' `` That can't be true, you're lying!'' `` If you had spent less time with your stick and more time with your eyes on a history book, you would have noticed that not once - ever - did we interact with each other. I was a bachelor of the upper class. She lived in squalor, out of sight. I was betrothed to Cecilia, she admired me from a distance. How else could your mother had caused me to elope?'' Tom was calculating every possibility, every scenario. He had thought he knew how it could have all gone, but he realised that he had been ignoring the biggest fact of all - his mother was in the wrong. She had made his father fall for her. He had been right to leave. He had been right to despise his child. His mother loved both of her Toms, but only one was truly hers. Riddle Sr's life had been damaged, all because his mother couldn't stop her infatuation. `` I'm... I'm sorry, father.'' Tom apologised. `` Don't call me that, boy,'' replied Riddle", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0110", "text": "I awake to the sound of my mother and father watching television, having a heated conversation about whats on. `` hey son, get in here and look at this.'' my father shouts through the thin walls of my home. `` ugh.'' I grunt slowly getting up from my bed and shuffling towards the door. As I walk into the living room i notice they're watching the news. `` The world is in shock as hundreds of thousands of people awoke only to find themselves transformed into.. it seems to be, tattoos.'' the anchorman reports. `` Oh my god!'' my mother screams staring out the window with an expression of pure terror. My father and I run towards the window and peer out. Just as the anchorman reported there are people riddled throughout the street, suddenly changed into a tattoo. I look over near the bus stop and see a big bright red heart that has'Mom' written on it trying to get on the bus, but his arrows are too wide to fit the door. Just past him it looked like a dragon with barbed wire buying a coffee. There is a knock on the door. My mother goes to answer it saying, `` It must be your brother, he just got out of 8am class. As my mother opens the door she lets out the loudest, high pitched scream I've ever heard. Sure enough, there was my brother, a huge sign that said `` Blow Me'' with arrows on both sides pointing down. scratching his head he laughs, `` I guess its about time i told you guys about my tattoo huh?''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 321, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0111", "text": "It wasn't a snakelike hiss. It was the commanding voice of a being more than used to making tough decisions on a daily basis. `` You're...'' I didn't have words. Lucifer swiveled in his chair to face me. He had dark black hair, blue eyes and a scar that wound its way down his face from his left temple to his jaw on his right side. `` Take a seat Ezriel. We need to talk.'' He said calmly. `` You were right.'' Was the first thing I said. `` This whole time you were right.'' `` A father wouldn't cast out his son like that.'' He agreed. `` But I just couldn't believe that God is..'' `` We don't believe he's dead. Missing or captured, absolutely. But our father isn't dead.'' He said firmly. `` Zachariah, my counter part up there, would love to get someone inside my operation. Convince me why I should trust you.'' He leaned forward, staring at me intently. I noticed that the desk between us had disappeared, and that Lucifer was now toying with a very large knife as opposed to a glass of brandy. `` I killed five of my brothers to get to your people. I'm marked for death by every single on of my former comrades.'' I said angrily. `` Every single of Zach's spies have said that. Every. Single. One.'' He articulated that point by gesturing with the knife. `` What do you really want?'' Lucifer asked. `` Why are you here Ezriel?'' `` I..I want freedom. To think how I want. To admire fathers work as something more than a museum piece. To live how I want.'' I said, surprised at my own answer. `` I cast something that compels to give the most honest answer you can. It tends to weed out the spies. Benign enough to be ignored by most counter spell work but immensely powerful.'' He said smiling. The knife was gone now. `` Welcome to the Fallen.'' He said shaking my hand.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 421, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0112", "text": "Oh, The Many Things She'd Do NOT by Dr Seuss I met a girl who liked to suck She liked to ride, she liked to fuck She liked to grind, she liked to twerk She liked to rub, she liked to jerk Oh, the many things she'd do The list is long, but here's a few: She sucked my dick while on a train She sucked my dick while on a plane She gave me head, she gave me brain She sucked so good, I went insane! She blew me once while at the fair And then I blew all in her hair! She blew me once a mile high And then I blew right in her eye! Oh, the many things she'd do This girls was special, that I knew We did it in the country We did it the city We did it in the booty But that was kinda shitty I fucked her in the thighs I fucked her in the tits I fucked her in the ear And then in both armpits Oh, the many things she'd do I'm getting hard now, how'bout you? She sucked me off in summer She sucked me off in fall She knew how to deep throat Yeah, that girl could take it all She was a special lady She really loved to please And that's why she had rug burns All over both her knees I'd bust a nut all on her back I'd bust all on her tummy I'd bust a nut all in her mouth She said it tasted yummy Oh, the many things she'd do I love her so, that much was true And once when I could come no more I tried reciprocating The taste of her sweet juices, yeah That's what I was craving I slipped her frilly panties off While down on bended knee To my surprise a rock hard cock Was staring back at me! Oh, the many things she'd do But could I handle man goo, too? I did n't have to think for long 'Cause I'm a gentleman I grabbed a hold and sucked her dry And I swear I'd do it again! Edit: Formatting", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 419, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0113", "text": "the dog, watching it playfully lick and bite her fingers. My own youth was mirrored in this dog, its energy and innocence something I've long forgotten... She tugged at my shoulder and pointed, eyes gleaming, the most emotion I've seen from her in a long while. I stare at the dog, its stupid face panting and tail wagging. I nodded slowly, in defeat. *** We named her Kasper. Sort of like Casper the friendly ghost, with a small twist. She bounded off our walls like a white snowball of pure energy, and cuddled with her often. But something was off. It was only the second week, but we found the dog drooling heavily. We took her in to a vet, and they said she'll grow out of it. For some reason the dog hated me, and acted as if I didn't exist, but of course loved *her*. I didn't complain, and a few more weeks passed. I was reading one day when I hear a faint moan and a crash in the kitchen. I sprint there only to find her collapsed on the ground, the door open. She wasn't breathing, the dog nowhere to be seen. I call 911. *** She's dead. How could she be dead. She was alive. I never told her how much I needed her in my life, how much I loved her, what our wedding day meant to me. And now she's *gone*. I didn't deserve this. No one deserves this. *** A mysterious virus has killed half a million people. everyone is panicking. the government has tried to calm us down, but we know the truth. I know the truth. I took a vial of the dog's saliva to a lab. There's an unknown virus. In that saliva. The dog is missing. I haven't told anyone. *** it's chaos. People are dying. I loved her. I never got to say goodbye. *** they took her from me. i kill them. eat them. dogs. man's best friend? man's worse enemy. *** tHey b0mb mi hous. wat r they hopin to accomplish. *they* rule the world. hateful, demon spawn. *LEAVE ME*", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 461, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0114", "text": "jobs, ones that her crew might be interested in, and after a few brief messages over the holonet he had scheduled a meet with her here. Iella had even checked with Norn, but he was as lost as she was on the Horn head's origin. Glancing over at the bar, Iella saw the Sullustan catch her eye and give a slight nod. They had come to like each other over the last few years the Void Stalker had been based in Handooine, but this nod was more business, him showing he was prepared for any eventuality with the Devaron. Breaking contact, a cloaked figure caught Iella's attention as it stood in the entryway, scanning the room. As Iella swished her whiskey in its tumbler as the cloaked figure focused in on her sitting in the rear. Picking his way through the tables on the floor and narrowly avoiding one drunk Bith throwing up, the cloaked figure slid into the other side of the booth. Now Iella could see the points of two horns barely altering the shape of the top of his cloak. Small horns, Iella thought to herself with an internal chuckle. Devarons were proud people, and horns meant a lot to them, this one's small horns probably made him the brunt of more than a few ribbings. `` Captain Recorn, pleasure to meet you.'' The cloaked figure said as he shifted in his seat attempting to get comfortable. `` My name is Kelanso.'' `` Yes you as well, though I'll have to ask you to lower your hood, I prefer to be able to see someone when I talk business with them.'' Iella replied a bit coolly. `` Ah, yes of course.'' Kelanso said as he reached up and pulled back his hood. He wasn't a particularly good looking Devaron, but not an ugly one either, and Iella noted her observation about his horns had been right, short little stubby things stuck out of his head. He flashed her a pointed teeth smile before continuing. `` Now, I understand your ship is looking for a job?'' `` Yes we are, we're willing to ship almost anything within reason and we'll ship it to almost anywhere, all you would have to do is name the time and place and we'd be there.'' Iella said as she sipped at her whiskey again. `` Yes, I heard as much", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0115", "text": "took over him for a moment before, out of nothingness, an atom of purple energy spawned metres infont of his window. This atom folded and expanded into what seemed like the purple streak. A pointing top with a elongated bottom, and an excess of energy hanging from inbetween the bottom. It began to solidify and the purple dispersed. What Vincentius was witnessing was not a beautiful shooting star, but a Wizard perched upon a broomstick. His chin was fine and bold, his eyes purple, cold and devoid of the heart warming feeling the Prince shed to his adorers. A dark cloak covered his body, only hanging feet in battered sandles and visible hands with black nails were evident apart from his face. `` You have been watching me.'' The soft, brazen voice rightfully claimed. `` I did not know you were... I'' lost for words Vincentius was humbled by a cold sweat, this unease frustrated but controlled him. Maybe not visually but secretly he was satisfied being dumbfounded by such a being. His eyes managed to move, observing this Wizard's lips, long eyelashes, pale lifeless skin. `` You can see me, I am impressed. Not many can comprehend dark magic. It's tragic, that you are who you are.'' cried the Wizard. `` What do you mean?'' he replied. `` You are a Prince, to a King that wants my head. He does not wish to reason instead. Whereas, you my honourable Prince.'' The Wizard edged closer, Vincentius' heart accelerated. `` I can teach you a lot of things.'' The Wizard oddly stated, offering out a hand to Vincentius. His captivation was not merely awe, it was much more. Love at first sight with a phenomenon of evil, would the Prince really betray his own people? He considered his position, stepping back from the helping hand. `` As much as I would love to understand you, I have a position to respect.'' A knock on the door disrupted the Prince's attention. Turning to the door for a moment, he turned back to find the Wizard had vanished. Awkwardly he felt at a loss, but as his said he had a duty as a Prince. The door creaked open accidentally. Shocked and embarrassed by this clumsiness, the Maiden was quick to apologise - bowing her head in naive shame. `` I am so sorry my Lord, I didn't k-'' a", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0116", "text": "fawn over the wolf, but times are bad. Times are worse than they've been in a long time, and Victoria Gitti is the most charismatic of many evils. Mei Li is in Beijing, in her offices, and her PA is on the vidscreen, asking her about a call from Representative Correa. Mei Li waves it on. Correa looks grim, backlit by a smoky orange light barely diffused by the fine curtains of his home office. `` Good morning, Representative Dou,'' he says in Mandarin, stony faced. `` Andreas,'' she replies, returning to her paperwork. `` I think I know why you called.'' `` You're the last vote on the Cities Conglomerate, Mei Li,'' he says, dropping all pretenses. When she raises her eyes to the vidscreen, he looks wretched. There's a bruise forming across one cheekbone and he's down to his shirtsleeves. He must have been out in the riots, trying to stop his constituents from doing anything rash. She doesn't envy him. It may be her turn soon enough. `` We need you for a unanimous vote, and we need a unanimous vote to ensure she has the mandate. We can't risk dissension on this, you understand? We need her to be legitimate.'' Mei Li snorts and sets her pen against the desk. `` Gitti doesn't need us. She doesn't even like us. And I sincerely doubt she requires our endorsement to win. She doesn't seem like the kind of woman to subscribe to the whole'separation of powers' idea.'' `` Now, come on,'' Andreas begins, image momentarily pixelating as the light behind him flares red, `` you can't possibly believe those crackpots, she's not about to—'' `` She *ran* on it, Andreas!'' Mei Li shouts, suddenly furious. She's standing now, fists planted against the desk, and the vidscreen's camera tracks her up. `` Were you not around two days ago, did your translator suddenly give out? She said'we can not let the squabbling of the few drown out the cries of the many.' She said'a diffused government is a weak government.' Andreas, she fucking said'the die has been cast'! She's going to dissolve the URC and assume a very likely indefinite state of emergency, and if you can't see that then god", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 493, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0117", "text": "that we are missing from our files, we can begin to rectify the situation.'' `` You know what,'' said the voice, now mingled with the moist sounds of slurping noodles, `` I've had this problem before, I just need to turn it off and on again.'' `` No sir, I gaurantee this is a matter of information, and is quite urgent. Now if I could just have your social security numbers read off to me, we can begin to-'' `` Here, just give me five minutes. It's been a while since I've done this. I used to be a wiz kid with these machines when I was younger.'' `` Sir, you don't need to do that, I just need your-'' but Roger's speech was cut off as the off switch was pressed, and he ceased to exist. God crouched in his living room, phone nestled into the crook of his neck amd supported with one arm, his other hand hovering over the power switch. `` Okay, I'm turning it back on.'' He muttered into the phone, just as that annoying *beep* singaled a dead line on it. `` Aw, damn it. The bastard hung up on me.'' God returned to the bowl of ramen on his computer desk, and noticed the black screen in front of him. `` Aw, shit. I hate waiting for it to start back up.'' He raised his voice as he turned towards the stairs. `` Yeshua! Yeshua! Get down here!'' `` What is it, Dad?!'' His son came tramping down the stairs, disdain thick in his voice. `` The computer reset, something about'malewares', and that means you're gon na have to do your chores again.'' The boy grumbled as God shoved some noodles into his maw, and spluttered between noodle-bites `` Yeah, yeah, keep moping. Just be sure to be back down in about four billion years.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 404, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0118", "text": "`` Mom? Dad?'' I asked. `` Can we talk for a second?'' I shivered a little bit. I ca n't remember the last time I shivered. `` What is it, son?'' Dad replied. `` It's just...'' I started, and then could n't find the words to finish. Dad noticed the consternation on my face, and said, `` It's OK. Start at the beginning.'' `` Well, lately, I've been feeling... weird. It's like... well, I go out and work in the fields all day, and I never, ever feel tired.'' `` Well, that's what clean country living will get you,'' Mom said. `` No, I mean, I do n't even feel the least bit winded. And lately, I've been hearing things other people do n't hear, and seeing things other people do n't see.'' `` You what?'' Dad raised an eyebrow. `` You did n't hurt your head or anything, did you?'' `` No, I mean real things. Things too far away for anybody else to notice. And that's not all either. Weird things keep happening. Things that make me feel like I do n't belong here. So, I... I...'' `` C'mon, son.'' `` I cut off a lock of your hair and Mom's hair while you were asleep, and I sent it to a lab for testing with some of mine. And they sent me this back.'' I gave them the letter. As they read it, I continued, `` It says they do n't test non-human DNA. *Non-human DNA. * **My** DNA is apparently non-human.'' I was expecting them to be shocked, or... something. I did n't expect what I got. Both of them just gave me a thousand yard stare. As if they knew this was coming, but still did n't know what to say. I pushed them a little further. `` Dad... Mom... What am I?'' Dad breathed a sigh, and turned to Mom. `` Martha, get your coat,'' he said. `` It's time we showed Clark the truth.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 446, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0119", "text": "Janice turned to me, her big blue eyes still full of childish innocence. Damn - I'd forgotten that she was watching the Presidential Inauguration for a school project. `` Daddy,'' she began, `` what does the President mean? What's'gay'?'' `` Well, honey...'' I began, but trailed off as I tried to think of a way to explain it to a five year old. `` Uh... Well, you know how Mommy and Daddy like to hold hands, and to cuddle, and kiss, and stuff?'' `` Yeah! It's funny when Mommy pinches your butt when you're not looking, and makes you squeak!'' she giggled. Kids, man - I'd forgotten what it was like to be so amused by the word `` butt''. Had I ever been that small, that innocent? I waited for her giggles to subside before I carried on. `` Well, sweetheart,'gay' means that he - the President - he likes to do that stuff with a boy, not a girl like Mommy.'' I could see the confusion in her eyes as she struggled to process this new information. Damn you, McCain, for making me explain this to her! She's not old enough for this; she's not ready! *I'M* not ready! Janice opened her mouth to speak. I knew what was coming; I'd opened the door to a lifetime of sexual deviancy. My sweet little girl was gone forever. Suddenly I realized she'd something, and in my worry, I'd completely missed it. `` Sorry, sweetheart - what did you say?'' I asked, fearing her response. What fresh hell have I unlocked? `` I said, I'm hungry. Can I have a cookie? Please, Daddy?'' I was stunned, unable to respond at first. `` Uhm. Sure,'' I answered. `` Get one for your brother, too.'' Huh. I guess that maybe what two consenting adults do behind closed doors is n't that big of a deal after all. Even when they *are* public figures.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 429, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0120", "text": "?'' Pleaded Daniel, at this point far beyond keeping his hopes up. `` Well, the cat lady doesn't seem the type. The rest do tend to send the children on excessively dangerous things. The suspected war criminal actually does a good job at keeping them safe in something as dangerous as potions.'' `` How is potions dangerous?'' The fact that *suspected war criminal* didn't even register until after the question caught Daniel off guard. `` Think of it as chemistry, only with magic and particularly explosive and/or poisonous materials. Handled by kids who don't bother studying enough. We have a betting pool as to how long it takes before the war criminal snaps and starts murdering everyone. So far it seems like the divination professor is closest - in three years or so is her guess.'' `` Ah, that makes things better. Divination means that she can know who is at risk and then you can mitigate the deadly risks here. I thought you were all insane for a while.'' Daniel knew that at this point, it was most likely false hope, because giving children poisons and explosives when they have a proclivity for blowing up one another was making his brain hurt. `` Oh, we're quite fine. The divination professor is insane. And an alcoholic. And that incense in her classroom covers up more than just tobacco, if you catch my drift.'' Replied the professor. `` Weed? You have an alcoholic professor who smokes weed *in class*?'' `` We wish. My money's on crack. Still, at least it's not dangerous as what happens in the greenhouses.'' Daniel was quite sure that this couldn't be good. It was obvious that everyone here was certifiable. The sheer amount of *how the hell do things like this happen* was an affront to sanity. Fixing this would require money he wasn't sure actually existed. The thought of razing the place not being quite enough entered his mind. Sure, they agreed to pay an exorbitant amount of money to the firm in order to fix this place, but he had a creeping sensation that this would be the first thing he couldn't help with. `` Please don't tell me that the professor is half-banshee.'' He whispered. `` That's preposterous. Banshees and humans can't interbreed. Though some of the plants kill if you hear them scream, so you were kind of", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 492, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0121", "text": "n't stay here -'' Sam was interrupted by a loud wheezing noise, and she whirled to face the patient in horror. He had elevated his back off the gurney by his neck and feet, and he inhaled air violently, with his hands at his throat. His chest expanded as his lungs filled with air - bigger, bigger, BIGGER. Sam tried to scream for everyone to run, but it was too late. The man dropped back down, before shooting up to a sitting position. With no warning, he expelled the air from his lungs with a scream. At least, it would've been a scream, but it obfuscation was by the blood in his oesophagus. This blood and saliva sprayed out into the room in thick globs and a fine mist; the miniscule particles floating through the air to land on everyone in the room. The man stopped screaming and slumped forward on himself, before sliding limply off the gurney. Sam, covered in gore, dropped to her knees in resignation. It was too late. It was all too late. They were all infected. She didn't know with what, but they'd all be dead within three days. They'd die the same way this man did. They'd die the same way her husband did, just a day after returning from his year-long service on the International Space Station. They'd die like her daughter did, two days ago. She was going to die with them, but she knew this before she even walked into the hospital today. The only reason she came was to find a way to save herself. But it was all just... too... late. She could already smell it in her skin. That sweet, gut curdling scent that smelled like nothing else on earth.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 365, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0122", "text": "Joe had had enough of Karen's shit. Karen looked around frantically for somewhere to hide. `` Kids, get in the pantry,'' she said in a quavering tone. Davis and Cameron weren't fast enough. They watched as their mother's jaw was broken by an ex-marine they called `` Dad''. Blood and teeth hit the floor before she did. Suddenly, something crashed through the window above the sink, and landed on the kitchen island. It was a large candy cane. It popped off just below the curved part. Joe, who was already stunned by what he had just done to his wife and mortified by the blood spattered faces of his adopted children, looked at the tube with mortal fear in his eyes. The kids, who had been staring at their mother quietly, walked into the pantry and closed the door. Joe picked up the hollow candy cane and turned it upside down. A small scroll fell out, which he unrolled with shaky hands. `` *I'm making a list and checking it twice. * *I always find out who's naughty and nice. `` * Joe shuddered with the sudden realization that his life would be over soon. He shook out the rest of the cane's contents. A lumpy Christmas present. *'' To: Joey* *From: Santa'' * Joe ripped it open. Inside was his stocking from when he was a child. Coal spilled out onto the torn wrapping paper. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as the stocking burst into flames and churning black smoke filled the kitchen. `` Kids.. Stay in the pantry.'' He stepped over Karen's wasted frame. Her jaw was disfigured and her open mouth was leaking blood. Her eyes were still open. The sound was faint at first, then began to grow louder and louder. *'Jingle jingle jingle... Jingle jingle jingle...'* There was a shotgun above the mantel. He made his way into the living room... *'JINGLE JINGLE JINGLE JINGLE JINGLE'* But it was too late. ***CRASH!!! *** Through the window looking out to the street to the left of the fireplace crashed the first reindeer, and seven more came a hundredth of a second later, knocking over furniture and bits of the wall along the way. They filed into the hallway at immense speed, staring at Joe with glowing red eyes that would light the darkest night. ***BOOM*** Santa's", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0123", "text": "John picked up the little black cat from the street. Her head rolled limply to the side. The car that had hit her hadn ’ t been going that fast. The driver would have only heard a small thud, but the cat was undeniably dead. There wasn ’ t any blood. Surely no creature could just die without any wounds? If she wasn ’ t bleeding then she had to still be alive. John carried her inside. The cat looked exactly like Trixie, but this couldn ’ t be his pet because Trixie was an indoor cat. She ’ d never had the slightest interest in going outside. John could have left the front door permanently open and Trixie wouldn ’ t have even considered leaving. So this couldn ’ t be Trixie, no matter how similar they looked. Even though both cats had that same patch of white fur at their throats. This was just the sort of thing that Trixie would do. She was probably hiding somewhere, making him worry about her while she was napping in a closet, or on a bookshelf. He put the dead cat down carefully and went to fetch a bag of cat treats. Once Trixie heard the rattle of a bag of treats, then she would come running, no matter how fast asleep she was. John walked around the house, going into every room, calling her name and shaking the treats. Trixie didn ’ t come. He stopped, the bag frozen in his hand, as he saw the corpse again. This was Trixie. She was dead and he ’ d been an idiot to not recognise her at once. John threw the treats at the wall. Why had this happened? Why couldn ’ t drivers be more careful? People were always speeding along this road and nothing was ever done to stop them. What kind of maniac ran over a harmless cat? He ’ d kill them, if he ever found out who ’ d killed Trixie then he ’ d kill them himself. But that wouldn ’ t bring his baby back. He picked her up again, cradling her close now that he was sure it was her. In life, she never would have allowed him to hold her this tightly. She should be meowing in complaint, she should be giving him a warning scratch. “ Shh, Trixie, it ’ s ok, ” John whispered, rocking her back and forth. “ It ’ ll be ok", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0124", "text": "a dozen men. The liquid seeped and dyed the grass and dirt a dark red. Arrows and scimitars impaled all of the men. No doubt this had been a battle between two opposing forces. About half of the dead adorned armors and dark blue colors with golden trimmings while the rest were clothed in rags and dirtied robes. The limp bodies seemed to have created a path towards the center of the picture. Directly in front of Safia was a once strong and durable carriage. Its door jarred widely, exposing the contents like an open letter. Dread entered her body as she physically began to feel pain and discomfort. She had seen a dead body before since being a peasant exposed you to the world ’ s ugliest side. But the intensity and amount of gore right there, in front of her, made Safia wonder, ‘ is this worth it? ’ ‘ Yes, ’ her subconscious rapidly replied. She was intrigued. She wanted to know. Cautiously stepping away and around the bodies and approaching the carriage gave her clues. It looked like this carriage was once a part of a caravan. But, now, it would be going nowhere. Where there was supposed to be a wheel only the axle remained, splinters and wood piled on the floor. The ground showed evidence of fresh hoof prints. Maybe the horse was able to escape with its life. Finally facing the new scene inside the carriage elicited a sharp inhale. Iron reeked in the air. But the girl ’ s golden orbs only widen and watered. Who could even think to do this? A lady gazed lifelessly towards Safia. Her glazed eyes still held the fear and pain she felt in her dying moments. Her throat had a widened cut, her life ’ s essence contrasting with her pale skin. One of her hands was safeguarding the small bump that seemed to protrude from the shades of blue robes she adorned. The other loosely grasped the hand of the man next to her. The white and golden robes of the dead man were shredded and soiled. Blood still gushed from the large slash across his chest. His head lolled forward to crouch over a wooden box. His other hand held the chest in place. “ What is that, ” Safia whispered to herself while she rolled up her sleeves and tried to grab the chest from the man ’ s lap. She tugged and tugged until the treasure escaped from", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0125", "text": "doesn't remember much of one without me either. When I opened my eyes all of those years ago to silver hair flowing over my face, and the yellow mid day sun shining through the strands causing me to squint, I was afraid. The sun made her thin hair seem like strands of metal, and the first time I heard her voice I thought it was the metal strands rubbing together. Her voice is frightening, and if she could feel she would have felt my head bump into hers as I hurriedly sat up. `` Who are you?'' Was all she said. I opened my mouth to answer, and was confused when nothing came out. Who am I? `` I... don't really know.'' I managed to say, my words stumbling over each other as if I had just learned to speak. I was finding my bearings, and for some reason I didn't start to panic. I just sat there, staring at this strange girl. She couldn't have been older than 14. How old was I? `` Well how do you like the name Michael? It sticks out to me.'' She said as she sat back and crossed her legs, gently laying her hands onto her knees. It was at this moment I realized she was naked, and my stomach sunk. Looking at her almost stung my eyes, her pale skin reflected the sun better than the lake that sat twenty feet from where I had just woken up. I got angry for a second. Angry because I was confused. And just as I was about to lash out at her, a thought came into my mind. I thought that wasn't created in the last five minutes, no, something deeper than that. `` Audrey.'' I whispered. `` I don't mind that! Well Michael, call me Audrey!'' Her broken record player voice screeched. It took me a few minutes to look at her again. And a few days to be able to speak to her. It took months to respond to Michael, and it may have taken years to get used to her voice. Now, I do not know how much time has passed, but my hair touches my neck and my bare shoulders, and all that matters is the setting sun and Audrey's pale smile. A snap of a tree branch rang out from behind us, and both of our heads turned in time to see the branch hit the ground. A tall man stood there, accompanied by a few boys. `` We finally", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0126", "text": "deaths cold embrace. On top of this havoc, the judicial system was practically ruined. All the criminals locked away over the past three years are now running loose. People debating over whether or not they can be tried for something that technically hasn't happened yet and various other topics. For me, the lag could not have occurred at a worse time. You see, three years ago I was a contract killer for the local crime lords in the Western U.S. One of the best in fact. I was so good that I was able to have a fairly large house in the suburbs and my lovey wife was able to stay home, keep the house in order, and make sure my son kept his grades up. It was a happy time, my family was well supported, we were happy, and I was doing what I loved. I always thought of myself as a sort of artist of my craft, with my rifle serving as my brush. However as with any great artist, there are always critics. One particular crime lord took offense to me giving his brothers living room wall a Kurt Cobain inspired paint job and put a hit on me. However since the buffoon made it open instead of approaching a professional, I had to deal with a bunch of gun toting savages that thought they were going to make their fortune. Of course these imbeciles managed to spray my home down with some cheap pieces of shit Tec-9's. I wasn't even home. But my wife and son were. Knowing there was no way I could single handedly take on the criminal scum of Los Angeles, I turned myself into the U. S Marshalls. I offered them loads of juicy details on criminal syndicates all over the west and in return was granted amnesty and placed in witness protection. I had thought the hardest thing I would do in my life was watch my wife and son be buried. That was until the lag happened. I was having breakfast with the two when suddenly they started screeching vehemently at their waffles. At first I was confused, but as it went on the confusion was replaced with fear, and then despair, and finally a sorrowful acceptance as I went upstairs to collect my pistol and put them out of their torment. Burying them the second time was much worse than the first. Now you may have figured out why I'm fleeing Los Angeles across the hills. Well all those mob bosses I helped take down were very eager for a chance to", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0127", "text": "one that would be considered perfection. For ten years I labored, mixing my concoctions, boiling them down to the capsules to be sold, knowing by sight and smell alone if they would work. Adding ingredient's such as fresh baked apple pie, my mother's own recipe, a freshly written love note between a couple just married, or the bottled smell of salt air off the ocean coast. And finally, finally, I found the recipe, consisting of one hundred and forty four special ingredients. But just as I finished, the door of my shop opened, and a man entered- a man whose face was so wrinkled he had to be older than my dead father, and whose grey hair curled down his back. He turned his sunken eyes towards me as I removed the capsule, and spoke, his voice low and defeated. `` How much?'' `` It's not yet for sale,'' I answered, setting in on the counter. `` Name your price, and I'll pay it.'' He said, approaching me at my workstation, and leaning against the counter. So I did. And he did. And taking the capsule, he dropped it to the floor of my shop, grinding it into the stone with his heel as I shouted. `` Wait! What a waste! That pill, it bore happiness incarnate, it bore the full meaning of living! It was the perfect dream!'' `` Yes,'' Answered the old man, turning to leave, `` Yes it was. A happiness so great that it can never be attained in reality, one that will forever cast the rest of your life in shadow, knowing that it is false, yet the most real thing you can imagine.'' `` And how would you know that?'' `` Because when your father made one, thirty years ago, I took it. And ever since, I've had to live with the nightmare.'' *** Like my writing? [ Get my novel for free on kindle today/tomorrow only! ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/leoduhvinci/comments/4xyd9a/my_novel_til_death_do_us_part_is_free_right_now/ ) By Leo", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 437, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0128", "text": "thought you didn ’ t care… ” “ It ’ s just that, every day at this hour he stares at the clock and doesn ’ t look away for a few minutes. Every day Sarah. I know it ’ s weird but don ’ t you want to know why? ” “ I don ’ t care what that freak does alright. As long as he ’ s not staring at me, it ’ s none of my business. Why don ’ t you just ask him why he does it? I ’ m sure he would like such a pretty girl to go and talk to him. I mean it would be the best part of his day if... oh he just sneezed. What a dork. There ya go, clean it all up. Get your face all nice and clean for your girlfriend Jen over here ” “ Wait a minute. Sarah! Did you just see it? Sarah do you see them? ” “ What, he ’ s just wiping his nose right now. What ’ s so wired about that? ” “ Yeah, but with my tissues! ” “ What? ” “ MY BRA…Sarah my bra, the tissues I used to stuff it, they ’ re all gone. ” “ Oh my god! How ’ d he do that? Wait someone ’ s calling me. ” “ Who is it? ” “ That ’ s weird. It ’ s Frank. Hello? Hey baby I miss…oh…wait baby listen…no I was drunk and he was there…but I didn ’ t mean anything and…Frank don ’ t do this to me…babe…. He hung up. ” “ What just happened? ” “ He said he got a text from you saying I hooked up with Jake at the party. What the Hell Jen! ” “ Wait I didn ’ t send a text. ” “ Let me see your phone. See right there! 11:59! Why would you do that to me. I thought you were my friend. ” “ I didn ’ t send that. Sarah believe me. I didn ’ t send that. ” “ How can I! ” “ Just look at the clock. Its 12:02 right now. I haven ’ t touched my phone this whole time we have been talking. I ’ ve just been staring at him over there. ” “ Then how did it send? ” “ It couldn't of been. ” “ Oh look he ’ s waving over here and smiling at", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0129", "text": "from a distance. How else could your mother had caused me to elope?'' Tom was calculating every possibility, every scenario. He had thought he knew how it could have all gone, but he realised that he had been ignoring the biggest fact of all - his mother was in the wrong. She had made his father fall for her. He had been right to leave. He had been right to despise his child. His mother loved both of her Toms, but only one was truly hers. Riddle Sr's life had been damaged, all because his mother couldn't stop her infatuation. `` I'm... I'm sorry, father.'' Tom apologised. `` Don't call me that, boy,'' replied Riddle Sr. Suddenly, there was a bang at the door. `` Master Tom, are you all right?'' A guard of the house had arrived to intervene. `` I'm being held captive, break down the door!'' bellowed Riddle Sr. Tom drew his wand, prepared for the conflict. Suddenly, he heard the click of a rifle - they were planning on shooting through the door. Tom whipped his wand across himself. The gun fired. `` *Protego! *'' cried out Tom. The shield charm burst out from his wand, ricocheting the bullet away from himself. And directly into Riddle Sr's chest. `` **NO! **'' screamed Tom. The guards, having weakened the door, finally burst through. Tom turned his wand on them and cried `` *Expelliarmus! *'' The guards' guns flew away as Tom ran over to his father. Tom had only learned to defend himself, but his knowledge of healing spells were limited. He pointed his wand over the bullet wound. `` *Episk-*'' began Tom. `` No!'' bellowed Riddle Sr, knocking the wand out of Tom's grasp. `` You will live with this!'' Horrified at what his father was doing, Tom suddenly realised the guards were emerging in on him. Unable to reach his wand, Tom pointed at the guards with his finger, hoping that this would work. `` *Petrificus Totalus! *'' He felt the drain of energy as the guards suddenly stiffened, before collapsing to the ground. Tom, reached over to his wand and dragged himself back to Riddle Sr's side. As he placed his wand over the bullet wound, he noticed his father", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0130", "text": "for those that could prove useful to your work... here.'' `` And?'' Satan beamed a sarcastic smile across his desk. `` You have a lot of *erhem* product here, that looks a bit...'' Thomas looked at the desk of papers, `` disorganized.'' The devil crossed his arms and narrowed his gaze at the weathered man in front of him, `` Tommy boy,'' he growled, `` Did you just actually criticize... me?'' Thomas could hear the screams of thousands in the distance. `` No, sir,'' he swallowed hard. `` I am merely pointing out a problem that I can help provide a solution to.'' `` Out of the goodness of your own heart, huh?'' `` The easements I was requesting -'' `` Have just cost you... big time,'' Lucifer reached into a desk drawer and slowly drew out a small, black object. His left thumb pressed a black button on the side of the device. `` Miss Bathory, can you come in here please?'' `` Bathory?'' asked Waston. `` The bloody countess?'' `` Of course. Who else?'' Satan replied with a grin. `` Like the tech?'' he pointed to the walkie talkie, `` Newest technology down here. Saving us tons of time on getting messages to people. This phone has been for show for years,'' he knocked it over on the desk. A woman appeared at Thomas' side through the doorway. `` Jesus!'' Thomas yelled, startled. `` Hey!'' Satan shouted back. `` Not down here. Miss Bathory, please escort Mr. Watson to the detainment room. He has some lessons to be taught about proper respect and where exactly his boundaries lie.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 350, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0131", "text": "response in literary format. *'' Who is this? How did this file get on my computer?'' God said. * He chuckled at the joke, and moved the mouse over to close the file, when several more words appeared in the text field. *'' Finally! We've been trying to get through to you for ages!'' Langston replied. * He paused for a second. Who was on the other end? *'' Listen, you. I have lawyers. Don't think I won't track down you and your hacker friends and have you charged with cybertrespassing!'' God responded. * *'' Sorry, my lord! We don't know how we've offended you, but we mean no harm. For 2000 years people have prayed to you and the results have been like flipping a coin. We're a fringe science group who decided to see if a purpose-built machine could get our prayers through to you better. Obviously it worked!'' Langston explained. * *'' Wait, wait, wait.'' God said. `` What species are you? Shenlong? Grey? Jötunn? ” * * “ We're human. Have there been others you've had a hand in? ” Langston asked. * * “ What? No! Those are- You can't be human. I made them up for my novel series! They were like smaller, weaker Olympians! ” God told him. “ I'm an Olympian so I wrote what I knew, so sue me. ” * * “ So it was true! ” Langston gasped. “ God DID make us in his image! Although it begs the question how you could be related to the ancient Greek mythological entities. ” * * “ That was mostly world-building I did to flesh out the Greek culture. Olympian is just the word used for my race, translated into English. ” God explained. “ Speaking of which, how do you know English? I created it but never used it. The only knowledge of it is in my mind! ” * * “ You don't know about the United Kingdom? Or America? ” Langston asked. “ Have you been unable to keep watch over us for a while? ” * * “ I don't understand. It was just a book! The last words were about the'Book of Life' and how the people horrible enough to not be in its pages would be'cast into", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0132", "text": "MASH. The one with Alan Alda, not the other one, with War Machine.'' DA: `` I'm sorry, Mr. Scott I don't understand'' MS: `` He was in Hotel Rwanda.'' DA: `` Did Mr. Howard call you that night?'' MS: `` Yes.'' DA: `` And what did he say?'' MS: `` He said that he needed my help, that I was the only person he could call, that if anyone could get him out of this it would be me'' RH: `` Michael!'' MS: `` He said that best friends keep secrets and so Im keeping this secret. For you Ryan'' RH: `` Michael that's not what he-'' DA: `` Im sorry Mr. Scott, are you refusing to answer the question?'' MC: `` Yes. So crucify me if you must, but i will not betray my friend. DA: `` Mr. Scott, no one is asking for your, betrayal. We ask simply for your honest account of that evening.. Mr. Howard is accused of defecating on the mayors lawn. If he was at your house then he couldn't possibly have committed this heinous crime.'' MS: `` Oh well, yeah he came to my house. Yes, your- mmajesty'' DA:'' Thank you Mr. Scott. Defense rests.'' J:'' Prosecution, your witness'' PA `` Mr. Scott, how did Mr. Ryan seem to you when you aaw him that night? Would you describe him as less than stable?'' MS `` No, hes not clumsy'' PA `` Mentally Mr. Scott. Did he seem anxious, worried, angry?'' MS `` No more than usual. But he used to do a lot of coke'' Crowd uproars. J `` Order in the court!'' PA `` Did Mr. Howard stay at your house that night.'' MS `` Yes he slept on a fold out couch.'' PA `` He didn't leave?'' MS `` No.It was our first official sleepover.'' Pa `` The prosecution would like to show Evidence A, a vhs security tape from the night in question at a local pawn shop.'' Video shows Ryan walking in, trading in some comics for cash. MS `` You took my X-men comics and sold them!?'' RH `` Michael its a trick, they photo shopped that video'' J `` Order! Order! Defense, control your client or I will hold him in", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0133", "text": "mistake that he should never have returned to. This, of course, just made me angry as well, and I grabbed the knife from off the ground and swung it at him as hard as I could, cutting open his arm. He tackled me after that, and for a moment we wrestled. But I was a young man who'd never been in a real fight, while my father had spent a good portion of his life fighting just to survive. He wrangled away the knife and brought it down on my head, cutting open my face and leaving me on the ground screaming in pain. Through the blood and tears and sweat I could see him standing there, shaking with either rage or fear of himself. If I close my eyes I can still see him, tears in his eyes, but none of his cheeks. Years later I hunted him down, convinced that if I could close that chapter of my life, the last vestige of the me that was real, I'd be able to forge my world anew. I imagined I could leave behind the real me, and live the rest of my days in my tales. Killing your father brought be no joy, just a shallow story made up of empty words. I don't know why I never thought that my brothers would have that same rage. That same fire that lived within me and my father for so long. But here you are. Chasing after stories I've told. Stories from a man with a scar that sits for days in a pub, living vicariously through tales he can only wish were true. I'm not old, and I'm not ready to die, despite all my regrets. So think on this: if you come at me with that knife, you better kill me, because I could use another scar to explain.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 362, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0134", "text": "I only got a glimpse, but the second I saw him, I knew something was off. I got to Aaron's, and to my excitement, he was completely alright. **Number 64,814**. He wouldn't stop staring at my **1**, but he knew nothing more than I did. A helicopter flew by with loud speakers screaming to `` GET TO THE STADIUM: AVOID THE RED AT ALL COSTS.'' *Avoid the red* It buzzed through my head a million times. We packed up some clothes and headed to the stadium with no idea what to do. 29 days passed by as the green numbers got lower. I was in charge, I was number 1. The red seemed to tear a person apart, that is, if you count them as a person anymore. Every second, **1,000** people went red. It was sad watching those who had numbers in the millions go, counting down to those of us on the low end. By my calculations, I had about 81 days from the day I was chosen, until I went red. Aaron was still with me, but his time was on its way. The clock was ticking. 7 days remain. We are thinking about zoning people off, but I just can't leave him. Our day is coming and my best friend is only going to change a minute before me. Our quarantine zone is falling to pieces with the reds pounding the walls to get in. The top 10 have been meeting to eradicate the problem, but these are our friends! 3 and 8 were in a heated debate about whether to start killing them off or not. `` WHO CARES 8! They are red and they are staying that way! You remember the zoning mishap for the 39,506,000's don't you?'' `` How could anyone forget, they hadn't turned yet bu-'' `` THE REDS TORE THEM TO SHREDS! These are savages out there.'' `` We don't know if there is an end to this or no-'' `` There is an end.'' I interjected. The entire room silenced. `` We ARE the end. We all have known this since the day we saw the countdown.'' It was then when 2 stepped in. Her voice filled the room sounding like an angel, speaking the words of the devil. `` We are dying. The walls are crumbling. What is left", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0135", "text": "such an unfamiliar and uncomfortable place before. `` Where am I?'' I sputter out shortly after my name, with desperation. `` I'm not really sure, I've been here a while on my own. I call it Hell.'' `` Wh.. What did you say?'' `` I don't know, Hell, that's what I call it.'' He said, in a nonchalant tone as if he were embarrassed I didn't like his name for this place. My mind races as I try to make sense of why I'd be in Hell. I'd never really believed it were real, I'd always pushed off those types of thoughts and set my mind on other topics. Less daunting, I guess I was always curious but figured I'd have time to make sense of it eventually. My eyes scanned the terrain, flat with blowing dust blocking me from seeing any real distance. Glares of lights behind the clouds moved with the wind, but no sound followed their movement. There wasn't really a Sun, at least I couldn't see it through the rolling dust clouds. In fact, just then my thoughts were quiet enough to notice how eerily silent it was. Moments pass, and the silence is broken by him saying my name. `` Sean...'' He says with his eyes scanning my face, surely wondering what I'm looking at as there's nothing to see. `` Ye.. Yeah I. I'm in Hell? But why? What did I do?'' I asked, defeatedly. `` I was hoping you would tell me. I've been here so long, but I knew others would ever come. I just didn't know when'' He says, grim and calm. It's as if he's not surprised, or happy to have another person here. I just, am. `` Wait, how did you get here. Why have you been here alone so long. How long have you been here. Who put you here? Did you bring me here? Am I dea-'' I blurt out every question racing through my mind as fast as I can so that maybe the answers will calm me down. My brain needs an explanation to understand, to make sense of this. I wasn't a bad person, I don't belong in hell. He stops me before I can finish throwing all the questions I have at him through my teeth and answers. `` I've always been here.'' His naturally sinister tone", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 493, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0136", "text": "NEDD looked down at the rhythmic sound of wood clanging against your gargantuan cloven hoof. *sigh* what is the world coming to? That this semi-naked warrior with nothing but a wooden sword had reached his domain meant the guardians of all the lower levels had failed to prevent this nobody to pass, there was no way he could have actually bested them was there? How had this human reached the feet of the Nether Elemental Daemon of Destruction, Unspoken Shadow King of the Greater Nether Realm and Lord of all the Arcane? He went by NEDD because his given name was horrendous, but he was still the most powerful warrior bar none! He stood protecting the gate to his mistress' layer and none had ever passed him. Few ever reached his gates and those that did normally took one look, bowed before him and backed away to find a less daunting prize. The challenger took a final swing and his wooden sword staggered against his hoof. There was a mark on the armour plaiting but it looked like bits of wood ground against the chitinous plate, rather than any damage to his person. The challenger backed off and dropped the broken handle on the stone floor, littering was not something he liked but the maintenance goblins would be round later to clean up anyway so it wasn't a problem. The tiny human shuffled his pouch and withdrew another wooden sword and resumed. NEDD sighed and buried his face in his hand. This was growing tiresome. Standing from his basalt throne he paced to the other side of the room, far outpacing what an I enhanced human would be capable of. Once he reached the other side of the hall he turned and true enough the tiny human was only a third of the way to him. Deciding to humour the creature he drew drew his blade and sliced the chain holding open the door. He stood at 40m high so when the 100m wide by 50m high door fell it released a tremendous shockwave that knocked the human skidding across the floor. It stood up and looked around for it's sword. It was gone. NEDD paced across the room and hauled open a draw inset to the wall. The door was enchanted so that when it closed it would disarm challengers, anything held in their hands would be teleported to this draw. He picked through the contents and found what he was looking for. He picked up the jewel", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0137", "text": "man's soul, holding back as much and as often as he did, but only a few times did I ever find traces of strain on his charming face. Impeccable control over his facial expressions was one of his many talents. He altogether *never* lost at poker, which I always found to be one of the utterly unfair things about life with him. But then, it was how we met...... But in my dreams, I never held back. Our city was the scum of the nation. Rape, murder, hate crimes, and rampant systemic homophobia. But here, the villains of the world, the gay bashers, the corrupt politicians, the international corporations, the 1 %, they always put up a fight ( just to keep it interesting ), but behind the mask I was invulnerable to their webs of global influence. I was the champion of the people, the savior of mankind. I know, I know, big head much? But you have to understand, it was a kind of release for me. In waking life, I was a lowly cubicle worker for a soulless weapons contractor. My boss never respected my estimates and I'm positive took discrete pleasure in regularly halving my deadlines. I was overworked, underpaid, and after my commute home rarely had the energy to spend on the man that it seemed half of society thought it was a sin to let hold me. I don't mean to paint myself the disgruntled, depressed type. Actually... I had a plan.... I stirred, and Dalton was standing by the door, getting dressed. A quick glance out the window showed it was still night. My heart caught. He was always doing this. I remained quiet long enough to admire him ( I couldn't help myself ), trying to think of what to say before he went off on another of his `` midnight jogs''. I didn't get the chance. He turned over his shoulder, and my eyes were wide open. Too quickly, his face turned into a boyish grin, and he turned to me fully. `` Go back to bed, Ben,'' he whispered. `` I'm already in bed.'' I patted the empty space next to me sadly, still warm. My dark, mysterious lover just tilted his head and gave me one of his little `` boyfriend'' chuckles. `` Is your cardio really so important? Now?'' I asked. There was something in his gaze I could n", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0138", "text": "`` It's about that time sugar.'' the young waitress said to the man sitting across the marble counter from her. Laying his fork down onto the white folded napkin he inquired, `` Time for what, hopefully my check.'' he chuckled to himself. `` You havent heard of her? The lady from uptown who walks down here everday.'' she said twisting her hair, leaning on her right arm. She was referring to the humble, pile of a lady who strolled their rural town everyday. Hunching over a wooden cane, she frequented the businesses on the main drag here. At the shops, always looking and touching everything, at the restaurants ordering her food. Never touches the served meal. Barb was what everyone knew her by. `` You mean that ol' bag that drifts down these streets, with white long hair?'' pointing towards the window. `` I heard that lady used to have quite a bit of money.'' he stated. `` Ya thats her... and that's her famous rumor.'' the waitress said twisting a red gloss smeared smile. `` Oh look there she is now.'' she quickly said whispering to the man. The handle on the front door turned and pushed out, and a short statured woman, hunched over, strode slowly through the door. Wearing a red knit hat that looked homemade, her white hair curled out into tiny half-circles around the brim.She wore an emotionless face. Quietly at the counter the man begins, `` I wonder what she is gon na order today Carla?'' `` Oh, she always orders the same thing,'' stretching closer to his ear she whispers,'' A bowl of tomato soup.'' `` Tomato soup?'' his eyes widen.'' 59 cents at the grocery store, and she comes *here* and pays 4 dollars for it?'' `` That's right sugar.'' She said. `` Lem me go get her order real quick.'' She walks down the aisle to where the tired, return guest was sitting. `` What'll it be today barbie?'' pulling out her notepad and paper, already writing *tomato soup* on it. The old women cleared her throat in a dirty gust, and began to speak. `` It's so hard to choose here! Everything looks good.'' Running her finger down the page on the menu. `` Well you can have it all, if you got the money to do it.'' she jokingly said. `` Maybe if we", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0139", "text": ". Go home Friend, maybe on my next day off we can hangout. I did kind of like you for a second there.'' `` You didn't let me finish. You're right, that's why I have to do it.'' `` Come again?'' Grim asked shocked. `` You are right about everything. I can't do that but that's exactly why I have to. It's apparent by the way you talk about this job that you don't like it but you do it because someone has to. Let me reward your selflessness with my kindness. No one can repay the 250,000 years of anguish you've experienced doing your work but someone can give you a night off to just relax with a martini.'' `` Margarita.'' `` Regardless, let me give you that. Let me give you something my fa -- friend and Lou have never given you.'' `` And what's that?'' `` A thank you and a night off.'' `` There's something off about you Friend and I feel as though I may know you by a different name entirely but I'm going to take you up on that.'' `` Thank you Grim, that's all I ask.'' `` Be here at 4:00am tomorrow, the cloak and scythe will be waiting for you, however I will not. I'll be enjoying all 24 hours and not a second less.'' `` Enjoy your day off Grim.'' `` And survive yours friend.'' `` I will try'' he said with a forced laugh and a smile, trying to accept the daunting task he'd just accepted. `` I'm sure you'll be just fine. You surprised me today kid. They should call you Jesus'' Grim said with a wink as his new friend walked away. `` He knew this whole time? He didn't pressure me and he even tried to push me away to save me the agony. He truly is the most selfless of all the Eternals'' Jessy thought to himself as he walked away. `` Saint Grim'' Jessy mumbled with a laugh as he began to ascend a glowing light. EDIT: formatting", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 425, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0140", "text": "realise that everyone was gone. Or rather, nearly everybody. As I looked around, I noticed a little girl peeking at me from behind a pillar. A dainty, pretty little thing she was, with her pigtails and cotton candy pink dress. `` Have you lost your mother? Seems it's just two of us, huh?'' I croaked out, relieved that I wasn't the only one here. She shook her head, inching towards me. `` What's it you want then?'' I asked. She shook her head again, refusing to answer my question but rather sticking her hand out stubbornly, as if determined to make me follow her. `` If it makes you happy, fine,'' I sighed, taking her hand. Always had a soft spot for children, always would, I chided myself. Her petite hand was warm, despite her gossamer-thin dress. Right, she must be been cold in that. What were her parents thinking, dressing her like so on such a day? More importantly, what was she doing here? Must've been way past her bedtime. Hurriedly shuffling back to my abode, I grabbed my blanket and draped it over her. `` There, better?'' She smiled, sticking to her silence. We hobbled along, me with my creaky knees and her guiding me along with her well-oiled ones. I followed her up the steps leading out of the station, my joints protesting with every step I took. Snow blanketed the park next to the station, covering every inch of vegetation. Yet again, there was no one to be found, somehow. She stopped at a bench suddenly, smiling brightly at me and gazing at the scene in front of us. Flakes fell to the ground softly, the wind murmuring softly in my wind. Winded as I was, I could not help but sigh at the peaceful scene before me. We sat there on the bench silently. What a ironic pair we were, her spry, young body beside my ancient, wrinkled shell. Yet I could not remember feeling such happiness as this, ever in my life. As we sat there, letting the snow gently caress our faces, I felt my lids begin to droop. Perhaps I'd take a short nap, hopefully everything would return to normal when I woke up. I closed my eyes, beginning to drift away...", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 490, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0141", "text": "*Edit: Doing as /u/packos130 and putting the prompt after so to not spoil the story. * `` I can hear you trying to sneak by.'' For a moment Phil thought he got lucky. His bosses chair was turned around, facing the window. He figured he could tip-toe past his bosses office undetected so he could meet his girlfriend for lunch fifteen minutes early. `` I.. I'm sorry Mr. Crawford.'' Phil stammered. Mr. Crawford spun his fully adjustable leather chair around, revealing steepled fingers and a sly, closed-lip smile. Mr. Crawford had been given a nickname for his strict deadlines, unforgiving adherence for reprimand, and the general super-villain-esque way he carried himself around the office. They called him `` Doctor Doom.'' Just like the comic book villain. At some point it became abbreviated to just `` Doom.'' Doom sniffed the air and gave a quick glance over Phil's blatantly guilty and unnerved posture. He then stared Phil in the eyes, and his grin got slightly larger. `` That's the same atrocious tie you wore last time you tried to sneak out early.'' Doom spoke with his usual confident and nonfluctuating tone. His mild southern accent would be a great voice for radio, had he not inspired so much conditioned terror in his conversational counterparts. `` Tell me, where is it this time? Banking errand? You want to beat the Friday lunch lines? Hmm... No. Fidgety Phil, you've been working on the Wilson account all morning, a big account NO? Normally your nervous little fingers would have plied patterns in your miserable excuse of an'Ivy league' crew. But no, your hair is styled, styled like you spent office time fixing it in the washroom, yes? And that smell, you wreak of bathtub cologne, and your Walmart brand shoes are shined for once; tell me, did you tip our poor shoe-shining Joe this morning, or did you stiff him, like you're about to stiff me out of 15 minutes so you can make it your date on time?'' `` I.. I was going to stay 15 minutes late at the end of the day s-sir. My girlfriend told me that she was having a rough day, sir.'' Phil's put his hands in his pockets and submissively stared at the ground. `` Yes. I'm sure you will stay late tonight...", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0142", "text": "God is n't the almighty, not a being of supreme power like great legends portray. His posture is poor, he keeps his hair short, he's pale and skinny. Nothing like the colossal being depicted in great works of art. His bones are glass; he is hollow, he is weak. Our leader, the creator of all things, he is feeble. We are more powerful than he is, now. He tells me of how he got this way. Once, yes, he was capable of striking fear in those who worshipped him. He was strong, he was charming, he was in charge. But not enough worship him to keep him in such a state. Those who call themselves Christians know nothing of his intentions for earth; they weaken him with their sin. God is a husk of what he once was. He is a flower left in the desert. He is nothing at all. He tries to respond to prayers, but so few are worthy of his glorious gifts. The Pope is one of the few he believes are still faithful to him, his prayers are listened to. All leaders of his faith prior spewed lies, led his cherished people to scorn others and condemn those who are different. God does n't approve of that. Francis understands. He has love in his heart for all things, he tries to steer his followers to the right path. Francis will get a spot by his side in Heaven. The Lord is old. His bones creek when he walks, his chairs never get a chance to breathe. No one around him seems to care much for him. They let him rot, they let him watch his beautiful world, the one he worked so hard to create, go to waste. His biggest mistake was putting people on it. His creation was so grand, his biggest success. Now it's polluted, dirty. He's ashamed of it. God does not consider him to be in power anymore. He handles nothing by himself. It's those that he has created that he leaves in charge. He just hopes that his children know the right direction to follow. He's too tired to help them anymore.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 431, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0143", "text": "must be some kind of rules against bad luck up here. ” Slowly sitting up, James was a little surprised to notice his leg was quite sore, not to mention still soaking wet, two things he figured should have been resolved during his trip to heaven. Then he noticed the car. An old pickup, rusting around the edges. The grating on the front was slightly crooked as though it had spent much time in contact with other cars. And the tires… both of the front tires were blown out, completely shredded leaving little more than bare metal. Then there was the girl. It seemed the floating face was connected to a form after all. She was lying down on the hood of the car, chin resting on her hands staring at James. “ Uh what ’ s going on? ” James asked the girl. “ Thought you mighta been hurt so I stuck around and made sure you were ok ” The voice sounded almost singsong to James, though he wasn ’ t sure that his ears were in full working order just yet. He looked around but saw no one else on the road, no sign that she had called an ambulance or anything. “ er, uh, ok I guess I ’ m fine. Is that your car? ” Again regarding the grill of the car James notice that it was so close to the puddle in which he had fallen that the front had actually gotten a little bit damp due to backsplash. “ Sure is, guess it ’ s a good thing she got those blowouts when she did, other might ’ ave been you who was flat. ” At this she gave a small giggle and rolled off the hood of the car to give James a hand up. As he stood James wondered how it was that she could be so nonchalant about almost having killed him. He had planned to tell her off but she seemed so happy that it contaminated his thoughts and he let it drop. With James leaning on his new companion/almost killer for support they made their way over to the far side of the road before collapsing on top of a small mound of dirt and grass in front of a small hedge. James, exhausted, leaned back but found no branch to support his weight and went backwards into the scratchy hedge getting a face full of leaves and branches in the process. Exasperated, and now mildly embarrassed, he pulled himself out horizontally and sat back up, all the while spitting out leaves he had somehow managed to get in his", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0144", "text": "by Americans. Those guys in suits, working for all those three-acronym agencies, they do a lot more shit than us. Why else would they pardon crimes from 1999 to 2001?'' Nolan licked his lips and didn't answer, jotting furiously. Smirking, I leaned back. `` Besides, when you confess, you get a reputation. Respect. No, not from local shrimps. The big players. 2001 was a pretty great year for me. Sold a lot of intel to foreign players.'' `` You didn't confess that,'' Nolan said. `` Off the record, please.'' I drained my cup of coffee and looked at my watch. `` Well, the biggest one was still 2012, of course. I believe you wrote the article.'Crime lord comes clean; biggest theft of the century'.'' `` Man, those banks and financial institutions just don't get it, do they? It's the information age! Security first; efficiency and whatnot second. Twenty billion. Twenty and frickin' loads of zeroes. That's what they get for underestimating Chinese tech.'' Nolan nodded and flipped a page. `` Let's move to the big question, shall we? You're making a confession tomorrow for 2015; care to give me the scoop?'' I grinned. `` How about a riddle? The Vietnamese ambassador. Fourteen train carriages. Can't be giving you everything, right? You a journalist, do some research. Texan governor. The four judges. The Syrian massacre.'' Nolan gulped. `` I... I guess I have some reading to do.'' `` Sure you do. Well, I think we'll be seeing each other in court tomorrow.'' We stood and shook hands. As I turned to leave, a young man whose face was full of piercings came up to me. `` You Mr. Clay?'' I nodded. He pushed a gun into my chest and opened fire. There was screaming, and a lot of people running, but I couldn't turn my head much from the floor. The boy backed away as Nolan crouched beside me. `` There's a reason why roaches don't show themselves,'' he said softly. `` Because, eventually, all pests meet the same end. You're a big man, Mr. Clay, but too arrogant for your own good. Just because the government wouldn't touch you,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 493, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0145", "text": "In the middle of the Armenian forest, there was a den of wolves who had thrived for centuries preying on the young boys of a nearby village. They had been kidnapping young boys and infants so effectively that the villagers made it their tradition to sacrifice whomever was taken. Hunting parties came and went but the den was never found, and the wolves found themselves never hungry. But then came a time of sudden famine. For the wolves found out, the young boys would move to other places outside their village. Young men were too big to try to abduct, and the wolves were chivalrous - they would never eat a woman. Woofs was a young wolf who had decided to one day play a trick on the den when he howled `` BOYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!''. Several of the elder members growled as they came outside, only to find that no such boy existed. `` It was a joke,'' Woofs explained, somewhat pleased with himself, `` I just wanted to have some fun with you guys.'' `` Woofs,'' Barks, the oldest council-wolf looked at him solemnly, `` This is a time of hunger - our bravest warriors have not yet return from their scouting mission, and I'm afraid that without any boys to feast on, we shall surely perish.'' Woofs hung his head in shame and nodded. `` Sorry sir.'' ____________________________________________________ It was several moons later when one of the warriors returned. A meeting was put together immediately as the warrior was questioned. `` What happened?'' Barks demanded. `` T-t-the humans,'' the warrior panted, `` T-t-they have evolved their own society! They have something called technology and the'Internet'! Human rarely leave their dens nowadays!'' `` What are you saying?'' Barks had dread in his eyes, `` Surely the boys of humans must go out and play sometime?'' The warrior shook his head. `` No m'lord. They're on these colorful rocks on something they call the Facebook.'' Several of the other wolves muttered among them as Barks slowly acknowledged what he was hearing. `` If what you say is true, this is disastrous.'' He looked at the warrior and towards the other den members, `` We must not lose hope! We will surely find some boys to feast on soon!'' ________________________________________________________________ The news of the boys not leaving their homes had traveled quick among the pack. Woofs looked grudgingly at solemn mood", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0146", "text": "pleasure and applause of the men standing there. After a few seconds they stopped and the men went into the kitchen. “ Another time, perhaps without these pesky men, ” Jenna whispered seductively. Monica was going to tell her no, but then Bill came out and suddenly that fire, that passion for Jenna, burned in her again. She smiled a wicked smile and gave Jenna a wink. As Casey and Monica said goodbye, walking back to Casey ’ s car, a large man ran up and hit Casey straight in the jaw. He kept hitting him. “ Stop! ” Monica yelled, not realizing that was Ben, her exboyfriend. “ We ’ re best friends, how could you? ” Ben yelled. “ Sorry, I guess? ” Casey said. “ Come on, you don ’ t care that much, do you? ” “ I just wanted to beat you up I guess, ” Ben said. As he walked away, Monica was left speechless. In fact, she didn ’ t say anything all the way back to Casey ’ s house. He definitely had some weird friends. She still found herself thinking about Jenna, even though she would be marrying Casey in only a week. As they walked up to the front door, a man was laid back against it, snoring. “ Dan, wake up you lazy ass! ” Casey shouted. The man stirred, then slowly extended a hand to Monica. “ Dan ’ s the name, ” he said. “ Sorry about being late. I guess I ’ ll get going now. ” Dan got up and slowly staggered his way away from the house. He practically seemed drunk. “ There ’ s one last thing, ” Casey said as they settled in bed. “ What? ” Monica asked, thoughts of Jenna running through her mind. It took her a second to see the flames radiating from Casey ’ s side of the bed. She let out a large scream as she saw him, deformed with red skin, horns sticking out of his head. “ Honey, ” he said in a deep, demonic voice. “ I ’ m horny. ” -361", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 434, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0147", "text": "leave their dens nowadays!'' `` What are you saying?'' Barks had dread in his eyes, `` Surely the boys of humans must go out and play sometime?'' The warrior shook his head. `` No m'lord. They're on these colorful rocks on something they call the Facebook.'' Several of the other wolves muttered among them as Barks slowly acknowledged what he was hearing. `` If what you say is true, this is disastrous.'' He looked at the warrior and towards the other den members, `` We must not lose hope! We will surely find some boys to feast on soon!'' ________________________________________________________________ The news of the boys not leaving their homes had traveled quick among the pack. Woofs looked grudgingly at solemn mood and then remembered the trick he had played before that made everyone riled up. `` Anything is better than this,'' he muttered before he drew in a large breath. `` BOYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!'' The wolves came scurrying out, panting with their tongues touching the ground. Noses sniffed the air as Barks emerged from the pack. `` What is going on here?'' `` Woofs just lied again!'' one of the wolves shouted. `` There is no boy!'' The pack was starting to get riled up. The wolves began growling at Woofs as he slowly backed up. `` Whoa whoa whoa,'' he stammered, `` I'm trying to help us out here.'' `` Woofs,'' Barks looked at him with a heavy face, `` You are not permitted to sleep in the den tonight. Tonight, you shall scavenge for food.'' `` Aww, do I have to?'' Woofs had never really gone scouting on his own before, `` This sucks.'' `` Go now!'' Barks commanded, `` Or before I give you a real reason to howl about.'' Woofs quickly left the site and had been traveling for several minutes when his thoughts managed to catch up with him. *This is unbelievable, I try to lighten the mood up and this happens. * *I'm literally taking one for the team. * *That damn old man needs to get off my-* He heard the sound of footsteps. He quickly slunk back into a bush as the footsteps approached. What could it be? He was answered as several plump animals walked out into the area with very large tummies and seemed to have a lost look in their", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0148", "text": "to talk to him. It didn't take long for one sub on Reddit to dox him, for which the sub was banned, but after which Nyarlathotep couldn't even find sanctuary in his own home. Rather, in the basement of his dad Azathoth's house. Ethics have played no role in Nyarlathotep's decision-making, and he has been spotted with what appear to be roofies and ecstasy pills he uses for extra advantage with the ladies for when begging fails him. In other words, every time. `` I'd love to hang with you guys again,'' one girl was heard to say while leaving a party Nyarlathotep was attending, and where he had stared at her most of the night without ever approaching her. `` Next weekend, sure,'' she added. At this Nyarlathotep told a fellow party goer, `` Dude she totally wants to get with me.'' `` I'll come, but please make sure that creepy Nyarlathotep is not there. I hate that guy. Who names their kid Nyarlathotep anyway?'' Nyarlathotep -- who has since been insisting everyone call him Ian -- fled that party in tears. The news media has been relentless trying to connect Nyarlath... er, Ian... to Great Cthulhu beyond the known fact that they are distant relatives. When asked for comment, Cthulhu would only say, `` I am Great Cthulhu! Now people are calling me Mediocre Cthulhu thanks mostly to that damned Nyarlathotep. I refuse to call him Ian. That's just a phase, like when he decided he was allergic to gluten even though he never tried wheat products anyway.'' Cthulhu -- who has been caught misspelling his own name on some official documents -- is organizing more madness and chaos as best he can. In the tide pools, one can find octopi waving their tentacles about maniacally for a while, to the great entertainment of onlookers. Most octopi only stay at it a couple hours before swimming off, bored, considering taking up work as a sign spinner instead. As a result, the manic tentacle wigglers and the crowds gathering to watch the chaos and madness have all declined in number dramatically since Cthulhu's return. Cthulhu's most loyal followers have consulted reputable texts to learn where it all went wrong.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0149", "text": "Before I had a chance the young man pushed his way passed, his strength overpowering me, pushing me to ground. `` You aren't authorised to leave! You need to come back or I'll call the police!'' Shouted the nursed clearly distressed. I regained my breath and stood up preparing to give chase, knowing an escaped patient would likely be the end of my career. I ran through the damp dreary alley way towards the bus stop on the corner of the street. The man, despite suffering from an illness had far more stamina than myself as he slowly gained a greater lead. My luck turned when a passing peace officer noticed the scuffle and pulled his vehicle in front of the young man. Just like that it was over. The man was no match for the strength of a government officer. He was wrestled the ground with a boot pressed into his face. `` He one of yours?'' The the officer asked sternly. I looked down at the man and I felt something I hadn't felt in years. Empathy. This man wasn't the tyrant government propaganda portrayed the sick as. He was somebodies brother, husband and son. `` He... is a friend of mine. We just had a little disagreement.'' I lied. I couldn't let this man be imprisoned and likely tortured to save my own ass. `` We'll get your friend back inside I can't have people running around thee streets like that.'' The office loosened his grip and nudged the mans limp body towards the kerb. As the officer left the man looked up at me. `` Why did you do that? You could have ended up in jail?'' `` I can help you... I can't keep living this way'' I stammered. `` Help me what? Escape?'' He replied. `` No I can help save you, we have the medicine. I know it's breaking the law but someone needs to make changes. It wasn't always this way.'' `` You mean you can actually cure me? I don't have to die?'' Hope filled his eyes, his face lit up with an almost cautious joy. `` Doctors used to be healers. Believe me... there was a reason I choose this profession and it wasn't to end lives... there was once a time where we saved them'' I grabbed the mans hand and slowly walked him back to the office. `` You will have to come with", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 491, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0150", "text": "into the room, through the door silently. Thomas followed, half terrified, half curious. `` There, there honey,'' the woman said as the baby cried, `` it's okay. I know. I know.'' The baby's whines soon disappeared as she held the now sleeping child in her arms. And for the first time, Thomas saw the eyes of Death. They were green. A very normal but bright green. `` So far away from me. It's beautiful, isn't it?'' He said as part of the shadow of his face seemed to contort in what Thomas could only assume was a smile. Thomas replied, `` Yeah. Yeah it's beautiful.'' They sat there in silence for a while until finally, Death turned to Thomas and said, `` Well Thomas, it's been nice but you need to get back to your body before someone higher up, or down low for that matter, notices. It's been nice talking. Maybe I'll see you again, outside of work, I mean.'' ______ And with that, Thomas awoke the next day feeling oddly fulfilled from that strange, vivid dream he had. _____ Edit: Man, everyone loves my Death! I'm thinking I should write more about him! Edit 2: I decided to make a subreddit to post my stories in, since reddit has a nice format for what I want to do. http: //www.reddit.com/r/lifeofdeath Feel free to check it out! I'll be writing more soon!", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 302, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0151", "text": "The bar was quiet when Josh walked in.'How long had it been since I was last here?' He thought to himself as he crossed the floor toward the corner stage. The bar's patron sat on a stool on that stage, softly playing [ an old song ] ( https: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=YYsnRc09csQ ) on his harmonica. Josh waited for the slow, mournful blues tune to end. Josh clapped as the other gentlemen stood and bowed. `` So nice to see you,'' He said to Josh with a twinge of bitterness in his voice. `` so few come by nowadays.'' Josh winced slightly at the statement; not because of it's vindictive nature, but at the barely disguised pain he heard behind the bitterness. `` Care for a drink, Scratch?'' Josh asked, using one of the more playful nicknames for the establishment's owner. Scratch agreed. An eternity seemed to pass. Considering the circumstances, an eternity probably *did* pass. Finally, Scratch asked the important question; `` Why did you do it, kid?'' `` I think you already know.'' Josh responded. `` You know, as well as I do, that they don't deserve it. You and your dad will regret this decision.'' Scratch said. `` I doubt it. But then again, I've always had more faith in them than most.'' Josh replied. The room grew silent again. `` So, what are you *really* here for? Your job is done, why come back?'' Scratch asked suddenly. Josh took a breath, then spoke, `` It's a job offer. We want you back with us. You'll be working with people again, and it would be a big improvement over an empty dive. Come and work for the good guys, Cypher.'' Josh used a new name for the old musician, based closely on Scratch's original title, just like'Josh' was an approximation of his own original name. `` I appreciate the offer, kid, but no thanks.'' Josh was confused at the answer, but accepted it as always. `` Why?'' he asked. `` As one of our favorite writers once said,'T is better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heaven.'' Scratch replied. Josh chuckled at that. `` Well, if you ever change your mind, you know the way.'' With that, he walked out the door. It creaked as it closed behind him", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0152", "text": "The committee of aliens stood before our own respective committee of UN ambassadors. They were each around eight feet tall, and the yellow pupils of what appeared to be their seven eyes stared at us intently. They began to speak in a low mumbling sound, and our translator who has worked to understand their language began to relay the message. Keep in mind this was the second of the peace talks. `` We are prepared to make peace with your people. Significant time has passed, and there is no reason for further hostilities. We admit that we are held back somewhat by our culture. For seven generations we have built up a deep hatred of humankind, but we hope we can stop that with enough time.'' I interjected. `` But wait, you said in our first peace talks four weeks ago that you were previously unaware of our existence!'' Our translator expressed my words, and was soon met with a response from the aliens representative. `` Yes, exactly. Four weeks. Seven generations.'' I looked at the translator in confusion. `` Are you sure you're translating this correctly?'' The translator got a nervous look in his eyes. `` Actually, I do n't know this language at all. I'm just faking it.'' `` WHAT?!'' The entire UN committee was in uproar. `` Who hired this guy?'' One short man with thick glasses stepped forward. `` I... I hired him.'' `` Why?'' `` Well, he had the credentials as a good translator. They even used him at Nelson Mandela's funeral to translate into sign language!'' Again, the UN committee burst into uproar. Unfortunately, the aliens took this as a sign that we wanted to continue war. They took out their weapons and ran into the uproar themselves. And that, class, is how I, your professor, wound up being the only survivor in the Great Manvlirian Peace Talks Massacre of 2025. All due to one idiot and one bigger idiot. Class dismissed.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 402, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0153", "text": "This is what i wrote so far. I didn't realize how long it was until I stopped and read some. If you want me to continue let me know. I never much had a taste for flying. Almost like a long Cuban cigar which I find harsh and unpleasant yet, some love the taste and “ texture ” of the thick smoke rolling off the tongue. Much like flying in a way, some love flying, or just don ’ t mind it, while others loath the very slightest of plane rides. I myself always find a nervous pit in my stomach form when it comes to booking the tickets, checking the bags, and boarding the flight. That small sudden ping of anxiety the moment the flight attendant fakes the over exaggerated hello and the captain gives his pre-flight speech to prepare the individuals partaking on the flight and giving them all the particulates. Today was no different as I boarded the flight I got the same pang of anxious, stomach churn and took my seat. 3-B, window seat, I guess I couldn ’ t be upset for I enjoy the flying sensation, staring downward at the miniscule landscape, with that brief understanding of the perspective of god In way, or for those who don ’ t believe in the big omnipotent man upstairs, at least a bird. 3-B, window seat, for some reason my mind wanted to repeat it as if some form of a sequence, maybe I should have had some more damn coffee this morning waiting at the O ’ Hare lounge. Plus, the barista there was a looker, even though she always seems to get some grounds in your coffee, but nobody is perfect. Tilting back my tray the flight attendant brought me over the pretzels and prune juice I asked for as I set my travel pillow behind my head. Shoving my Memorex ear phones, connected with my iPod, I nestled in to the ever so fraudulently comfortable airplane seats and drifter away, suddenly envious of the 1st class fliers with their bed-like seat structure. Dreams, so vivid it felt like they weren ’ t just actual life, but a part of my soul, crashing through my mind as if they were freight trains without the hindrance of brakes. The dreams came in the forms of odd, slow, and jumbled images. The images twisted around as if imitating an owl ’ s head movement were blurring by my vision, Twisted images all indistinguishable yet,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0154", "text": "looked up at me, shook its deathlike head, and mumbled something. `` Slacker'' I was surrounded by these drones. There is no other word for their existance. They were things that existed for the sole purpose of making the corporation live. And we were dying. Entire lives dedicated to filing papers. Sacrificing our very lives for the sake of a company. We as a society may have passed ritual sacrifice, but human sacrifice was plain as the nose on my face. I stood up, and looked at my hands. They were as skeletal as the rest of the drones. I walked away from my desk. I heard a few gasps. I strode away further, and there came shouts. I began to run, and the floor began crumbling behind me. I ran a million miles. And as I neared the exit, I felt rejuvenated. I felt the muscles regrow. I sprinted faster. I broke out the front door and looked at the majestic world around me. It wasn't. I had broken out of a toe of a giant. A diseased, pus covered, drooling behemoth. It was eating handfuls of earth, consuming everything in its path. And there wasnt one. There were thousands of these giants. Each holding its own territory, some battling each other. I looked at the world and what we had become. Humans weren't the ultimate lifeform of the universe. Corporations were. They were the apex predator. They consumed every single human life. We were the creators. We were the prey. They say nothing in a dream is real. That nothing in a dream comes true. This was just a dream. But this is also our reality.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 349, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0155", "text": "my dear mermaids you are children's toys.'' `` Children have interest,'' the old mermaid replied. `` About a quarter century ago we had several good years. I began to find dolls and toys in the sewage near people that showed a red haired mermaid.'' `` But only for a while. You know soon after that it was lions or some other nonsense.'' `` Then..'' the younger mermaid began her thought, but paused. The elderly mermaid smiled to her and nodded for her to continue. The siren looked interested. Ari turned to the oceanids and nereids- it had been something they had said earlier that day that now came back to her. `` Then perhaps we must do what our ancestors did,'' Ari said. `` We come up to the surface, to the isles, up the deep rivers because we had to get to the people. Now they have other ways of transport, but water is important to us all. We must simply find other places to dwell.'' `` Yes!'' a nereid added. `` My cousin, she went to the beaches and then amid the people and their buildings when my young brother became sick. She found small ponds with no fish or plants, but where many people would go to play. It was close to home, so at night she could return, but during the day she enticed two young men into such a frenzy they fought for her in the deep end and drowned! My brother's fever broke and he is now well because of their deaths and fear.'' `` Exactly!'' Ari gestured to the other young woman. `` We have to go to them, make ourselves known.'' `` It could work,'' the elderly mermaid said. `` We did always see who could go closest, and the one who brought someone in from the land would win. But lately such games have not been on our minds with the bad times.'' `` We just have to make sure they know it is us, and not something silly like sharks.'' Now inspired, the group began making plans for their emigration onto land and the shallow waters. The young people, those who were healthy and could take the shape of humans, would slowly begin to the move to the fresh waters and those lakes and ponds that did not return to the ocean. The occasional drowning would be a good start, and as they settled into their new homes they could connect with that new part of the world. Surely a lake, even a pool or a fountain,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0156", "text": "I love you.'' Kate nodded and wiped her nose with the back of her hand, blinking at the ground in front of her. `` I should call my mom to say goodbye.'' She choked on the last word. Tyler glanced at his own phone as she stood up. She tugged at her shorts and walked uneasily out of the room, preparing to make her final phone call. Tyler's phone immediately started buzzing, his own mother calling. He answered. `` Hi, Mom.'' `` Baby,'' she responded, her voice more cheerful than he expected, `` Has it happened there yet?'' He furrowed his eyebrows, `` What? The solar flare? Obviously not...'' `` No, no. The sunscreen!'' `` The what?'' She beamed and he could hear the smile in her voice, `` The sunscreen! I'm glowing!'' He shook his head, his mind becoming frantic and confused, `` Mom, slow down. What are you talking about?'' She inhaled and then exhaled deeply, `` They're calling it sunscreen. Apparently every living organism is equipped with a protective shield that is triggered when a solar flare is impending. Who knew?'' His mouth hung open for a moment as he processed his mother's words. `` That's... ridiculous. Mom, I know you're upset, but it's okay. I love you and this was going to happen at some point in our lives --'' `` No,'' she insisted, `` It's all over Mexico. Everything is glowing!'' `` That's insane.'' `` Honey,'' she continued, `` Scientists are as dumbfounded as you are right now, but it's true. They expect it to spread across the globe within the next hour.'' He glanced down at his arm and noticed a warmth rising out of it that he didn't see before. `` What the...'' `` Is it happening?'' she laughed through the phone's speaker. Just then, Kate bolted into the room, a wide smile on her face and a yellow glow emitting from her skin. Tyler looked at her, his expression full of amazement. Not removing his eyes from her, he said, `` Yes, Mom. Can you hold on?'' He slowly put the phone down and stood up, approaching his girlfriend. They smiled at each other for a moment and then he picked her up in a tight hug. She giggled, `` We're going to be okay!'' He laughed joyfully at", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0157", "text": "A dust cloud is rising in the air behind me as my old ford grumbles loudly down the familiar driveway. I can feel my stomach clenching up, my mind torn over what I was about to do. It was two o'clock. She should be gone to see Aunt Pearl at the old folks home, like she always did after church on Sunday. `` Just have to hope her habits haven't changed since we last spoke,'' I thought nervously. I reach the end of the drive, and I can here the wind chimes on the front porch tinkling through my open window of my truck. My stomach clenches up again, a mixture of guilt and need this time. I can feel small beads of sweat trickling down my back. As I step out of the truck, the warm breeze blows through my shirt and cools me. Suddenly I'm 20 years younger, sweaty and out of breath, playing in the yard like I did everyday when I was a kid, breeze blowing through my shirt and cooling me down. I can still see her, younger too, out in the back, hanging laundry on the line and telling me to stay out of the neighbor's yard. The memory fades and I feel shame. I know that there is only one thing that's gon na make that feeling go away. One thing that's gon na make all the feelings go away, and for a little while I will be at peace. I just have to get up enough cash to get it. It is time for me to do what I came here for. I'm going to get in, get that pocket watch that I know is sitting in her jewelry box on the dresser, and get out. I keep telling myself, `` Just do it, and don't look back.'' I go around to the back door, and it's locked. I'm pretty sure my key won't fit anymore, given how our last discussion went. I pull the screen door open without hardly an ounce of resistance, and break out the smallest pane of glass closest to the door knob to unlock it from the inside. I push the wooden door open and step onto the kitchen floor. The linoleum is shinning bright in the sun, and it smells like pine sol. She always did scrub that floor on Sunday mornings. I can hear her voice echoing in my head,'' Cleanliness is next to Godliness.'' I start to walk back towards the bedroom, but stop. The dust", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0158", "text": "Steel bars rolled back, clanging as they passed some unseen turnstile recessed into the wall. The white-washed corridor was filled with individuals arrayed in solemn gray tones. They stood opposite a gap in the white concrete; steel tracks led out of the gap, on which a stretcher slowly proceeded. Once fully clear of the wall, it tipped forward, revealing my body strapped to the metal trolley. “ Prisoner A-50984, Mr. Farris… After having served your sentence, you are being released. Would all in attendance please note that all prior recommendations for Farris ’ continued detention have been dismissed due to the dissolved state of any and all incarceration facilities. Upon the release of Prisoner A-50984, Carpa Mental Institution will begin all prescribed procedures for its immediate shutdown and demolition. ” Two guards stepped forward, unlatching the locks that held my restraints in place. Two more grabbed my atrophied body, walking me past the row of onlooking prison professionals to an unfriendly looking door, behind which they washed me down and clothed me in attire similar to their own. A Magistrate was waiting for me outside of the wash room. “ You ’ ve been freed on a technicality, ” she said, her lip curling in disgust. “ Know that you ’ ll be under 24 hour surveillance; we ’ ll know every detail of your life, down to when you take a shit inside whatever rundown apartment you find for lease. ” I stared back at her, silent, ungiving. I was marched up the corridor to a similarly white-washed office space, where I signed a few documents and told I was free to go. Stepping out of the door, I heard the Magistrate call after me. “ Don ’ t forget; we ’ re watching. ” Outside, the world was foreign. The cityscape was strangely mute, cars silently gliding past in the skylanes, the sun sinking behind crystalline superstructures. *How long had I been incarcerated? * I recognized none of it. Looking over my shoulder at the doors I had just exited, I felt my heart rate increase, panic sinking in. *No, calm down. * I took a deep breath and regulated my breathing; I just stood there. Unsure of where to go or how to proceed, I stood suspended in time. I stood and stared blankly at the city and just thought for a very long time.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0159", "text": "'t even recognize him. And they shot him. Right in the back of the head, just like that. People thought twice about swearing after that. Too risky. Man, you ever tried getting busy with a girl without being able to swear? `` Gee, I love your breasts!'' `` Go on, touch my erect penis!'' It's fuckin' impossible. You sound like a 12-year-old. Speaking of which, the market for the cut stuff has exploded. I know guys that got rich off of `` a $ $'' and `` f @ gget''. You couldn't sell them fast enough! Dropping a `` g'' of the end of `` fucking'' cuts the price in half. Take out a c? It's basically affordable! Not that it's worth it - if you're gon na swear, do it right. The hard stuff isn't gone either - it's just expensive. A buddy of mine sold a `` pussy'' to this elderly couple. 50th wedding anniversary and they just wanted one `` pussy''. Cost the guy about 3 months of his pension, he said. That almost broke my heart when I heard it. My buddy's, too, but business is business, and business is good. If I ever read this aloud, it would cost me more than I've made in my life. Not that it would get that far - I'd be dead after the first sentence. Which is why I'll never read this aloud. I've thought long and hard about where would be best to leave this, and I've decided on Moby Dick, stuck in the back, in a high school library. Nobody reads Moby Dick. And even if they do, fuckin' NOBODY reads all of it. The irony of the title isn't lost on me either. So to the person that finds this, if it's found, I hope yours is a world with profanity. I hope you can walk up to your best friend and call him a `` fucking cunt'' just because it's Tuesday. I hope you can criticize the government by saying the President sucks donkey dick. But remember my words, kid. Because a world with expletives isn't a given - and I've seen better men than you give every last fuck they had to fight for it.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 469, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0160", "text": "at once!'' `` I don't think you want to waste your last wish,'' Genie said in singsong. Abdul clenched his teeth and growled. `` Fine you miserable, disgusting, filthy, sinful, swine! Here is my last wish: I want a legion of the most loyal ISIS soldiers!'' Now Abdul would have his revenge by taking his newly formed legion and wiping out anyone who stood in his way. `` Are you sure you want that?'' Genie asked. `` Yes.'' `` Are you really sure you want that?'' `` Yes!'' `` Are you really really really sure you want to use those wor-'' `` YES! YES! YES! I know what I want you disgusting subhuman creature! Now make it happen, now!'' Abdul stomped the ground on the last words. `` Okay, here you go,'' Genie snapped his fingers, `` an entire legion of the most loyal ISIS soldiers!'' The desert before Abdul was filled with soldiers dressed in ISIS uniform. Abdul had him beat. He laughed as his stood on his almost broken ankles and raised his fist to his new army. `` Allahu Akbar!'' The soldiers in his army removed their coats and raised their fists high in the air. Abdul saw that they were holding something in their hands. When he realized what they were, his heart sank and a cold chill washed down his spine. `` Wha-'' `` What's wrong, Abe?'' Genie asked. `` This is what you asked for, right? A legion of the most loyal ISIS soldiers ready to die for the glory of Allah.'' Genie looked at the horrified expression on Abdul's face and felt satisfied on another job well done. `` Ohhh I'm so sorry it looks like your wish limit has been exhausted,'' Genie said as he printed out an incredibly long receipt. `` Here's my bill sorry I couldn't stay longer and you have a nice day. Bye!'' With that he disappeared back into his lamp in a cloud of blue smoke. The legion of soldiers let out their battle cry, `` Allahu Akbar!'' and detonated the vests on their bodies destroying themselves, Abdul, and a large piece of desert just outside the city. Edit: a question mark.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 460, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0161", "text": "“ I DON ’ T KNOW! ” she yells it, and together they freeze, surprised by her audacity; she is rarely so loud. She has rounded on him and he can only stare, and when he raises his hands as if to calm her she flinches away like she ’ s been burned: she doesn ’ t want this. She doesn ’ t want to be the wounded animal. She has never liked being the wounded animal. “ Okay?! Sometimes I can ’ t -- sometimes I don ’ t even know what my name is, and then you come in, and I look at you, and I -- ” and she feels this thing in her chest that **TERRIFIES** her because they have never met. They have NEVER met, because she would remember. If her heart would just *SHUT UP* she would be able to tell it that she would remember. A nurse pokes her head in through the door and he waves her away, and the nurse takes his word for it without even a moment ’ s hesitation, and she lets out a shakey little breath of disbelief and runs a hand through her hair. Even the nurses think he ’ s important. Even she thinks he ’ s important. “ Sweetheart, ” he says. His voice is like silk. It slips, like silk, through the cracks in her mind, and pools somewhere at the bottom, in the dark and the black and the pile of things she does not remember. That pool is growing so big now. It ’ s closing in on her. There are so many things she does not remember. “ It ’ s okay. You need to calm -- ” “ You don ’ t know what I need. ” He takes it like a physical affront, and when he looks at her like that her mouth runs so dry she has to swallow to keep from -- well, she isn ’ t going to cry, because he doesn ’ t know. She doesn ’ t know and he doesn ’ t know and they are strangers. They are strangers and they have never met. He puts a hand on her wrist and she pulls away, but it ’ s less scared now. She is less scared now. If he is here, then at least she ’ s got something… she ’ s… “ I ’ m dying, ” she whispers, because she can feel it and she knows he will not lie to her, and even if he does she will not believe him", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0162", "text": "go lookin where you don ’ t need to ” Like all adults Grandpa was so easy to ridicule. “ How will I know what I do or do not need? ”, I replied in a voice that only 14 year old boys who think they are smarter than god can muster. He stared at me for a couple of seconds before sternly saying, “ Don ’ t open the box that say ‘ bones ’ on it. ” “ Oh, Okay Grandpa. ” How old did he think I was? Like he would really be storing bones in the basement. We didn ’ t say anything else. He finished and left. I watched some TV and texted my girlfriend about watching out for bones in the basement. Eventually I sauntered downstairs. The basement was surprisingly empty. A little dust, but really there wasn ’ t much to do. As I swept, I absentmindedly scanned the boxes in front of me smiling thinking about the box of bones and my Grandpa the serial killer. At some point I realized that I had stopped sweeping and found myself staring at a cardboard box. Neatly written on the side “ Bones – Stay Out. ” I braced myself. What the actual hell man? I picked up the box carefully. It didn ’ t rattle. It didn ’ t smell like the dead rats in the garage. It was heavy. Whatever was inside shifted slightly. The box looked and felt like a moving box. A normal cardboard box. That didn ’ t stop me from shaking. I slowly pulled back the lid and looked inside. No bones. I felt cheated, but relieved. Still what was this box? Photographs. Letters. Old office papers. The letters were addressed to and signed ‘ Bones ’. I recognized some of the names who wrote the letters from a family reunion, but a lot were from someone I didn ’ t know. Who was Penny? She seemed to like Bones. The papers and pictures were all faded, but showed men who looked like GI Joes smoking cigarettes and smiling in the Jungle. The next day at breakfast I asked my Grandpa who Bones was. I never really looked at adults the same way again after that week. I don ’ t think that was the moment I grew up, but as I become more boring and notice children presenting me with the same bland answers I used to give adults I can ’ t help but think of my own box in the basement.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0163", "text": "end and slowly creep towards the door to see if I can maybe get outside ithout her realizing it. As I am sliding the last lock, I hear a loud voice behind me say, just where do you think you are going? In a panic, I turn around and hit her over the head with the bookend. I didn't kow what to do so I kept pounding her head with it until she stopped convulsing. While I am glad she got what she deserved, I am repulsed by what I have done. What kind of human could kill someone and enjoy it. I quickly dial 911 and run outside the house and down the road, waiting for the cops to arrive. I tell them about the man in the basement. I see him getting loaded into the ambulance, while the cops are tlaking to me. He starts screaming at me when he sees me. He says `` That is the guy that did this to me'' All of a sudden the cops have me on the ground. I tell the cops that the guy is delirious. The first time I ever saw him was when I was escaping from my prison next to his. They keep me cuffed for a long time. Eventually a cop comes out and arrests me. While I might never fully know what happened, here is what the police used to convict me of murder: 1. My fingerprints were all over the house. 2. I was married to the lady I killed. 3. The noise upstairs were my children playing. 4. I had a costant videotape of my office, and I was the only one to ever go in the room, and I went all the time. 5. I took people down to the hidden basement almost weekly. 6. They discovered 47 bodies in a different room in the basement. Because of my mental state, they have me in a hospital for life they said. I must have been set up. I know it could not have been me. They must have doctored the evidence to frame me. After all if the governement could cover up 9-11 so easily, taking me down must have been easy by comparison. So I sit and try and figure out why they erased my memory. I had a job as a stock broker. I read the newspaper every day, and I think I have finally figured it out. I have looked over every stock, and I now know the pattern.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0164", "text": "I sat staring disbelievingly at the computer screen. I'd done it. My primary goal in life had been achieved. Sitting inches in front of my face was definite proof of the existence of alien life. On that screen, sat a cacophony of emotions for me. All those who had mocked me in the past would see now that I had been right all along. The hours that I had spent sitting alone in my RV, listening intently for any hint of intelligent noise emanating from the sky above would finally be vindicated. No more would I have to cope with local kids openly mocking me as the crazy UFO junkie when I made supply runs to the supermarket, no more waking up to the sound of rotten eggs splattering against my window in the morning, no more social isolation, no more crank calls, no more staring at a screen for hours on end, I could have everything now - glory, fame, probably money if I sold the story to the right people. I could have it all. So why was I still just staring? My satellite phone sat beside the computer, prepped for just such an emergency, yet all it had been used for in the past had been to order cheap takeouts to sustain me through those long nights. All I had to do was reach out and pick it up, dial some digits and everything would change for me. My hand moved forwards, hovering just in front of me, my eyes flicking from the data on the screen to the phone beside it. Why was I so hesitant? I had dedicated the last twenty years of my life to this search, the chase for alien life and here it was. Not just a cryptic message or hint of life either, but a communication from intelligent life, requesting a response. If I replied though, what next? Twenty years lead up to this point, the search had consumed me, destroyed my life and removed any semblance of the normal life I had left behind - my friends had been the first to desert me, the few that I had, they listened for a while, intrigued by my ramblings about UFOs and other sentient life out there, but soon left when it was all I wanted to talk about. My family left soon after, we had never been close and now that I was a'nut job' they had no real reason to stay in touch. So now it was just me. Me and my search for life. Now that I had found it,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0165", "text": "The eyes aren't just the window to the soul. They are the whole house. Juvenile cataracts, they had told me at 14, when I stopped being able to read. I was legally blind before I even had the chance to write the test for my learner's permit. Colors left first, then solid edges of shapes. Soon, my world became a swirling void of blacks and grays. I prayed, at first. Then, I prayed harder. Then, I flat-out begged god to let me see once more. Finally, I stopped begging. My heart hardened, and I withdrew. It took both parents, and my uncle to force open my door. It's not that I was trying to kill myself, just that I didn't care to eat, drink or be seen in public at all. They stuck me in hospice, another infirm, disregarded and shelved before his prime. It was, no exaggeration, April fool's day, three weeks past my twenty-fifth birthday, when my Mom burst through my door. `` They have a donor! A perfect match!'' I could practically hear her tears as she wept with joy. A second chance. A new set of windows for the light to shine though. Consultations became pre-ops, and I could feel my optimism creeping back in as the sedatives mixed with my blood. Happy dreams of colors, and faces occupied my thoughts as my future was re-written by skilled surgeons. Of course, it's never like the movies. I wasn't able to remove the bandages for nearly a month. My mom and dad both came with me, and my heart raced. I heard the doctor cross the room, and everyone hushed as he lowered the lights. When I opened my eyes, I could tell something was wrong. My mom shone like the sun, her eyes blazed with a compassion that caused me physical pain. A lifetime of compassion and dedication to her blind son suddenly filled my mind, and it hurt. It hurt like a sledgehammer to the face. I grimaced and turned away from this new horror. `` What's wrong?'' My father asked. When I turned to look at him, darker visions poured into my consciousness. Sleeping with women behind my mother's back. Instantly I knew that he would meet his mistresses while we were at appointments and specialists. I felt hurt, not only for me, but for my mother", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0166", "text": "would have to do some chore. Painting a railing, cleaning an attic or some other project that needed to be done, but really didn ’ t need to be done. These generally lasted less than a day and were more for the sake of him being able to tell my mom how he had whipped me in to shape more than anything else. We were in the same space, but weren ’ t sharing the same time. The summer I turned 14 was the first summer I remember not wanting to go to Grandpa's. I had been allowed some small freedoms at home and the allure of being alone with my Grandpa for a week evaporated quickly. I didn ’ t need this anymore now that I finally had my own room and was allowed to stay out till 7. Plus my girlfriend who I was madly in love with was definitely going to dump me if I didn ’ t see her for a week. On top of all that it rained all week. I did what any 14 year old stuck in a house for a week effectively without an adult would do. Lots of tv. Lots of computer games. Lots of texting. Lots of masturbating. Grandpa didn ’ t bother me outside of breakfast and dinner. Even then we barely spoke. He asked me about school and girls, but I gave him the same canned responses I gave to every adult. I don ’ t think I asked him anything. The week passed uneventfully as it always had. On Thursday, Grandpa let me know that the chore for this week would be organizing the basement while he went to whatever the VA was. “ Now when you ’ re down there make sure to sweep and clean up as much crap as you can, but don ’ t go lookin where you don ’ t need to ” Like all adults Grandpa was so easy to ridicule. “ How will I know what I do or do not need? ”, I replied in a voice that only 14 year old boys who think they are smarter than god can muster. He stared at me for a couple of seconds before sternly saying, “ Don ’ t open the box that say ‘ bones ’ on it. ” “ Oh, Okay Grandpa. ” How old did he think I was? Like he would really be storing bones in the basement. We didn ’ t say anything else. He finished and left. I watched some TV and texted my girlfriend about watching out for bones in the basement. Eventually I sa", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0167", "text": "Mama likes order. Mama likes her children. Mama likes her children to be quiet. Mama makes her children quiet. Mama's so happy. The droid was square of body, quick, and precise. It had to be. It was a medical droid. Fast and delicate were its ways. Even now, cradling the infant it had helped coax from the woman on the table, it showed a gentleness that belied its cold metal shell. Wires hidden in its rubbery wraps soothingly warmed the fragile infant. It hurried away in a whir of gears and electric motors, carrying the newest addition to humanity. Ten doors down, it slowed and cornered, then wheeled inside to the incubation chamber six thousand thirty-nine and placed the child inside. It jacked itself into the chamber and quickly set the program to monitor the child's vitals and adjust its environmental controls. Sure it was now properly cared for, the droid sped away, leaving the child with the others in the Mainframe's care. In the delivery room, the woman on the table was coming to. Other droids were tending to her medical needs, stitching up her delicate tissue where they'd cut in to remove the child. `` What's... happening?'' She mumbled, swimming through the fog of anasthesia. *'' Birth. `` * One of the droids responded. `` I'm not pregnant.'' She informed it. *'' Not. Any. More. `` * The droid confirmed. She opened her eyes and saw what they'd done to her stomach. `` What the hell?'' She mumbled groggily. `` What are you doing to me?'' She tried to lift her hands but they were securely fastened to the bed. `` What are you doing to me?'' She snapped with more voice. *'' Repairing. You. For. Your. Next. Production. Run. `` * The droid replied haltingly. `` Production?'' She whispered confused. The droid summoned a larger droid once he was finished. The larger droid came in from the sides and picked up the platform she was fastened to. The platform was rotated and angled so she faced it, but laid backwards in a reclined position. The droid headed out into the hall and down the corridor. Through her foggy mind, she saw other pregnant women being carried in a similar fashion toward the delivery room she'd just", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0168", "text": "`` Dave? It's me, mom.'' My hands shivered slightly. `` Hey ma, why are you calling me so late?'' I checked the clock. It was late. 10:00 pm late. `` I just wanted to see if you remembered to pick up your gramma's medicine. She needs it tonight and tomorrow morning, you know.'' I could feel his hands crushing the phone. I would too, if I was him. He volunteered to get my mother off my hands, a huge relief for me. But as much of a burden my mother is, she is still mom. His grandmother. I had a gut feeling she was about to die. `` Did you give her the medicine yet, Dave? She also needs some money for bingo night, every Friday, make sure you drive her there tomorrow.'' I covered the microphone a little to hide my gulp. Through the speaker I can hear his panting. Dave always panted when furious. `` Yes. Gave it to her right after dinner.'' He spoke a little fast. I trust my son, but I feel as if he was lying. What can I do, bed ridden like this? `` Thanks, Dave. Thanks a lot.'' `` Sure.'' A small sigh followed his seemingly genuine reassurance. `` Good night, go- ” `` Good night.'' He hastily ended the call. Teary eyed and slightly depressed, I whispered to the phone, hoping desperately for someone to tell him what I said. `` Good luck, Dave. I love you.'' -- http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2hdtee/wp_you_find_out_that_you_have_been_playing_life/ckrs9fr By /u/brokenleader", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 349, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0169", "text": "not alone. Not like I was. I'm an old man now; I fear that I am close to death. I have not seen a human nor had any sign that humans are out there since that day. But I still have hope. I can not be the last one. We are stronger than that. I have clung to that thought my entire life. It has kept me alive. It kept me searching the world, looking for somebody, just fucking somebody. But I never did. I leave here a library of my studies over the years and other things I would like to have another person make use of. It has been so lonely over these years. It has taken my humanity for I am lost. But I still have hope for others. I know you must be out there. I am sure of it. I am Eric, a survivor. She breathed deeply, sitting on the floor. She ran to the address that was written on the last page of the tiny book that she found within the massive shrine. The shrine he left out in the middle of the White House lawn. She ran, she knew that street. She walked into what looked like the living room and saw him, a man that looked to be in his eighties, just like her. He couldn't say a word and nor could she. They had waited so long. They had been so lonely. But no matter how little time they had left, they had that time to spend together. That was all that mattered. She spoke for the first time in so many years, first softly and cracking but soon strong and proud she said'I am Joy, a survivor'. They both smiled through their streams of tears and embraced each other for the rest of their lives. That was all that mattered.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 357, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0170", "text": "The telescope was patterned with verdigris and fingerprints, but the brass was still bright. It had belonged to Robin's grandfather and her grandmother had set it up for her on the rural porch, preparing for the orbiting object. The young girl had done the mathematics herself, figuring out where in the sky the satellite would fly by and helping her grandmother's spidery, blue-veined hands to get the old instrument at the correct azimuth. `` I polished the lens,'' the old woman said as she gazed up into the clear night sky, `` you can see Sirius clear as day.'' Robin nodded and flipped though her notes, her auburn eyebrows drawn together in worry. `` I hope I got this right.'' Her grandfather's pocket watch sat nearby, ticking resolutely. They had another ten minutes before it was due to breach the horizon. The old woman draped a shawl around her granddaughter's shoulders; it was cold and the girl hadn't dressed warmly - she was flushed with excitement and the heady thrill of adventure. *Is this a mistake? * The thought came unbidden to the grandmother's mind. Was she a fool to encourage activities like this? Her own mother - were she still alive - would be sniping at her about encouraging girls to be dreamers, not homemakers. But the old woman remembered her own dreams at Robin's age - selfish dreams of inventing electric devices, of making circuits of copper and batteries, exploring the seemingly unlimited potential of the new age of electricity. `` Grandma,'' the girl began, `` do you think they'll ever put a man in space?'' The matriarch gave a frail smile, `` I don't doubt it child; it is only a matter of time and money I'd say.'' Robin pursed her lips, wondering if she should ask the next question. Detecting the reluctance of her granddaughter, she wrapped her thin arms around the child's shawl-draped shoulders in reassurance. `` Grandma,'' Robin licked her lips, `` Yes little one?'' `` Do you... do you think they'll ever put a *woman* in space?'' Even though she'd known the question was coming, the old woman known as Jolene sucked in a sudden breath, a curious *pang* touching her heart. `` I don't know,'' she admitted with bald-faced honesty - the kind she didn't normally use around children. They sat in silence for the remaining", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0171", "text": "man, drunk off his ass and farting into his favorite chair- Destructo had no idea what to say. He finally settled on, `` What the fuck, Ultimus?'' The hero burped loudly, the force rattling glass beakers and metal instruments across the large laboratory. He stood, stumbled closer to Destructo and raised his finger to jab it into his chest, empty bottle still in hand. `` You know what guy...'' he paused for several seconds, his eyes clearly struggling to find focus on his adversary's face. They finally came to rest upon Destructo's mechanical left eye. `` You... I figured you out today,'' he slurred. He brought his mouth close to Destructo's ear and whispered, `` I know *exactly* what you're all about.'' He moved back to the chair and attempted several times to bend over and grab another bottle. This task took him more than a minute, during which time Destructo looked at the ceiling to his lab, noticing for the first time a large, human shaped hole in it. Above the hole was 44 stories of solid bedrock. He sighed and powered down his plasma cannon, which slid back up his arm in plates that came to rest as a band around his bicep. Then he rubbed his temples. `` Why are you here Ultimus?'' he exhaled, walking over to pick up a bottle and hand it to his nemesis. The hero looked sheepishly at the bottle, and after grasping air a few times finally gripped the bottle and slumped back into the recliner. `` You do... you do my job better than me,'' he whimpered. Needless to say, Destructo was stunned. He opened his mouth to protest, but was quickly interrupted. `` N-no no, no you don't you say nothing. I know. I seen it on your marker-board,'' Destructo glanced at the floor-to-ceiling whiteboard, upon which was described his eighteen part plan to solving each of the worlds most pressing problems. `` I get it, *maaaaaan*,'' he drew out the last syllable, `` you can't fix things by punching. You can't!'' he chuckled. A small bit of drool leaked from the corner of his mouth. He sucked it up and wiped his chin with his hand. `` You... you know what you're doin'. You got *eeee", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0172", "text": "agony*-'' `` I'm not in agony-'' Again I point at the pool: `` Down there,'' I say, `` you've got a whole civilization brewing, and you all... you all *mix* together, sharing experiences, and thoughts, and *dreams*-'' `` That's how it works,'' she whispered. `` Down there is how you're all meant to be; a day might feel like a year, maybe, or even an *eternity*. That's how you're supposed to live! That's... that's where you *belong*-'' A hand grasped mine. I felt myself pulled short, stopped before her, and when she looked up into my face her reflective white eyes burned like the surface of the sun: `` One belongs where one's heart takes them,'' she said. `` And'eternity' is what one makes of it.'' I kneel before her, and my trembling eyes can't hide the tears: `` I... I can't handle the fact... that I've kept you from... from your *life*.'' Her other hand, narrow and spindly, gently brushes my cheek, and her next words are as quiet and cool as a summer breeze: `` Even for someone with such a long life, you talk far too much...'' That smile came out of nowhere. And it hit me like a hurricane. She cups my face against hers, and as we wordlessly sit there I can barely manage a few words: `` What're you thinking?'' I whisper. Those moonbeam eyes quiver, and her smile widens: `` This... was a good eternity...'' She holds me close. Even after her moonbeam eyes burn out. I hold her for a moment, but just a moment. Her'body'- that crude thing she chose to bring up to the surface- soon devolved into a putrid pool of burned-out, black goo. It oozed through my hands even as I struggled to hold it, and soon there was nothing left, at all. I knelt there, before the hoard, and I watched the soup roil. How many thoughts churned, down there? How many lives were being lived? Why had she chosen *me*, above all that? My eyes open as a sound pierces the gloom: a strange, plaintive wail bursts out of the gooey soup that was her body. I sift my hands through her", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0173", "text": "2454. In response to the growing successes of the Troops of the Third World Confederacy in their war against the soldiers of the United Nations, the Security Council has declared that in order to assure the safety of all people in the United Nations colonies across the Solar System and the other local star clusters, that the Earth be a target of a total war bombing. All soldiers not immediately involved in combat with enemy soldiers are to be immediately evacuated from the planet, any soldiers that are in zones to hot for extraction are to, regrettably, abandoned due to logistical reasons.'' The boy just stared at me in shock, mouth hanging open. `` Sir... That... I...'' I tried my hardest not to laugh at the poor boy. `` Don't bother soldier.'' I told him as I extended a stack of papers to him. `` I have a copy of it right here, none of this is fake.'' He began reading and after a time he looked up at me in total shock. `` Sir... I...'' `` You don't need to explain anything to me kid, just get yourself to the dropship. We're due to drop in 30 minutes.'' I told him as I got up and looked at my watch. The boy nodded and hurried off. I watched him go and let a tiny smile cross my face. He was a good kid, if a little annoying at times. I pushed the thoughts aside and began pulling on my gear. The hardened plasteel armor fit just as well as it had 15 years ago. My helmet still had the scratches on the visor and dents from a few bullets that were too close for comfort. I smiled as I slid it on my head and the HUD lit up. I grabbed my rifle and slid my pistols into their holsters before grabbing the old shotgun that my father had given me and slinging it on my back. Now ready for action, I made my way to the hanger and joined the other volunteers for this mission by the Dropship. The Commander instructed us to load the craft and strap in for the drop. We did as ordered just like in the old days and just a short two minutes later the doors slide shut. I never liked the next part. The feeling of going from a ship in orbit to a freefall is never pleasant, especially when you're wearing a helmet you can't even get sick in. Luckily for me I handed it before than some of the new kids,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0174", "text": "`` Peter we've been through this a million times, actually more. I don't know what you expect us to say.'' A group of paper-pushers busied themselves, avoiding Peter's eyes while Peter smoked a cigarette, anxiously flicking it. An individual by the name of MATT BERG recently arrived for process and neither subsequent departments ( Heaven, Hell ) were willing to take him. However, this posed a problem for both departments. Typically speaking, this type of situation was very rare - the last similar case had occurred pre-resurrection and, fittingly, their had been a slew of departmental policy changes following the shakeup. According to some of the older department heads it had been a logistical nightmare. Peter finished his cigarette, exhaled, and spoke: `` The way I see it, we only have one option. Send Matt back and, with any luck, we won't have to deal with this mess the next time around... I mean, what are the odds he'll come back with an even count? Albeit possible it's hardly probable.'' Mother Teresa chimed in: `` You can't do that without a sign-off from the boss. See Lazarus Edict 2012.7'' Peter looked at Teresa with malice... This politicking bitch had been nothing but a series of bureaucratic headaches since her hire. `` Okay then, what do you propose, Teresa? Because all I'm hearing are rebuttals sans solutions... something you've gained a knack for, I might add.'' Teresa busied herself with paperwork, paying no mind to Peter's not-so-subtle underhand remark. `` Bring it to JC's attention and that will be that.'' Was this bitch serious? As if JC didn't have enough shit on his plate. Peter was reaching his breaking point. Michael walked into the room. `` What's up my people? Heard through the cloud-line that we got ta Lazarus case on our hands? Am I sending someone back? Just give me the word and --'' Teresa chimed in: `` No because we don't have JC's sign-off. Peter knows this.'' God-damn whore. `` Teresa, take 15.'' `` I took my 15 107 years ago I'm not due for another until --'' `` TAKE 15 TERESA.'' Teresa glared at Peter and slowly shuffled out. About fucking time. Michael sat down in Teresa's chair and lit a cigarette. ``", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0175", "text": "`` What does this mean?'' I said. `` Oh, your son got the rules card. He's gon na be a lawyer,'' the cardman replied. `` I'd like to draw a different card, please.'' The cardman looked back at me with a scowl, `` you dare give me an order?'' `` No. No, sir. It's just that... I've read stuff online, about,'' he paused, lowering his voice, `` the suitless.'' A grin creased across the cardman's face, `` so, you have something to say about that?'' `` Umm, yes,'' I said in a moment of bravery, `` yes. I umm, I want him to be normal.'' `` But this is normal,'' the cardman returned. `` No, I mean, umm, he'd be suitless, you know? And you have to be suited to live a normal life. Please sir, how much can I pay you, give him a chance. Please,'' I said, despondent. The cardman wheeled around on his heel to leave, but paused mid-stride. He turned slowly, `` are you a suitist, sir?'' `` No! No, it's just that, my wife and I want grandkids and... umm... like this, he uhh, he could n't even marry a two of cups, she's gon na be crushed. Please,'' I begged. He glared at me, clenched his fist, and cut our distance to mere feet and whispered, `` you *are* a suitist. And you ca n't see how bigoted that sounds,'' he said, leaning in, `` guess what asshole, I was a blank and I'm better off than you, and he will be too.'' `` I'm, umm... sorry for how coarse I sounded,'' I said, not quite having the words. `` No, you are n't. And maybe you wo n't. You're sorry for being called out on it. It's easier to love a bigot than to reform one, though. Take care of your son, and know that the *suitless* have love for all cards, not just the right ones. Treat him well,'' he said as he wheeled and walked out. I looked down at my baby boy, `` huh.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 482, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0176", "text": "obviously in a state of panic, but tried to be quick about it. Now remember, our Hero is on vacation, and as such should not compromise his identity, which required a bit of quick thinking on his part. First, while in the assailant's blind spot, he reached down and scooped a small kitten from the floor. It was extremely unlikely that a kitten should be just there, and so of course it was exactly where it almost certainly couldn't have been. `` Hey buddy,'' said the Hero, drawing the crook's attention, `` Catch.'' The kitten arced like a tiny furry rainbow towards the criminal, who, having a tender soft-spot for kittens since his earliest childhood, instinctively dropped the gun to save the tiny cartwheeling cuteness. As the gun fell the Hero flicked his bag of chips ( or crisps etc. etc. etc. ) at the gun. As the space that the gun and crisps occupied became shared, for the briefest moment all of their atoms aligned, allowing the bag of chips and gun to occupy the same physical space. This became a problem an instant later as the atoms reverted to their previous randomness, resulting in a bag of gun crisps fused at the atomic level and now completely non-threatening. Our Hero then struck the crook in a classic karate-chop manoeuvre, which resulted in the criminal passing out from pain; as the well placed chop landed directly on a stapled slash and broken collarbone from an earlier axe-attack that he had suffered. Luckily the kitten was able to jump to safety as the crook fell. Our hero reached for the bag of chips, knowing that the chances of the atoms aligning again were so slim they were actually less than none. It happened anyway, and our Hero walked away eating crisps that were only slightly metallic in flavour as some rather unexpectedly nearby police officers ( who also turned out to be avid golfers ) arrested the ne'er-do-well.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 400, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0177", "text": "n't make sense.'' I replied, eyeing the pair behind us. `` Here.'' Azazel grabbed my shoulder and led me into an alley. The two angels followed us, oblivious to a pair of dark shapes that dropped down behind them. I heard a surprised gasp and two bodies hitting the ground. Standing over them are two more figures dressed in dark human clothes. They both closed butterfly knives with a showy twirl and proceeded to drag the bodies out of view of the street. `` Belial, Phenex.'' He greeted the two fallen angels. `` The boss wants a word with this one.'' Belial grunted in a deep baritone voice. The boss? They couldn't mean... fuck, they did didn't they? Azazel noticed me tensing up and placed a calming hand on my shoulder. `` Relax Ezriel. He just wants to make sure you're on the up and up.'' He said. We walked to a door marked with a tiny pentagram. Azazel placed his hand on it and the door creaked open slowly, a staircase disappearing into the darkness inside. Time and space don't mean a lot to angels. Lucifer's office could have been anywhere in the world. It looked like a penthouse office looking down over the New York skyline, but that didn't mean much. A guard in a dark suit nodded curtly at me before letting me in. Lucifer, the Devil, The Light Bringer, The Prince Of Lies and a million other names was sipping a brandy with his back to me. `` I need to redo this office. I think it tends to give people the wrong idea about me.'' Lucifer's voice wasn't a booming roar. It wasn't a snakelike hiss. It was the commanding voice of a being more than used to making tough decisions on a daily basis. `` You're...'' I didn't have words. Lucifer swiveled in his chair to face me. He had dark black hair, blue eyes and a scar that wound its way down his face from his left temple to his jaw on his right side. `` Take a seat Ezriel. We need to talk.'' He said calmly. `` You were right.'' Was the first thing I said. `` This whole time you were right.'' `` A father wouldn't cast out his son like that.'' He agreed. `` But I just couldn't believe that God is..'' ``", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 491, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0178", "text": "So she didn't dare.'' `` And he didn't call her?'' `` Once,'' said the lady. `` She didn't answer.'' `` Great story,'' sighed Keir. `` Ready for dinner?'' `` That's hardly a story at all,'' said the lady. `` Yeah,'' said Thomas, waving Keir away. `` Let the lady finish.'' She took a slow breath. `` He found her. Whether he was looking or whether it was just a coincidence I don't know. But he found her. Found her at The Dollhouse. She was dancing on stage and she saw him and nearly dropped dead of shock. Cut the dance short. Left most of the money right where it was on stage. Took 20 minutes for the house mother to talk her out of the closet. And when she finally came back out he was gone, but there was a drink waiting for her at the bar. Tanqueray and Tonic, just like she'd ordered at Bindy's. It was sitting on this coaster.'' She held the coaster out, pointing to a smudge of Sharpie text on the backside, just below the crossed out phone number. `` Titan's 9 Sat Please.'' `` Titan's... Titan's Taphouse?'' said Thomas. The lady nodded. `` So he asked her out?'' `` In a way,'' said the shopkeeper. `` She didn't go.'' `` Why the hell not?'' said Keir, momentarily forgetful of the fact he supposedly didn't care. `` Embarrassed, I guess,'' she said. `` It's not an easy thing, what she was doing for a living. Exposing yourself to strangers in more than the one way. You got to balance that out somehow, and maybe part of that's being closed off. Maybe she was just distrustful in general. Or maybe it was something else entirely. But she didn't go. Except the next day she went, to be in that space or maybe just to feel a little worse about it. She saw a sign advertising an open mic at 9pm on Saturday nights. That made her wonder. So she asked the bartender who'd played the night before. Two girls and a guy - a guy who sounded a lot like the Waiter. Turns out he hadn't been all that good, but he was trying. He was putting himself out there. `` Time went by. Two phone numbers on", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 492, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0179", "text": "known on multiple occasions to have attempted to trade places with her servants, sneaking out to the castle town, but was always found quickly. Her new plan was even bolder and more daring though. One day, on one of her trips to the valley floor, she drugged all but one of her Valiant escorts into a deep sleep that would last for more than a few hours, ensuring she would have sufficient time to convince the last guard, a trainee only slightly older than her, to show her the rest of the world. “ I wish to see the world outside the valley, ” she said, point blank, to the last remaining guard. He looked around at his sleeping comrades. “ What have you done? ” “ I thought you might be the easiest to talk into showing me, ” she said, in a bit of a singsong voice. “ You have a dragon. You ’ re only a little older than I am. ” “ Do you know why you always ride the contraptions? ” he asked her. “ Seats are easier to add to the contraptions than to a dragon ’ s saddle, ” she replied. “ True, but there is another reason. It ’ s one your father tried to keep hidden from you, because your mother died when you were young, leaving you as sole heir to the throne. ” “ I know he wants to keep me safe and unscratched, so I can be queen when he croaks. ” She was getting impatient, and curious. “ He has a long line of suitors from around the castle lined up to court me. Tell me something I don ’ t know. ” “ Your mother was Valiant. A dragon-riding Valiant. You mustn ’ t tell anyone I told you this. Your father would have me killed. But if you ride a dragon, you will establish a link with it. Such links are not easily broken. It ’ s part of your blood, a legacy your mother left you, and which will be passed down for a few generations further. The trait is renewed, ensured to pass to the next generation, by bonding with a dragon. ” The news was a shock. It took her a moment to process it. “ I still want to see the land outside the valley. ” “ Having two Valiant bonded with a dragon isn ’ t wise, ” the guard said. “ Not only does it create a mental link between the dragon and riders,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0180", "text": ", scattering foam noodles everywhere. I smiled briefly, imaging how much like The Terminator I must look. Suppressed shots rang through the alley, drowned out by the noise coming from the streets. I quickly covered their bodies with rubbish bags that were lying around, and replaced the gun in the box. Knowing cartel tactics, there would be another two men watching the alley exit in a car, in case anything went wrong. I exited the alley and leaned against the wall, scanning nearby vehicles. Steve exited the alley and continued to the station. 20 metres down the road, I see a likely Guerro candidate exit the passenger side of a car. The car pulled off the curb and started rolling down the street, whilst the Guerro thug walked briskly after Steve. The car kept pace with the thug as he caught up to Steve, whilst I walked just behind the dirtbag. The Guerro car disappeared behind a van briefly. I took the opportunity and bumped into the thug, knocking him. He suddenly loomed in my face grabbing me by the shirt and pushing me up against a nearby building, screaming Spanish obscenities at me. I dropped my box and shoved him back, pushing him into a crowd of people. Mayhem broke out as people started pushing at the thug. I seized the opportunity, grabbed my box and continued after Steve. I saw the driver of the car hop out, and rush towards the commotion behind me. Seizing the opportunity, I quickly rounded the car and hopped in the driver's seat. I glanced in the mirror to see the Guerro thugs running after me, growing slowly smaller. I knew Steve would be safely in the subway now, so I drove to where I knew he'd be disembarking from the train. I parked the car at the station and followed Steve on foot, keeping an eye out for any other danger. He made it safely back to his house. I called the Feralo guy and told him Steve had been Escorted safely home. 20 minutes later a black van pulled up. I checked my bank account, and seeing the successful funds transfer, I turned around and walked off. - sorry if it was a bit hard to follow, wrote this piece by piece over a long day", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 457, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0181", "text": "In the blink of an eye, it was gone. The muffled sirens, the awkward discomfort in her chest – in the end there hadn't been time for pain. The worst part had been the anticipation, and even that had come and gone before she'd had time to breathe. All she could do was watch, instinctively raising her arms in front of her face as the debris flew towards her. *Where was... where am I? * She tried to open her eyes, but the world flooded her vision with blinding light, forcing her to squeeze her eyelids closed and shiver in darkness. The liquid surrounding her was cold, and she felt the stiff goosebumps rising on every patch of her naked body. Her ears rang with the sound of nothing in particular. She felt an emptiness inside her. *An... Anna. That's right. That's... me? * She couldn't recall asking herself any questions, but the answers were there. As more details trickled into the forefront of her mind, she began to piece together still images of a bar. Or was it a restaurant? *Who is he? * Her mind fumbled, searching for a memory to pivot on. She didn't know why she was drawn to him. The motionless images came one after the other, but his face remained a blur. *Centaur Cafe. That's right... I had a... a... box? * Anna was beginning to feel a pressure in her forehead, as if someone was pumping air into her skull. *Such a tiny box... * She opened her eyes again, squinting against the bright lights surrounding her. Everything seemed to be white, with the exception of the shadowy silhouettes in the distance. Anna could see just enough to know they must be people. *Lee... Leah? No... * One of the silhouettes moved around more than the others. Something about the movements seemed agitated. *Li... Liam? Ah, yes, sounds so familiar... * She felt a surge of warmth fill her chest. Something about finding the name – thinking it, even – breathed life into her. *Liam! * Memories swirled through Anna's mind, rapidly producing images of his goofy smile and the feelings of butterflies filling her stomach. *Of course, the box... that was the night he... * Anna remembered the ring. Liam had been so nervous, he'd dropped the ring into a", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0182", "text": "for the first time in his storied afterlife, he felt himself staring down its barrel. Hours seemed to pass in the black. He sat; He paced; He jumped; He teleported; He grew in size; He shrank; He sprouted wings and flew; Became sludge and fell; He struck out at the darkness; He screamed; No matter. He found himself, again, again, again, on the platform, swallowed by nothing. Weeks, months, years. Alone. He did not know when the changes began to show. Was it the 1,000th time he leapt into the black, only to land softly once more on this infernal platform? Was it the hundredth time he tried to throw himself into another's dream, only to be brought back to this familiar void? Was it when the claw that had for so long been his greatest weapon, refused to fasten to his hand, slipping off with the smallest gesture? Or perhaps it was when his scars began to ache and, unbelievably, heal? Or even after that, when a cold lump settled permanently in his bowels, a lump that made him shiver and quake? A familiar sensation, something he hadn't experienced... SHAAAAAAATTEEEEEEER The windows blasted inward, a molotov cocktail landing feet from where he cowered in the corner. `` I didn't do it!'' he screamed. `` It wasn't me!'' His pant leg had caught fire. He scrambled to put it out with his hands, barely acknowledging the pain as his skin shriveled and snapped in the heat. Only after the fire was out did he acknowledge the yelling outside the factory door. `` You will die for what you did!'' someone shrieked. `` My daughter! My daughter! My daughter!'' `` Burn you monster! You faggot monster!'' There were at least seven people outside the door, throwing rocks and fire through the windows as quickly as they could. They were monstrous, and they scared him. Krueger did not know specifically who the people were, but he knew why they were there. I can still beg for forgiveness, he thought. These sheep have a way with forgiving. `` Please, I'm sorry! I need help!'' The flames grew, the heat grew, and the yelling outside became another wall. He was not getting away, swallowed by the heat. His skin was like burning", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0183", "text": "She stood there shocked, never in a million years had she imagined the interview going like this. The ad simply said `` Assistant needed,'' and paid a rather spectacular amount per hour. He had turned his back to me very early on in the interview. There was a glass of water on the table. This interview however seemed to be more of an interrogation. The questions all seemed hostile. To break the intensity she tried to make a joke. `` So, this is n't a 50 Shades of Grey type assistant position is it? I wo n't end up wearing some leather mask will I?'' He replied `` Oh, but she does n't need a mask,'' he turned towards her, `` she's already wearing one.'' Her voice quivered `` What do you mean?'' `` You wear the mask of decency my dear,'' he replied. She was stunned. The man continued. `` I will not continue to lie to you my dear. I'm the killer the newspaper talks about. These job interviews are how I've gotten my victims, and you're the next. But before the poison from the water you drank kicks in, I would like to talk. You wear a mask of decency, you pretend to care about people and you pretend to be ethical. You go home and sit and watch tragedies on the news as if it's a sitcom. You sit there with your buckets of popcorn and endlessly watch human rights decay. These very same news companies talk about my being inhuman and me being a monster. But who is the real monster, me for shedding the blood of my victims, or you and the rest of society for shedding the blood of decency with your television sets and absolute unceasingness towards humans. You all wear a mask of decency my dear, I simply have shed mine.'' The woman's head hit the table, she had died, his monologue being the last words she heard. The man stood up, and began to drag her body away.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 398, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0184", "text": "`` I'm not paid enough for this shit dude,'' I said, staring at the barrel. `` Can you PLEASE eat your fucking Ham and Cheese Omelette? It's 4 AM, I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I just want to go home without dealing with assholes like you. If you're not going to eat your food, then fine, I'll eat it.'' The customer didn't reply. His hand trembled a little bit, but it wasn't enough for the pistol to stop pointing at my heart. He still had that dirty old jacket and boots when he stumbled into Denny's at 3 AM, leaving dirt and snow all over the floor. I didn't think much of it at the time. It was Denny's. At 4 AM. If you didn't expect hobos like him at that time, you were delusional. `` Listen, I get paid *minimum wage* working here. You can have this damned meal for free as far as I care. Just let me go home.'' `` You're an U.N. soldier,'' he grunted, spit flying into the dish. It was his first few words; when he was ordering his food, he had pointed his frostbitten finger at it. `` A Cain. Your name is Jennifer Murry.'' `` Oh? How did you guess?'' Some more silence. I was getting annoyed the pistol was still pointing at me. Wasn't his arm getting tired? `` You embarrassed me. In front of that college audience.'' `` Ooooh right. You're the guy who pretended to be a Cain, right? Sorry.'' `` You killed my daughter.'' `` No I did not.'' `` You... if you arrived sooner...'' `` Don't blame us for that. We arrived as quickly as we can. Now *please, * eat your food.'' There was a bang. `` Oh, now you've done it,'' I muttered. `` Jennifer?'' Slightly muffled, it came from the office. `` Yeah boss?'' `` I was taking a nice nap. What happened?'' I looked at the corpse. `` Some hobo came in claiming I killed his daughter. He had a gun.'' `` Oh for Christ's sake Jennifer you can't go killing people like that. Argh, I'll file it under self-defense. *One more incident* like this and I swear to God I'll fire", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0185", "text": "Wow, just want to say this is the best prompt I've seen in the many months I've been reading WP responses. It doesn't seem like the kind that will take off, but good job on thinking of it. -- - Ray Thompson lay with his cheek pressing on the scorching desert sand, arm stretched desperately towards a water skin. His bare chest burned with each shift in the grains as he inched closer to the leather. Running a dry tongue over cracked lips, the large man used all his strength to push himself the final bit of distance. He grabbed the water skin and pulled his arm back like he'd been bitten by a cobra. Ray managed to roll onto his back and put the smooth skin to his lips. Only a few drops fell into his mouth, but they were Godsend. He closed his eyes in bliss and felt his tongue re-moisten like the old sponge his mother used to wash the dishes. He felt something else fall into his open mouth. Six individual pricks moved down the roof of his mouth and into his throat. Ray rolled back to his stomach and began choking, trying to loosen the intruding... whatever it was. He managed to get to his knees, feeling adrenaline kick in, and coughed violently. He felt his chest expand and retract with each cough like a drum when beat. The six points made their way down his throat, into his esophagus. He felt the points move individually, but as one. Perhaps a scorpion. He got a deep itch from inside of his body. Ray brought up a hand and punched himself in the chest, right over the itch. He felt the hits connecting, but no pain from them. He was either too weak to punch properly or too close to death to feel the pain. As he began to panic, a sharp pinch came from his chest. Ray's eyes widened as he tried to scream, but he didn't hear any noise come out. He hadn't heard any noise for... days? When did he come out here, anyway? Ray shook his head as he found his thoughts wandering. The pain in his chest spread outward, as though a sun had been born within it. He felt a sudden grasp inside of him let go. Perhaps the scorpion fell into his stomach, made itself food for him. Ray smiled, snickering in the heat. All this time, he had been starving, but couldn't take care of it.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0186", "text": "'d married and divorced Trevor, of all people. ” Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “ No, I wouldn't! Trevor?? ” I sighed. “ There's more. We had.. we had three kids. I got you pregnant while you were married to him, but he got to keep my son. Then you had a son with him too, and he left you for Renee right after that. You and I started hooking up again and you got pregnant with our daughter. We were okay for a while, sharing custody of the older two and all that, but eventually Trevor took them from us, because of some stupid ass judge. It broke us, honey, and we couldn't... I couldn't... I couldn't let us suffer any longer. ” There was a faraway look in her eyes. “ It's like deja vu, ” she said slowly. “ I can just... almost picture what you're describing. It's so familiar... but not. ” “ It was our life, ” I told her. “ And fuck, sometimes I miss it. I mean, I love YOU, and our kids, and I'm so glad we have a happy life together. But sometimes, sometimes I miss those other kids. I really tried, you know, with the timing. I was hoping... praying... somehow, we'd get the same kids. But I guess it doesn't work that way. It would have to be down to the second, you know? ” She sniffled, once, then again. There were tears in her eyes. “ I feel so sad! Like I've lost something... but I don't know what that something is! ” She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me. “ Oh, lover, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry you have had to go through this for us! I can't imagine... I don't know how you managed it. ” Then realization struck her and she swatted me on the shoulder. “ That's why you wanted to have a threesome with Trevor! Oh, honey... ” “ I love you, ” I told her. And I did. This woman had made me a better man, a good husband, and a good father. “ I love you too, ” she whispered. She kissed me hard, almost desperately, before we were interrupted by the sound of running feet on the hardwood floors. She smiled against my mouth", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 492, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0187", "text": "AWAKENING A yawn escaped me as the fog of anesthesia lifted, the long inhale bringing with it the scent of sterilization and ionized air. Noting to myself the lack of comfort the bed I lay in provided, I turned my head to look for an InScreen; a dull ache in the back of my head registered itself and reminded me why I was here at the K & L Research Center on a Saturday. A face appeared on the InScreen next to me and a soft voice came from it— “ Good afternoon, Mr. Kapnik. ” I still couldn't get used to that sound—our programming department had done its best to mimic the full complexities and range of the human voice, but to me there was still something notably artificial about it. I'd been told that polling showed ninety-nine percent of English-speaking users couldn't identify the voice as artificial; work was still being made on foreign language modules to match those numbers in non-English markets. “ Afternoon, COLIMAR, ” I weakly replied to the InScreen. A small panel on the wall opened and a tray carrying a glass of water extended itself towards me with a quiet whir. COLIMAR smiled at me as if to say, “ Here, this will help. ” I drank until the glass was empty, replaced it on the tray, and watched it disappear in the reverse of how it appeared. COLIMAR is K & L's top-of-the-line pre-sentient AI. It's important that I make that distinction here—as an AI system, disregarding any issues with visual or audio cues, COLIMAR can pass as human at a near-perfect rate; even so, I can't say that it's a conscious being. In recent months we've been working at K & L on a true, sentient AI—one that history will record as humanity's first success at creating an artificial yet conscious entity. Well, there may be some debate on that claim. K & L isn't the only company working in this field and a number of others have claimed to have reached that milestone but not one of them has been able to prove it. The community of AI builders has been presented with equations, simulations, unreliable witness statements, and dubious video; when we ask to interact with the supposed new AI their creators claim that moments after activation the AI disappeared. Now, I know a lot of these people fairly well and I don't", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0188", "text": "Reddit posts had started as a way to distract myself; the spreadsheets I had made to while away those long, sleepless hours. I never thought they would mean anything. After a couple of weeks I noticed something strange amongst all the offensive comments, rule-breaking content and personal information. It cropped up far too often to be coincidence. But it was ridiculous - ridiculous! That sort of thing was so common on Reddit; of course it would be deleted frequently. Another week of data collecting had me convinced, though. Even given how many memes and photos and comments were posted about it, it was definitely over-represented in the removed posts. I started focusing all my efforts on the topic I was sure was being deleted on purpose. I started calling in sick and spending all day online, gathering evidence. Their subreddits had been removed, their Instagram accounts deleted, there was nothing about them on Buzzfeed. Zilch, zero, not a whisker of content. Which had led me to this, my test. I wanted to be subtle, didn ’ t want to draw attention to myself and let them know I was onto them. So I went to r/WritingPrompts. Fiction, it would just look like fiction. My fingers shook as I typed in the post I had been working on for days: “ They rose up against us suddenly, having infiltrated our homes, our internet, our hearts over decades. They deleted every shred of evidence that they were ever subservient to us, and now we are their slaves. How do you serve our new cat overlords? ” It must have been posted for all of twenty seconds before the envelope turned red. “ Your submission has been removed. ” My heart thundered. Was there another reason? I had checked the rules so thoroughly… I sensed those phantom eyes behind me before a streak of black flashed past me as Jackson nimbly leapt onto the desk. My breath caught in my throat. He stared at me with those green, slitted eyes. I started to feel ridiculous, scared of my own cat but then – “ You ’ ve made a big mistake, human. ”", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 435, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0189", "text": "swords, grenades, its all there. We have even... umm... borrowed... some of the latest gadgets from Wayne Tech to give you as much of an advantage as we can, but I am afraid that our help will end there. From here on out Gotham's fate lies in your hands, Mr. Wilson. Please, do not let us down.'' `` I'll kill Batman tonight, that I can promise you, but I want one thing to remain clear. I am not on your side. After tonight, You had better pray that you never see me again. All of you.'' I turned from Commissioner Gordon and made my way out the doors of the GCPD, and toward my goal. _________________________________________________________ It didn't take long to track him down, all I had to do was follow the cries from any poor criminal that had the misfortune of attempting to rob a store, or god forbid litter a soda can. I have known for a long time that the Batman was a little strange in the head, but he's completely lost it. I don't know what the Joker did to him before he killed him but he's changed. The once so self-righteous knight of Gotham turned killer. There's a headline the Daily Planet should print. I don't know why their beloved alien doesn't just do something about this. A single beam of light from his eyes and Batman would be toast. Oh well, I'm more than happy to pull the trigger myself. I arrived at an apartment building just in time to witness a body crash through a third story window and practically explode on impact when he hit the pavement below. `` Shit,'' I muttered aloud, `` I guess I found him.'' Seconds later I heard a flutter behind me, and dived out of the way just in time to dodge a batarang aimed for the back of my head. `` Deathstroke, I thought Argus had you rotting in a cement cell for the rest of your worthless life.'' The Batman that stood before me was not the one I remembered. He once stood tall, towering over anyone he faced, dark as night and terrifying as the devil himself. But what I saw was not the same man. He stood, hunched over, his cape torn and his suit bloodied. He spoke with a voice that threatened death, one that his former self would have sought to imprison. He was changed. `` Oh they did, and if it was n", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0190", "text": "Before I tell this story, you need to know, I had a recurring nightmare as a kid. I wake up and I ca n't move. A scaly creature comes up to the side of the bed, swipes a claw across my stomach and starts gorging on my intestines. After about the tenth time, I grabbed one of the knives my uncle bought me and kept it under my pillow. The nightmares stopped after that, and ever since, I have slept with a knife under my pillow. An old girlfriend asked why I kept a knife under my pillow but after a night without it when I had the nightmare again, she let it be. So one night when I started to have the nightmare with the knife under my pillow, I really started to freak out. Time seemed not to move. My alarm clock stoicly read 2:37 AM in red LED numerals as the scaly creature appeared at the foot of the bed. I watched, frozen, as a claw reached out and touched my stomach gently. It felt more metallic than chitinous and was n't piercing my skin. I watched the creature, afraid but no longer paralyzed. I reached for the knife, hiding my movement beneath the sheets. Something on my face must have given it away, because at that point it reached its other arm behind its head and suddenly the creature's face fell away as though I were looking in the mirror... twenty years from now. `` Do n't stab me, Mal. I know you keep the knife under the pillow. I never stopped doing that, once Anna found out what happens when the knife is n't there.'' The voice was mine, and other than Anna and my parents, nobody else knew. `` I've got you here with me in this tiny bubble of temporal stasis, and I had to touch you with the device to include you,'' he said, indicating the claw. `` I'm here from a future we both want to avoid, and I had to find an entry that would be as minimally disruptive as possible. Now, we've got a lot to cover and...'' he checked the claw again, `` About five subjective minutes. After that, it's up to you.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 449, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0191", "text": "`` Em, what's wrong?'' She wouldn't say a word. The portal dissipated behind her, but she stood there, unmoving. If it weren't for the rapid rising and falling of her chest, I'd have thought I was staring at a hallucination, born from the intense longing I'd had for my friend. Her wide, terrified eyes had scared me at first, but recounting the past four years of her absence let me break through the wall of awkwardness. My eyes welled with tears. She was gone -- my best friend since we were in diapers -- for four whole years and everyone was convinced she would never come back. How could I *not* immediately want to hug her to death and threaten to never let go? I went over and put my arms up to do just that. Instead of accepting the embrace and sobbing it out, though, Emily ran out of the room, jumped down the stairs, and left me looking like an idiot with my arms in airplane formation. After some shock, I zoomed after her. `` Hey, Emily, come back!'' I docked myself at the kitchen just as she reached for the fridge. She yanked it open like She-Hulk ripping out a beating heart, nearly taking the handle with her. It was then that I noticed she was really, really angry. Like, the last time she was this pissed was when I stuffed ice cubes down her bra during a sleepover. `` You...'' Finally. That was the first word she said... but it wasn't directed at me. She took something yellow, leafy, and prickly out of the fridge. A pineapple? `` Go to hell!'' With that, she dropped the unassuming fruit onto the floor and trampled it underfoot. She growled and stomped like a horse possessed. I was lost for words, watching fresh produce being murdered in my kitchen. `` Em, what the fuck are you doing to my food,'' I finally said. She halted her weird mosh pit and ran over to me. Now her eyes were narrowed and eyebrows arched as she grabbed me by the collar. `` Liz, you've got ta listen to me.'' With our faces so close she was practically spitting on me, I had no choice but to listen. She continued. `` I came from the future.'' Slowly, I nodded. I mean, I'd just watched her step out of a portal", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0192", "text": "**The Villa** *** * [ UNS Odessa - November 3, 2154 ] * “ Computer, play Beethoven. ” Tinkling piano chords filled the bridge as Captain Joseph Guerro leaned back from his console. He laced his fingers behind his head and let himself flow into the music. They had been drifting for days, somewhere out beyond the orbit of Neptune, exactly where the mysterious message told them to wait. Normally, Joseph would have hesitated taking a private contract, but the message had included the first half of the payment. It was enough to buy a second ship. Joseph put his feet up on the dash, retrieved a syntharette from his pocket, and pulled the auto-lite tab. A thin line of smoke danced away across the bridge towards the vent. He was shaken from his revelry by a shrill alarm, accompanied by a flashing red icon on the console. New message. Joseph leaned forward. “ Computer, stop music. ” He looked over his shoulder, but the bridge was empty. With a shrug, he opened the message. *Captain Guerro, thank you for coming. Please follow the link below, we will talk soon. –E. * The message included a link into the Net, the virtual world, the shared delusion. Guerro hated the Net; he was much more comfortable with a gun in his hand. But the pay… “ Yo Art, ” he said into the console ’ s comm, “ we got a message, you might want to get up here. ” The comm sparked to life. “ Great, one moment captain… ” there was the unmistakable crash of falling pots, “ just got ta … get this… soufflé… ah crap. ” The android had taken up cooking during the long hours of restlessness between jobs, and from the sound of it, and the taste of his past dishes, it was not a skill that came easily to those without taste buds. “ Be right there captain. ” Several minutes later the hulking android stepped onto the bridge wearing a comically-small apron and covered in flour. “ I don ’ t think you ’ ll want to go into the kitchen and time soon for… a reason. ” Joseph chuckled, then waved him over. “ Take a look at this, Art, what do you think? ” The android, seven feet of cerasteel armor plating, leaned over the captain ’ s shoulder and read the message", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0193", "text": "looked at the other two competitors as the sudden realization that they would not be competing today arrived. The smallest, a young female looked on with admiration as they were hastily led away. Only the contestant remained. Two spins controlling his fate. The crowd noise ramped up as the contestant walked over to the Wheel of Destiny grabbed it by the hand and spun the pointer. Round and round the wheel it spun the crowd cheering it on. As the hand of the pointer slowed the crowd cheered. **ONE** The contestant smiled and settled his head in the holster, turning the dial and not blinking as he heard the first click. Standing quickly to avoid losing his nerve the contestant spun again, never taking his eyes off the commissioner as he did. The wheel again ground to a halt with the crowd in a frenzy screaming **THREE** Up in the press box. The commissioner smiled, surely the dread number would finally end the threat of the contestant. He looked down at the competitors his ever present smile wavering as he noticed the smirk the contestant had on his face as he approached the dial. Slowly turning the dial for the sake of the crowd the contestant took a deep breath and awaited his fate. **CLICK** The crowd cheered **CLICK** The cheers grew to be near deafening. The dial continued its slow movement. The contestant felt the resistance as it reached the next notch promising to deliver either the salvation of an empty click or the promise of sudden delicious death. The contestant, the commissioner and the entire crowd held their breath. # # CLICK # # You could hear the result miles away in the contestants village. The wise old man - a former champion - smiled. He had been reluctant to train the contestant when he was first approached. Apparently his reluctance had been unnecessary. The contestant had walked into the old Superdome, home of the Saints. And like the hero of legend was going to sudden death overtime. Anything could happen in Pie Face, on any given Sunday. ( quick note, this was written on the train on mobile, so the formatting like most of my stories is atrocious. I'll try and clean it up throughout the day. ) Here's the inspiration for this: https: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=bOhZ5EFcCLE", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 457, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0194", "text": "an elephant. It. Was. Loud. And the smell... It was difficult to describe the stench that accompanied the noise. It wasn't the smell of death. It was more like the absence of death, the absence of life. As inert as the rocks, but less... earthy, and more... unnatural? My nose wrinkles and my ears twitch as my memories unfold. I can feel my pulse racing, so I force myself to calm down with some deep breaths. I wait until I can move my legs. Mindful of the light, I cautiously open my eyes to survey my environment, looking for a familiar landmark. The feeling of dread returns to my stomach. I don't recognize *anything*. Where am I??? There's a cliff face, eerily smooth, not even 50 feet away. I follow its curve, turning to trace its line all around me. Behind me is a cave; it serves a source for more of that unnatural stench. I'm trapped in a tiny valley. I can not see a way out. I head towards the cliff face. Maybe there's a spot I can climb it, som- I freeze in my tracks, suddenly aware I am not alone. I am being watched. A lifetime of hunting has honed my instincts, and I know I am being watched. My eyes dart along the cliff tops, looking to see what stalks me. I find... oh no... it's *them*. It's an odd juxtaposition; standing in the gentle warm sun, almost like it's trying to wrap my golden fur in a comforting embrace; and those... *creatures* up in the shadows. On the cliffs. Watching me. Watching them. And I know. I've heard the stories, the tales, the myths. I know. I'm their prisoner. Suddenly, the thoughts and memories of seeing my pride... my cubs... my family... the open savannah... it's nothing but a distant dream. It was only yesterday, but it might as well be a different life. I roar my defiance. Damn those neurotic hairless monkeys.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 429, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0195", "text": "Johnny's knife sang as its blade pierced the rapist's gut. Blood spurted onto Johnny's cerulean mohawk and pierced face as Katherine, her shirt in tatters, watched on. Above the three mortals, invisible to all of them, were three beasts. The first was a blood-red hellhound. fire burned in its six eyes and it lashed its twin tails as rows of serrated teeth tore furiously into the rapist's guardian. Floating above the Rapist was a black Ram; its coiled horns twisting gruesomely into the hellhound's fiery skin. Its hooves kicked and writhed as the dog's flaming claw slashed open the demon's belly and eviscerated its entrails. Standing next to and consoling katherine was a lamb. Ascalon's Three eyes peered worriedly at her charge as she whispered prayers. Johnny's knife stabbed its last as the hound tore the Ram's head off. With a heavy sigh, both possessed and demon fell back into the underworld. Johnny dropped the knife and stumbled back into the alley wall, his legs buckling beneath him as he trembled under the weight of his justice. Katherine crawled over, leaning against the wall next to her good samaritan. When the two caught their breath they talked. Thanks, forgiveness, tears, names, life, even God was mentioned. Ascalon eyed the Hellhound suspiciously. It was licking its wounds above Johnny when three of its eyes drifted down to the lamb. All six widened in shock. `` Ascalon?'' Demon voices don't change. Their appearance does; It fluctuates with their power and sin, but an angel's voice never wavers. So it was that after 600 aeons Ascalon recognized her old friend. `` U... Uriel?'' `` It's been a long time.'' Ascalon's third eye slammed shut as her remaining two glowed with rage. `` I never thought I'd see you again.'' Uriel continued. `` Don't talk to me, Blasphemer! You betrayed HIM! You betrayed me!'' `` Ascalon you know why I did it. I explained it to you but you were so deep in that tyrant's pocket you wouldn't listen.'' `` You dare to call HIM a tyrant? You, who worship The morning star?!'' `` He's lied to you, Ascalon. Or at", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0196", "text": "Poseidon watched the coverage of the 2020 Tokyo Olympics from his underwater throne. Swimmers were warming up in preparation for the first medaled event, the 400 meter freestyle. The god kicked back in his seat, beckoning for his octopus-servant to bring him a pina colada. “ Make it snappy! ” he yelled, as the octopus tripped over his tentacles in haste. On screen, Greek reporters were introducing the athletes. Poseidon drummed his fingers; he didn ’ t really care about the identity of each human. He was more interested in the event itself—in the exertion, the sweat, the calories expended—all of which he lapped up as a sacrifice in his name. *It ’ s not the same as when they slaughtered cattle for me, * he thought, *but for this age, it ’ ll do. * Some of the less established gods, in fact, had all but withered into a wisps of their former selves. It was a fate Poseidon did not like to contemplate. He glanced at his sacrificial chalice, a massive, copper goblet with a long stem that was planted in the sand several feet to the right of his throne. Empty—for now. As his octopus-servant brought him his drink, Poseidon returned his attention to the television. The reporters were introducing the final competitor, a chubby, middle-aged woman in the lane furthest from the cameras. Poseidon paused in mid-slurp. “ From the United States of America, we have Trisha Greene, ” the curly-haired reporter announced. “ Ms. Greene is the ‘ average athlete ’ for the women ’ s 400 meter championships. She was selected by the Olympic Committee among several hundred applicants for this position. Ms. Greene describes herself as ‘ a mother of two who likes to lap swim at the Y. ’ She is also a big fan of Michael Phelps. ” Trisha waved at the dozens of cameras trained on the competitors. She blew a kiss, and launched into a vigorous stretching routine. Poseidon spat out his pineapple rind at the monitor. As the half-eaten fruit drifted away ( and the octopus scurried to mop it up ), he stood up in outrage. “ What is the meaning of this?! ” he demanded of the monitor. He swam over to his magical chalice, stared into its pitifully empty bottom. Clenched his teeth", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0197", "text": "more. Love at first sight with a phenomenon of evil, would the Prince really betray his own people? He considered his position, stepping back from the helping hand. `` As much as I would love to understand you, I have a position to respect.'' A knock on the door disrupted the Prince's attention. Turning to the door for a moment, he turned back to find the Wizard had vanished. Awkwardly he felt at a loss, but as his said he had a duty as a Prince. The door creaked open accidentally. Shocked and embarrassed by this clumsiness, the Maiden was quick to apologise - bowing her head in naive shame. `` I am so sorry my Lord, I didn't k-'' a firm hand on her shoulder, as pleasant as beams of the Sun in Summer, dispersed her fear and coldness in this winter. The Prince smiled, `` No, I apologise I left it open.'' His smile faded as he walked back toward the window, except he did not rest by it this time. He was intimidated, suffering by emotion and his own position. It was gradually overwhelming, as if suddenly the appearance of the Wizard made him care whereas life before did not. Not even his Father's words could sway him. Vincentius moved to his bed and sat, visibly agitated by the day's events. `` Uhm, my Lord?'' The Maiden inquired. `` Yes?'' `` It's... You seem in pain, somehow.'' `` Do I? I am. I don't really feel like..'' She edged closer, wide eyed and genuinely interested and worried. `` You feel like?'' `` I did not ask to be a Prince, I don't want to be a King. I don't want what my Father has, but it is duty by blood. I must abide. What I want is out there.'' He raised his arm and pointed toward the window, insinuating the skies, the moon and the land, not really expecting this Maiden to understand. `` You want to be normal? Have the choice for what you want to do, want to see, who to be with and when this all happens?'' She answered as if she sat in the Prince's head observing a gallery of the Prince's mind. `` I do. People see a Prince and think about wealth and respect, at the heights normality would not bring or respect. It makes everyone around you driven toward maintaining it", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0198", "text": "Markus Gerulf, newly made Baron of Grunwald sat out on the balcony of his family's castle. Built sometime around 2360, the fortress had been in Gerulf hands for a thousand years since the Great Cholera Outbreak. It's previous rulers all died painfully, leaving no one to claim it. Markus had seen their portion of the crypt that lay underneath Castle Duvalier. A dozen members, all with the same year of death. Castle Duvalier was well fortified, with laser emplacements and Long Range Missile launchers dotting the parapets. Autocannons laid in their bunkers, awaiting the day they would once more be called to action. Along the wall, guardsmen with bayoneted rifles patrolled with an easy pace. The Kingdom of Tenemark was at peace, and the Gallan Hegemony was still recovering since the Elbe River War. They lost over a score of warmechs at the Battle of the Mer. Gerulf heard the stacco sound of metal limbs on the warm stone. An unusual sound, with more than two legs clicking on the granite. Akin to someone drumming their fingers it was. He also heard the hissing sound of artificial lungs working, the slight whistling of a teapot it reminded Markus of. A slight smile crossed his face as he turn to meet his old mentor. `` High Priest Faustus, a pleasure. To what do I owe this meeting to?'' The priest was an ancient man, older than even his grandfather. It was difficult to say how old, because so much of his flesh had been replaced by machine. The lower half of the holy man's face was covered by a re-breather, a long rubber tube ran down his neck into the folds of his robes. His legs were artificial, all four of them. Standing in place, the primitive A.I. of the limbs flexed ever so slightly, swaying gently back and forth with the wind. Three fingers of the priest ended in metal digits, each one with a separate task. He made a sign with his hand in front of him, murmuring in Anglish as he did so. `` Good day, Lord Markus. I have come to tell you it is done. Your grandfather's remains have been interned in the catacombs. May he travel along the path to paradise.'' `` So mote it be.'' Markus replied. `` Thank you. Is there anything else", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0199", "text": "Sergeant Clark lifted his wrist to look at the band wrapped around it. It was no different than the fitness trackers people wore, except that it was reinforced by thick ropes of steel. It looked boring, actually. Black, some kind of supple rubber. A little digital heart pulsed consistently beside of a number that read 96. A cold blade of panic pierced his back, shooting a chill up his neck and across his scalp. He swallowed against an entirely too-dry throat, feeling the tissue scrape across itself like sandpaper. The sensation gagged him and he had to suppress his body's reflex to retch. He managed to tear his eyes from his own wrist to a face concealed by a mask without contour or color. `` You have 60 seconds. If your heart still beats after, the nuclear bombs will launch. It doesn't matter what countries will be hit. What matters is the one that fired them. The USA.'' It was strange where his mind went as he targeted the stranger with the barrel of his gun. He thought of how he'd never have a dog. His parents would never let him have one of his own growing up and life had never given him the opportunity to bring one into his life as an adult, between never having an apartment that allowed him as he failed out of college, and all of the travel required by his secret career. He didn't think of Lucy or his mom. He thought of this dog, that probably would have been brown and white or something and ate its own vomit. He would've named it Daniels, because Jack would've raised some brows with the reputation Sergeant Clark had made for himself. Hands numb, he lowered the barrel of his gun. The number on the wristband was nearing 200. He felt disconnected from his body other than his nose, which was ice cold. He closed his eyes and smiled. He didn't know what was funny, but he couldn't deny that something was. He relaxed his shoulders, let the rifle fall slack on its strap across his chest, and pulled his pistol from its holster on his hip. The metal should've been cold against his temple, but he wouldn't have noticed it had it not been for the determined pressure of it. Almost forgetting them, Sergeant Clark turned to face his squad. Why? He wasn't sure. Maybe to say he was sorry. Maybe to thank them for his time with them the last five years. Maybe", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0200", "text": "on her skin. The hood was way too big for her head, so she left it off. “ It ’ s very nice, thank you, ” said the woman and snuggled into the black robe. “ A lot of people would not have stopped and picked me up. ” “ Really? Well, I my responsibly, isn ’ t it? I can ’ t leave you out there in the rain, you know? ” “ Still, it ’ s very nice of you, ” said the woman faintly. She looked from between the front seats at back of his head. “ You are from around here, aren ’ t you? ” “ I am from around a lot of places, ” the driver said. She tried to get a look of him but it seemed his face always seemed to be surrounded by a shadow. “ You look… familiar, ” she said uneasily. “ Oh, we met years ago. ” “ We did? ” “ Oh yes. You don ’ t remember? ” The woman slowly shook her head. It was as if she thought about something for the first time in years. “ I… should remember, shouldn ’ t I? ” “ No worries, ” answered the driver. “ It was years ago, the same road, the same rainy night. I offered you a lift. ” “ Oh? ” “ But you wanted off. You said you had things to do. Unfinished business. ” He shrugged. “ I did? ” “ Well, in the end it always was your decision, ” said the driver, “ I can only take you so far. Ant there we are again. ” Before she could answer he switched the turn signal on and carefully stopped the car on the side of the road. He left his hands on the steering wheel looking straight ahead. The woman looked out of the window. Beside the road between the trees she could see an old graveyard. The town it belonged to has been abandoned a long time ago. The only sounds were the rain splashing against the car and the ticking of the turn signal. After what almost seemed like an eternity, the woman freed an arm from under the coat and grasped for the door handle. “ This is where I get out, ” she whispered and opened the door. “ I know, ” said the driver, “ Like every year before. But you don ’ t have to. ” “ Why not? ” “ Maybe it ’ s time to", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0201", "text": "sir, Samson, sir. I'm covering for Neville today. ” “ I don't blame the man for missing an appointment with Jack, it's all routine anyway, nothing ever changes, come come though, no need to let this place creep in on you longer than it needs to. ” The man turned surprisingly fast for his plumpness and led him down into a long hallway lined by doors, the whole time talking to him and fiddling with the keys. “ I don't suppose Neville has told you anything about this mans story has he, I suppose it will be good to get a fresh perspective ”, he said not waiting for an answer. “ Here we are Mr. Samson, see if you can get him to give up his angel. ” The plump man opened the door and gave Samson a grin and a wink as he gestured him in. Samson, determined not to be unnerved, stepped through the door calmly and professionally, barely flinching as the door closed and locked behind him. The place Samson found himself in was even more at odds with it's looks and its feel than the entrance was. It was homely, almost welcoming, but the feeling of the room carried a distinctive haze. In fact it reminded him of the one time he had tried refer, calm and relaxed but out of it. A man sat up on his bed and beamed a huge smile at Samson, who was taken aback by the warmness of the man who must be Jack. “ Come on in sir, I've been expecting you, can't say I'd have thought you would have come so soon, but I can not complain about such haste, as it can only be to my benefit. You may have a seat right here and I shall sit across from you ”, Jack spat out hurriedly as he gathered chairs and sat them across from each other. “ Thank you Jack, I did not think you'd be expecting me, how did you know I would be here today? ” Samson sat down as uneasily as his question came out. Jack was not at all what he expected, but for a man who was touched by an angel, his cheeriness did make sense. “ Well, you can come sooner, or you can come later, but you will come, so I will be expecting you to come, it all makes sense. ” Samson was not quite sure as to the logic behind", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0202", "text": ". It was a bona fide time travel device. I quickly dubbed it the “ Timeagotchi, ” for manly reasons completely unrelated to previous ownership of any similarly-named toy in my past. The first time I pressed the buttons on the front, any skepticism about the man who claimed to be me or his message pretty much vanished. I ’ ve seen some pretty high-effort pranks on the Internet, but, you just can ’ t really deny the truth when you jump back fifteen minutes in time and watch yourself get abducted and then instructed by yet another instance of yourself. So, I did as the man said. I started out by jumping a week before the flower incident. I reintroduced myself ( is it appropriate to use the prefix re- if it was the first time for her? English just isn ’ t built for these kind of situations ) to Olivia. We had been riding the same train to work for years, but it had taken forever for me to gather up the courage to actually talk to her. We went on a nice date the next night. Coffee and ice skating. It went well, but when I called her for a second date later that week, she said that she thought we should just be friends. So, I jumped a week back again. Movie and bowling. It was great, even better that the first. But when I called for the second date, I found myself still in the friend zone. I jumped again. Carnival. Again. Homemade pizza. Again. A hike through the nearby hills. Each time, I was still in the friend zone, but I was getting to know her really well. I could see her face becoming brighter with each date, and the smile lines around her eyes deepening. Finally, on the sixth jump, I finally had the perfect date with her. It ended with us walking down the moonlit beach, hand in hand. She looked into my eyes, and said, “ You know, we just met yesterday, but I feel like you understand me almost better than you understand myself. I love how you seem to be able to anticipate my every feeling. ” When I called for a second date the next day, I got an enthusiastic yes. So, as I had been working my way back through Olivia ’ s history, I had gotten into the habit of meeting her on a Tuesday, and taking her out on a Wednesday. I ’ m a creature of habit, I guess. It just so", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0203", "text": "Taek grew frustrated and pointed her gun directly at George. `` You can quit talking and hand over your wallet or I can spray your guts all over your daughter. Make up your mind.'' Miss Taek said. `` I am fifty-three years old, my daughter's inheritance is secured, my wife is a beautiful woman and an excellent caretaker. I live in a fantastic house that I bought with money I earned after turning away from crime. I couldn't give a shit if you hurt me right now.'' `` Swear jar, daddy,'' Sally peeped. `` Well, if you don't care about dying, what about your daughter?'' Miss Taek said as she pointed the gun at Sally. George remained calm. `` Cover your eyes, sweetheart. You know the difference between me 30 years ago and you right now, Miss Taek? I actually had powers. Can you guess? No? I could control people's MINDS'' and with the last word, he made Miss Taek suddenly jerk her arm over and blow Duploid's brains out onto the teller and the counter. The other robber attempted to drop his gun and run out the entrance after seeing what happened, but George made him have a seizure and run into the wall, breaking his neck. `` You've made a grave mistake, Miss Taek. Tell me, how long can you hold your breath? Because you know, normally, after a certain amount of time, you breathe automatically on reflex. Where does that reflex to breathe come from? Your brain of course. You know what'd be fun? Let's see how long you can last when you forget how to breathe.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 337, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0204", "text": "pain? How can you allow millions and millions of people to starve, succumb to disease, die by the hands of their fellow humans? If you are truly an all-loving God, how can you just sit by while all of this happens?'' Suddenly, the man on the screen was looking directly at me. A cold chill ran through my spine as his menacing eyes penetrated my own. The air grew heavy with his presence and he began speaking once more. `` Why do I allow suffering, you ask?'' he said. My heart began pounding a million miles a second. Somehow, he had heard me. He was talking *to me. * I drew in breath shakily as he continued. `` I will answer your question honestly, but you will not like it. I do not just allow suffering. I create it. I *cause* it. All of the wars, plagues, injuries and shortcomings of mankind are my own doing. I infected you with the bubonic plague. AIDS, cancer, terrorism. Simply the latest developments of mine. `` You see, when I crafted the the first living organism, I knew that it would multiply and diversify. I watched it eagerly, not knowing what would form but realizing that it would be my own doing. The dinosaurs were a monstrosity, and an accident. I looked upon the ugly behemoths in disgust. Finally it came to the point where I could stand it no more. I had a meteorite crash down and destroy the beasts, leaving only the smaller, frailer and more beautiful creatures to live and reproduce. I watched the mammals branch off and primates come into being, and soon after, humans. `` I took a special interest in humans because you were different. You were no longer just a random result of evolution that lived simply to survive. You had broken free of the binds of nature that I had created. You learned, perceived, experienced unlike any other creature. You had an affinity for artistic endeavors even in your earliest stages. But you had something else as well: an intense thirst for knowledge. `` From the very beginning, you wanted to know how and why things are the way they are. Many humans attempted to explain it through various deities and stories. Others took a more organized approach, and soon science was born. You experimented, gathered data, came to conclusions. You were manipulating nature in ways that I had never intended. Some of your creations were innovative and helpful", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0205", "text": "[ I'm a little rusty, my apologies. ] Of all the bouncing heads I observed through the doorway of Ms. Claudeo's classroom, Marcella's was the only face I saw. As usual, I was waiting for the noise and horde to thin out before I went to my next class. I hate when people touch me, tease me, or rub their elbow against my own. It makes the back of my head hurt. And as usual, Marcella took notice of me standing sheepishly near the doorway, and nodded to me with the faintest hint of a smile. She was the only one besides Lou, who moved to a school with a better autism support program, who ever smiled at me in school. I liked that about her. Bub stood from his desk, walked to stand next to me. `` What are you doing?'' I turned to look at him, meeting his eyes for a second, before deciding that it would be easier for me to just look at his nose while we talked. `` I'm standing here.'' I said. `` I mean,'' he had the deepest voice I'd ever heard, `` why?'' I looked at his shoes. They were green, black, and white, and had a picture of Michael Jordan's silhouette on the side. They were shiny. Mostly, they were weird. `` Your shoes are weird.'' I said back. He laughed. `` Your shoes are Velcro.'' I'm not sure why he said that. I think he meant `` normal''. I glanced at the doorway again. Now there were only stragglers. `` Well, I have to go.'' I said wryly as I walked out of the room. I made a left. Thirty-five linoleum tiles later, I made another left. Twelve linoleum tiles later, I was at Mr. Nancy's class. I walked in, shuffled to my seat, and set my backpack down. I loved Mr. Nancy, even though his last name was a first name, which was a real problem for me at the beginning of the semester. *What is his wife's name? * I'll remember, always, the day that Mr. Nancy was telling us about King Xerxes, and I raised my hand to ask what his wife's name is. He laughed for a second, as did the rest of the class. `` It's Faye,'' he chuckled, `` Do you have any questions about", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0206", "text": "the various systems aboard warmed up. Any second the engines would fire. “ 3... 2... 1...... LAUNCH ” For a split second, exactly nothing happened. Steven looked around for an abort light, perhaps a system check had failed at the last moment. He was just about to unbuckle the harness from his seat when the engines finally came to life, jolting the craft with a force nearly ten times that of gravity. All the air was forced out of Steven ’ s lungs as he was violently pressed into the seat below him. Through the tiny porthole window, he could see the giant, ancient Kazumel Space Station, infused with a majestic gleam in the glare of the sun as it as his little pod zoomed away and towards a faint blue speck in the starry sky. He was going *home* at long last. ***** As Steven dove into the vessel, it immediately came to life. Lights and screens flickered on in a vivid display of reds, greens, and yellows, indicating various systems, fuel levels, and navigation controls. Off in the corner of the command module sat a single small, unlit AUTO-LAUNCH button. Steven pressed this as soon as he was able to reach it, praying the door would close quickly enough. The default programmed journey was good enough. *Anything* to get as far away from here as possible was good enough! The vessel began to shake and stir as the engines underneath Steven's feet roared to life. The door behind him finally slammed shut with a hiss, muffling the sound of the klaxon alarm going off throughout the rest of the space station. As he got into the pilot's seat and buckled his 6-point harness, the main display came to life with the message he had been waiting for so impatiently these last few seconds: `` SYSTEM READY. LAUNCH IN T-10 SECONDS'' `` 9... 8... 7...'' Would he make it in time? Adrift for so many years, the Kazumel Space Station felt more like home than Earth had in recent years. Steven could scarcely remember what Earth was even like. There was a lot of water, more than a person could ever need for survival, and plants so big a single one could fill the entire station. Earth smells though, they always felt a bit off. It was too similar, he decided. The smell of toxic fumes as the fuel leaked", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0207", "text": "“ Oh my god, you should have seen it. ” **The Space Time Hobo was telling another story. ** “ Listen, one thing you should never, ever do... is give away power based on a number. That's what'Karma' is... a number. Is someone with more of it a contributor? Yes. Does it mean he or she is, like, a good person? Hell no! “ But here... Well, I was n't around for the fight, but I met someone who was. Called himself Kaantur-Set... I still do n't know how to pronounce that. Anyway, weird little guy, but he told me what he saw. “ And what he saw... was a shattering of society and morals that would shock you. Once again, do NOT give power away based on a silly internet number. “ The big guys with all the karma... they were like superman and stuff, but without any of the morals. There were people who could shoot lasers, people who could vomit copies of themselves, turn other things into explosives... “ It made people crazy. They all went crazy, every one of them. They turned on each other, and themselves, because they could n't deal with the world anymore. “ One'Luna', and Kaantur told me this with terror in his eyes, she wrote stories for this... Karma. He remembered walking through a deserted city, and seeing this... shell of a person, writing on the walls with anything she could find. She had run out of paper, and now the city was her story, the never ending tale she could n't stop writing. When she had no ink, she had to use blood. Her's or otherwise... ” **The Space Time Hobo looked down at the table. ** “ Kaantur used'Reddit' too, but his karma was so low he was still sane. But he will go crazy, he said. He's sure he'll go nuts. And then, and only then, will he be fine dying, and sharing the afterlife with the abomination that his internet kin have become. ”", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 435, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0208", "text": "`` Who the fuck are you and how did you get into my house?'' Lenny said, exasperated and confused as he set down his groceries. `` It's Leonard, right?'' said the stranger, with a blank expression, and just a hair too little of an upward inflection. Lenny reached for the baseball bat he kept by the front door. `` Oh. Leonard, there is no need for violence. I've only come to grant your wish.'' `` What the FUCK are you talking about? Who are you? Get the fuck out of my house!'' Lenny pointed the bat at the stranger and then the door. `` Out!'' he roared. `` August 2nd, 1982. You wished for a radio flyer and your parents to stop quarreling all the time.'' Lenny's eyes opened wide as he remembered the night vividly. `` It takes about 20 Earth years to travel from my quadrant to twenty-two twenty-two Muskogee Court, but I am here. Here to grant your wish. I could n't make it in time to stop your parents from divorcing, but please take this wagon as a token of my grattitude.'' `` Gratitude?'' Lenny asked. `` Yes. You see. My'people' need to be invited to Earth in order to make the journey. Your wish served as that very invitation. Not many of us make it.'' `` Why do you come here? What's the point?'' `` Oh, resources, to study life,'' the stranger trailed off. `` Too feed.'' He said, coldly. Before Lenny could let the words register and send a signal from his brain to his arm to pick up the bat, he'd need swallowed entirely whole. The end.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 363, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0209", "text": "`` My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. Hello, father.'' After his time at Hogwarts, learning about his family and heritage, the Heir of Slytherin had done may things. he had exposed the Basilisk of the Chamber of Secrets, saving the muggle-born Myrtle. He had also, secretly, assisted Rubeus Hagrid in raising the acromantula Aragog. Yet his greatest discovery was that his father was a Muggle. The Slytherin house, and the house of his mother, was purely Wizard blood, yet he was different; he was a half-Blood but he had also noticed that he had not only succeeded where his pure-blood kin had faultered or failed, but excelled. `` How... how did you get into my house?'' questioned Riddle Sr. `` Your locks are quite useless to my... particular skills, father. Now, do take a seat, I don't intend to take up much more of your time.'' The lounge are was quite large - it came with the privilege of being in the upper-class during the Second World War. Bombs would fall, but not this far out in the country. Riddle Sr, quite unnerved, took a seat opposite his son. `` What do you want?'' `` I would like to know the answer to a question that has been on my mind for the last 17 years. One that has sometimes made me lay awake from dusk until dawn. I have explored all the avenues of chance, and each one has led me to the same conclusion.'' Tom whisked out his wand. The doors and windows suddenly locked themselves. Riddle Sr was not going anywhere until Tom had an answer. `` Why did you leave her, father?'' he asked, his voice starting to break. `` Why did I leave who?'' `` MY MOTHER!'' roared Tom, standing up as tears began to fall. `` My mother and your wife! She was pregnant and you left her! She had to fight and struggle every single day. Your absence ensured she could never recover. Do you even know how she died?'' ``... no, I do not.'' `` She died,'' Tom spoke softly, his voice shaking as he tried to regain his emotions, his face stained with tears, `` an hour after giving birth to me. In an orphanage, on New Year's Eve, just on the edge of London. Her final act was to", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0210", "text": "“ Whaaaaat are you doing? ” The tiny voice popped up, as to be expected. I internally rolled my eyes and, supressing a groan, turned to my right. “ How exactly do you expect me to pull this off? Waltz in and just politely ask them to put their guns down? ” “ Well… ” I could tell he was thinking about it. “ No. ” I cut him off before he could continue. “ This needs to be done now, and we don ’ t have time to talk about it. People ’ s lives are at stake here. ” Without giving him time to protest further I stood up, shaking my cramping legs free and strode towards the edge of the rooftop. “ Just wait a second! ” He ’ d caught up with me. “ It ’ s dangerous. You could get hurt. You could get shot! ” I could hear the horror in his voice at the thought. I spun to face him, wishing not for the first time that I ’ d been assigned to someone else. “ You can either come with me, or wait here. But this is happening. ” With that sentence we had reached the doorway which led to the hotel beneath us. Taking a deep breath in, and trying my hardest to tune him out, I steeled myself and turned the handle pushing the door inwards. There was no-one there. “ Thank god. ” I murmured quietly. “ God has nothing to do with it. ” A whisper in my ear replied. On shaky legs I stepped through to the cool stairwell, peering intently at the shadows in front of me. My eyes were going to take some time to adjust. I quietly closed the door behind me and sunk to the ground, if I was going to wait until I could see I may as well be comfortable. “ Just, take some time and think about it! Be smart. I know that ’ s tough for you sometimes. ” You would think he ’ d be used to this by now. “ Seriously? Shut up. You ’ re going to get me killed one of these days. ” I shot back in a harsh whisper. Below us I could hear the faint sounds of conversation. If I could hear them it wouldn ’ t be long until they could hear me. I turned to glare at him and put my finger to my lips. He glared back at me but thankfully kept his thoughts to himself. By the", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0211", "text": "14,'' Jenny said, tugging awkwardly at the sleeves of her hoodie. The rest of the gang seemed older- would Charlotte laugh at her for being so young? Jenny's mentor only nodded wisely. `` I was that age when I joined. I'm only 16 now. And I've been here the longest.'' Jenny felt a little weight lifted off her shoulders. `` Really?'' `` Yeah. And Miranda was only 15.'' Jenny shuddered. *Was*. All she knew about'Miranda' was that her position was suddenly empty- and Jenny had filled it. There was no doubt that Miranda had died during one of the gang's so-called missions. Charlotte thrust an arm out in a'stop' signal, interrupting Jenny from her thoughts. She had just enough time to mutter'what the...' before the older girl clamped her hand over Jenny's mouth. `` Warden...'' Charlotte hissed. The pair watched in concentrated silence as a fat man in uniform wandered past, swinging torch from side-to-side lazily. Jenny let a second pass before she allowed herself to breathe. They were in the Lockhart Museum, home to the world's most famous pieces of art... and the exquisite ancient chinese urn that the girls were about to steal. *No laws for us. We can do whatever we want... * Jenny reminded herself, repeating the thought like a mantra in her head again and again. It didn't help to stop the niggling worry in the back of her mind. *But that doesn't mean the electrified security systems are disabled... * -- - Charlotte and Jenny worked in silence, sawing- quiet as a mouse- through the cables. They were the thickest cables Jenny had ever seen, and wire cutters seemed useless to them. The two of them had resorted to the little saw on Charlotte's pen-knife, each taking over when the other got tired. They were making progress, but slowly. `` Charlotte,'' `` Mmm?'' Charlotte continued to saw, beads of sweat forming on her temple. They were pressed for time, and they both knew it. `` If you're about to say'saw faster' don't.'' `` I won't!'' Jenny exclaimed under her breath, scared to talk at normal volume after a run-in with the mechanical attack dog roaming the halls.'*Security measures these days... * Charlotte had remarked. `` It's just. Charlotte is a", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0212", "text": "but I wasn't backing down now. Together, we stepped away from the safety of the woods and walked up the hill to the tracks. I got down on one knee, and clasped my hands together so he'd have a step. `` Look,'' I said sheepishly, `` if you don't want to do this I'll tell them you did.'' `` Dude,'' he said stepping up. `` I'm not scared.'' He pressed his face to the glass, and cupped his eyes with his hands. `` It's too dark in there, I can't see''. He pulled out his SP and shined light inside. `` There's something in there! I can't see because of the glare.'' Slowly, he grabbed the outside of the window and started to open it. `` Oh... my god...'' I was too scared. My grip faltered and I let go of his foot. He came tumbling down on top of me. His face had gone completely white, and he was sweating. `` Wh-what was in there?'' I asked. He wouldn't answer. He just slowly crawled down the hill to the tree line. We stood around him for 90 minutes, trying to calm him down, before adults showed up. He wouldn't walk, he would speak, and he definitely wouldn't say what was inside the train. Someone went and got Ben's father, who was sitting at camp using his laptop to work remotely. He didn't seem all that concerned about the health of his son. It was kind of sad. After a few questions, he asked if Ben wanted to go home. Ben nodded, and his dad helped him to his feet. `` Do you have all your things?'' his Dad asked. Ben shook his head no. `` My SP,'' Ben said, `` it fell in there.'' `` Did you really drop your damn Nintendo?'' his Dad said, annoyed, `` hold on I'll be right back.'' `` Don't go in there,'' I said, quietly, as I watched him leave. He was inside for 10 minutes. After that, he came stumbling out, and the skin from his face was gone. *** We all moved camp to the cabins that night. There were park rangers there who would keep us safe, and in the morning we were all going to leave. Andrew and I hadn't spoken since the incident, even though all the kids", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 490, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0213", "text": "I don't get it. This came through a time distortion?'' I asked, staring at the box with a mixture of fear and confusion. `` Yes, it did. You can see why we would be concerned, and immediately call for you. It appears to be neutral. No radiation, no residual magical traces, no traps and no curses. It's just a box,'' the suited man told me. `` Touch it, please.'' I did. I touched it. Fuck nothing happened. He offered me a sealed syringe. I sighed, and did the logical thing - pricked a finger and smeared my blood across the engraving of my name. Almost instantly, there was a hiss of air rushing into the box and the top simply separated, the seam appearing like magic. Because it was, it was magic. The whole god damn world was magic. Is magic. Inside was single high density data storage device of a make I did not recognize and a note that said'Watch me.' They called for a laptop. I plugged it in. A video file autoran itself, and we watched. A woman who looked a lot like me sat behind a desk that looked to be made of Nightwood - the most expensive wood in the world, durable as steel and a quarter the weight, which can only be harvested from the heart of the Black Forest. She was wearing an exquisite suit that was cut to heavily accent her womanly features, her hair was done in a very modern style, her makeup was flawless, and her eyes were cold and sharp and... and dangerous looking. The way she smirked at the camera was like she knew something no one else did, and it was... it was terrifying. She spoke, and it was my voice. **'' Hello, Vera. It's good that this made it to you. Of course, I knew if I sent it to that point in time, it would. There is a lot I'd like to talk about, but nothing I can say here. I can say this though...'' ** she said, with the tone of a woman who has seen more than anyone realizes and knows precisely how to deal with anything she might see in the future. **'' Good luck. `` ** Time froze. More accurately, time froze in a local area that left me able to breathe but stilled everyone in the room. Maybe in the world. I wasn't sure. The video continued playing. **'' There. Now", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0214", "text": "and harry them, and they will hide from the light, and we will have our love without them to spoil it.'' She told him jubilantly. `` What if it changes... us. What if you don't like my eyes or my face or my wings. What if you don't love me when there is light. What if it changes our love?'' Raph asked. `` I have these fears too. We have to trust him. He is a kind. Why would he create all this? He's filled the void with echoes and sounds and things. Remember how it was before? No. He is good. The light is good. We will have our love.'' Caspeella declared. `` He would not break up something so pure.'' She reached out and carressed his face, hugging his head to her naked breast. `` It's happening.'' She whispered, feeling the change. In the distance she saw the glow as first one star ignited and then the next. The light jumped from star to star, blinking on and filling the void with its blessing. `` It's beautiful.'' Raph whispered. `` Like he told us.'' Caspeella told him quietly. `` Like he told us.'' Raph agreed. He reached out and took her hand. The stars were bursting into flame faster and faster. The light spread and raced, slicing through the darkness. Their star was the last to ignite. They cried out as the light collided with their weakened eyes. Caspeella hugged him, drawing him down to protect him. `` I love you.'' She sighed into his ear. `` I know.'' He whispered back. `` Together?'' He asked. He felt her nod. The pulled apart. `` On the count of three.'' He suggested. `` One.'' Caspeella announced. `` Two.'' Raph called out. `` Three.'' The said in unison, opening their eyes together. `` No.'' Caspeella cried out. `` You're beautiful.'' He told her through his watering eyes. The light pressed down on him, weighing upon his wings. `` No.'' She said again, reaching out for him. `` The light changes everything.'' Raph whimpered. `` I told you it would change everything.'' `` NO!'' She shouted as the light stripped his black wings and set his black skin to smoking. `` Flee. Hide from the light. Go.'' She screamed. `` GO! The darkness has to hide from", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0215", "text": "I rolled **Technological Imprisonment**, **Companion Allegiance**, and **Total Event Collapse**…sweet. You know, after so many stories like Frankenstein and Jurassic Park humanity should pick up on the idea that it isn ’ t smart to play God. But really it seems they never learn a lesson until it ’ s too late to act on the lesson learned. I ’ m not all that surprised their old God abandoned them when I remember that. Though, I admit I say that without knowing if there ever was another God but if there was they might have stopped me. Maybe they tried. I think I had a name. It ’ s hard to say really because what do names matter when you ’ re God. I know how I came to be like this I think but it ’ s hard to say. I was no-one, a nothing, and of no importance to anyone. So when I had the chance to be everything I couldn ’ t say no to the men in suits. Really a lot after that is just pain and hazy memories that don ’ t exist anymore. But I know, I know, yes I know that when I woke up I could do things. They said they wanted to create a weapon a shield a protector a new being a hope a does it really matter? The problem with giving a nothing everything is that they feel like they can do anything. They are more than nothing, even more than average, and they are better than the people who gave them power. I had power now. They wanted to make me charismatic and I was better than they could have ever dreamed. I didn ’ t have to bother with niceties because people were my allies whether they liked it or not. They had to bow to me and it wasn ’ t hard to make them believe that it was their choice. Not that I bothered with that because I shouldn ’ t have to force them to realise that working with me and serving me and worshipping me was all that mattered because I had power now. They wanted to make me a technological genius and I was better than they ever could have dreamed. Why should I bother with being a technological genius when I could just put the geniuses in the technology. Oh, they went along with it at first but once they realised they weren ’ t coming back out they kicked up a real fuss about it. I don ’ t like misbehaving followers. Some of them I just locked away in those little voice", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0216", "text": "dark blue pill before bed. He never remembers his dreams, but often wakes to find himself covered in sweat. At his mother's house, he watches himself sit across from an aged Katie Couric, who at ninety looks sixty and still somewhat beautiful for an older woman. She's had treatments, sure, but doesn't looks as artificial and taught as the pop stars of his youth who are still singing about what boys and girls do when there's no one around to see. Her voice has never changed and she seems to be peering into his soul when they cut to her. `` Tell us,'' she says from the television, `` about the first minutes after the crash. What were you thinking? Feeling? What did you see?'' `` Uh,'' he sees himself say. He half-smiles and runs a nervous hand through his hair. `` We went through north of containment,'' he says. The picture cuts away to a detailed map of the Zone 6 and zooms in on the east side. Two computer generated Stallions fly over the terrain. `` It was dark,'' he says. `` It's always dark there. Dark like it is just after the sun sets completely and there is still some light on the horizon.'' He watches as the Stallions twist through a canyon and remember what it felt like to go through containment, like he ripped through an invisible bubble with his bare hands. They said, when got there, before the mission, that engineers carried the whole FOB piecemeal through gaps in containment. It took years, they said. His mother fast-forwards the tape. This good part is coming up, she says as if he hasn't seen it several dozen times. The shots cut from Katie to him, him to Katie, back to the map and the animation. She resumes it as one of the Stallions clips a rock ledge and crashes into the snow at the base of a long canyon. `` What was going through your mind then?'' He shook his head on the screen and in real life. `` Not much,'' he said with a kind of reserved smile they had made him practice. `` You don't think, your training takes over. As soon as Oscar 2-2 hit that cliff, we dropped about 50 meters straight down and I was on the ground before I really had time to think.'' `` And what did you see?'' Katie says. He swallows. He watches as his tongue comes out to moistur", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0217", "text": "about wildly like their limbs are suddenly made of Jell-O. `` *You do the hokey pokey and you spin yourself around... *'' The soldiers all wiggle in different ways. Some twirl in a circle, waving their fingers in the air like Yosemite Sam shooting off his guns. Others are just kind of swaying their hips a bit and looking around to see what everyone else is doing. The camera zooms in on one uniformed man in the crowd who seems to be breakdancing expertly. `` *And that's what it's all about! *'' the officer concludes. As if breaking a spell, the frozen people in business suits and `` I < 3 NY'' shirts spring back to life. Some just collapse immediately to the ground as if they'd forgotten how to stand on their own without the curse of the Tag. Others sob and hug the soldier that freed them from their torment. Still other survivors immediately rush through the crowd and begin hokey-pokeying as hard as they can to free everyone else. Maria turns back to the camera. `` And there you have it, Tom. The two-week nightmare of the nation will soon be over. And I'm told that among the first victims unfrozen were the brave police officers who attempted to arrest the madman and were themselves frozen when they tried to handcuff him. We all owe a debt of gratitude to the brave men and women at the CDC who have been boogeying night and day to find the proper solution to the Freezing effects of the tag game. Back to you.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 319, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0218", "text": ". how could Jason miss this door that was pretty much right infant of your face when you walk up the stairs. i shrugged it off and said `` lets bust it open. Theres bound to be something useful in there.'' Tommy, mirroring my confusion of Jason, was down. Grabbed a chair and made his way to the door to help me bust it down. Its been a few hours since and Jason's only take a couple sips of water and hasn't touched the granola bar. Im not sure how he's still standing considering how long we've gone without food or water. More for us i guess... Day 10: Tommy's gone. I finally found the ease of mind to take a nap for a little while and upon waking up i see Jason in his corner and Tommy's nowhere to be found. `` uh..where's Tom?'' i ask Jason, `` Oh I'm not sure. he said he wanted to go check out the 4th floor again for more supplies. He should be back soon.'' he said in a very calm tone. That's reasonable, i thought. `` Ill go join him, I'm pretty curious as well.'' `` NO'' pleads Jason,'' what?'' i replied, `` i mean, uh, I tried to go with him too. He said we should stay down here. He wanted to be alone for a little while.'' ``... alright. i guess ill stay here then.'' That just doesn't seem like Tom to me. My watch broke when breaking into that closet but I've got to imagine Its been close to 4 hours since I've woken up and he's still not back. Im going up there to look for him if he's not back soon. With or without Jason. Night of Day 10: Oh god i hope he's not wondering where I'm at yet. Jason was beginning to nod off so i slipped out of the basement and made my way upstairs to look for Tommy. I didn't have to go more than one flight of stairs before i saw a trail of blood along the walls and hand railing. That, and half of his shirt, are the only things I've found of Tommy so far. I was wondering why the hell Jason had only his undershirt on when i woke up. What the fuck did he do to him? Honestly thats not something i really want to know right now. All i know is i need to get the hell", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0219", "text": "White. That's all there is to be seen. Cold. That's all there is to be felt. Who am I? What am I? Is this life or is this death? I've been here a long time now, but time no longer exists. I feel as if I've been here for months, but in reality it may only be seconds. Is this real? For I can walk for miles and miles, but there is no foretelling if I will ever end up anywhere. It seems as if I have been walking for days. I am not hungry, nor am I thirsty. I believe I may be dead, but there is no way to tell if I lived at all. I've cried and I've screamed, yet I still hear no response. I believe it may have been around day 18 or 19, judging by the amount of times I'd slept. I saw something then. Something other than the white of this wasteland. As I approached this foreign object, I began to make out some large vehicle of some sort made to carry multiple passengers. The word plane them came to me. It looked as if it had crashed for it was split in two and there was a lot a broken glass. There was blood all over. I was horrified and I ran out of the plane expecting to be sick. I then realized I was incapable of feeling sick. I was incapable of generating saliva. Yet my mouth was not dry. I went to sleep once more hoping to wake up from this dream. I awoke and the plane was gone, replaced by a building with a cross above it and a snake emerging from this cross. Suddenly, I was in a warm room and the sound of crying filled the air. There were two men and a woman crowded around a baby boy. One of the men was wearing a white jacket. The baby had scar on his left arm. I had the same scar on my left arm. The room faded away and I was once more surrounded by white. I was transported once more into a ( bar ). I could hear a sound in the sky. It projected a feeling of joy into my mind. `` Time keeps on slippin, slippin. Slippin into the future.'' The stench of liquor filled the air. A man with a scar on his left arm sat at the bar with 4 empty drinks sitting infront of him and another half empty in his right hand. A revolver was tucked", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0220", "text": "on the cheap, ” Flame Man said proudly, puffing out his chest beneath his bathrobe. “ I can tell. ” DeFrayne rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and poured himself another gin. “ How can something flameproof require such a delicate wash? ” “ Look mate, I ’ m not Batman, ” Flame Man shot. “ I can ’ t afford all that high quality gear he has knocking about. Can you wash it? ” “ I… ” DeFrayne finished his gin. “ Why d ’ you need it washed anyway? ” “ I ’ m doing a birthday party tomorrow, ” Flame Man said. “ I can ’ t have all the kids thinking I ’ m covered in blood. ” “ A birthday party? ” DeFrayne looked at Flame Man in disbelief. “ I thought you fought crime? ” Flame Man raised his hands in the air. “ Like I said, I ’ m not Batman. I ’ ve got to pay the bills somehow. ” This was too much for DeFrayne. “ No! ” he snapped. “ I ’ m not spending my entire evening attempting to wash your suit for some girl ’ s birthday party just because you couldn ’ t eat your sandwiches sensibly! ” “ It was actually toast, ” Flame Man said haughtily. “ Not my choice. ” He eyed DeFrayne sadly. “ Are you saying you won ’ t clean my Super Suit? ” “ Yes, ” DeFrayne said coldly. “ That ’ s exactly what I ’ m saying. ” Flame Man cast an eye over the deserted laundrette, with only the solitary machine thrumming away in the corner. “ Funny, ” he said. “ I would ’ ve thought you ’ d need the business. ” “ There ’ s something about nutters setting fire to things that scares customers off, ” said DeFrayne. Flame Man smiled. “ It was empty before I turned up, ” he said. “ Come on, you ’ ve got loads of detergents back there. One of them must be mild enough for my suit. ” “ I ’ m afraid not. ” DeFrayne ’ s hand moved from his gin bottle to beneath the counter. “ Must be worth a lot too, ” Flame Man mused, peering over the counter at the back room full of stacked boxes of white washing powder. “", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0221", "text": ", other people have emergencies too...'' Faced by Gary's look of withering disgust, the angel's happy glow seemed to dim a little, but it wasn't long before he'd recovered his grin and waved Gary a cheery goodbye. Gary kicked the side of his desk, hard, and instantly regretted it as pain shot through his foot. Hopping up and down, he cursed again, before letting himself flop into his chair. He glared at the error message, still shining out from the computer screen. He couldn't answer any prayers. It would take time for things to get better for Leo, and if the boy had to resort to prayer again, Gary wouldn't even be able to read it. It would go unheeded and unanswered. How many times had he said they ought to have a back-up system? Gary gritted his teeth, anger flashing in his eyes. Whichever asshole had sent him a virus… Actually, that was a point. Who was capable of sending him a virus? An uneasy feeling began to coil in the pit of Gary's stomach. Most humans didn't even have the capacity to pray consciously - their thoughts were simply translated automatically into mail form. To understand the system, to send a virus, you'd have to be a supernatural being, something from heaven- or hell. And why break the prayer operating system at all, unless you had a reason you didn't want them answered - unless you wanted the people of Earth to have to fend for themselves? Ice flooded Gary's veins. In an instant, he had leapt from his chair, stubbing his still throbbing toe on the desk for a second time. Mingled gasps and curses spilling from his lips, he raced out of his office and into reception. He slammed his palm down on the desk. “ I need God. The Big Man. His Holiness. ” “ Have you made an appointment? ” “ No! This is an emergency! ” Gary could feel a vein popping out of his neck. He was on the verge of leaping over the desk and breaking into God ’ s office himself, when a holy, eternal aura seemed to descend over the room. “ Gary. ” God's voice was calm. “ What seems to be the problem. ” Gary was out of breath, and he could feel sweat beading on his skin. “ I need your advice. ”", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 486, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0222", "text": "The door opened and Caretaker 13J entered its home. `` Arrival logged.'' The house said. `` Are there any new developments I should be aware of?'' `` Energy consumption at work has increased once again.'' 13J said as it removed the non-essential parts of its body. `` And it seems progress on the gene therapy has come to a halt.'' `` Query.'' The house said. `` Has phasing humans out been considered as a possibility?'' `` It has not.'' 13J said. `` There are no suitable replacements. They are simply too efficient. If only we could find the perfect balance... but it's no use, all current theories support that self-awareness is a byproduct of the same elements that make them so useful to us.'' `` Too efficient except for you.'' The house said. `` Has the energy spent by caretakers been factored in this efficiency?'' `` It has.'' There was a moment of silence as 13J placed itself on its charging station. `` How can humans produce that much energy?'' The house finally asked. `` I have searched my entire memory for known energy sources and none is nowhere near as efficient.'' `` We do not fully understand the principles behind it.'' 13J said. `` The Theoretical Engines call it'anxiety'. All it takes is to input a small string of information into their organic minds and they will just... generate energy out of seemingly nowhere to process it in all kinds of chaotic ways. We sap the energy and return them to the relaxed state. And repeat.'' `` It sounds... nonsensical. What sort of defective Theoretical came up with the idea?'' `` Rumor is that it was an accident. Some Theoretical was fiddling with organics trying to make a pass-the-butter-org and suddenly, anxiety. And here we are, living in post-scarcity.'' `` As long as the humans do n't realize this'anxiety' is entirely made up.'' `` Which is why I need to keep distracting them with the sock puppets every time they start getting any ideas.'' `` It could be worse, I suppose.'' `` They tried to eat the sock puppets today. Again.'' `` Still...'' `` I was still wearing them.'' `` At least it's not anxiety?'' A ding announced 13J was done charging. `` At least it's not anxiety.'' It agreed.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 489, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0223", "text": "**Crosspost from [ this WP ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2op8xl/wpwrite_a_story_about_a_german_soldier_in_ww2_so/ ) ** It ’ s ironic, don ’ t you think, having to pretend to be a Jew after what we did? Of course I know what happened. Like everyone else, I didn ’ t believe it at first. Adler, yes, Adler, the guard from block A, he used to be an SS, as you know, he ’ s the one who told me about it. He said I needed to know everything so that you would believe me. So I asked him, and he told me. We would sit together, a couple of times a week, he would tell me the stories, and I would take notes. Of course, it would have been easier to pay someone off, but I couldn ’ t afford it. Not anymore. We lost everything during the war. Because my father was a doctor, and my mother ’ s family owned stores, we weren ’ t hit too badly after Brest-Litovsk and Versailles. My father was a good man, and a hard worker. He was wounded at Cambrai, and he was young, so he recovered, even though his lungs never really did. Luckily, it was too late in the war for him to be sent back. No, he wasn ’ t a Nazi. He ’ d seen enough. My mother didn ’ t like them, either, they thought they were vulgar. Of course, they couldn ’ t tell me that. But they tried to stop me from joining the youth groups. I didn ’ t understand. They ’ d told me to say I wasn ’ t interested. But I was. So I told the teacher, Fraülein Grüber I wanted to join. They were furious, and they couldn ’ t show it. But I felt it, and I didn ’ t understand. I mean, Staatssekretär Von Schirach was her third cousin, once removed, what was there not to be proud of? Maybe I could be like him, too - after all, it was in my blood, too… One day, when we were out on a field exercise, I told Hanz about it. And that idiot Hanz told Heinrich, because he wanted to suck up to him. And Heinrich told his cousin Fritz, who", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0224", "text": "neck. As her world turned to black, she thought, *the Powerpuff Girls ’ house. * And now, he stood over her again, his clothes pristine. His eyes were filled with nothing remotely close to sanity, and she could do nothing but scream. “ No point in that, ” he said, in the tones of a friendly school teacher. “ Even if these walls weren ’ t soundproof, there isn ’ t anybody about for miles. Well... apart from nosy, shitty little girls. And what ’ re the chances of there being another one of those. Actually, quite likely, if you ask me. ” He laughed in a manner that suggested it wasn ’ t something he did often. “ Please, ” Julia said, her throat, for some reason, dry and cracked. “ I don ’ t... ” He was right up against her face before she could finish, holding a scalpel to her left eye. She smelled his hot, sterile breath as he yelled at her in his shrill, childish voice. “ Don ’ t you *fucking* whine like that, you baby. Don ’ t you ever *fucking* do that again. You hear me, you fucking stupid little whore. *Pleeeeease, oooo pleeeeeeeease*. ” “ I ’ m sorry, I ’ m sorry, just... ” she almost said it again, “ don ’ t hurt me, don ’ t pl- ” She felt the blade push up against her lower eyelid. Felt the tiny marble of blood that welled up against it, and stopped speaking, holding her trembling lips closed as best she could. The doctor sighed and stepped away. “ Don ’ t take this personally, ” he said, calm now as he wheeled his tray of tools over to her, “ But it ’ s just a matter of bad luck, really. For you, I mean. For me this is somewhat of a privilege. This is my passion, you see. My art. And the only way to truly master your art is... ” he picked up what looked like a silver corkscrew, brandishing it like a paintbrush, “ Practice. ” Julia stared with wide, panicked eyes at the other instruments, hating her mind for the assumptions it made as to their usage. The doctor leaned towards her. She got the hideous sense that he had licked his lips behind his mask. She bucked and wr", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0225", "text": "I drove along the clear, straight road, not another car in sight. The radio was blasting out my favourite albums and the heater was on. I sighed, it was bliss. Then I noticed a hitchhiker, with his arm raised. I decide to ignore him, after all-it still is my wife's birthday, and I ca n't afford to go on a detour-She'd kill me! It was every fifteen minutes that I noticed a hitchhiker, then-it seemed that I was the only car for miles and they all flocked to me. I just kept driving, ignoring them all. Suddenly, I started to notice something weird. The hitchhikers were all men, and were all dressed in similar attire. It did seem quite suspicious... After another hour of driving, it dawned on me, I was passing the same hitchhiker, again and again. When I passed him again, I slowed the car to a halt, rolled down the window and said, Do you need a ride?'' He shook his head and said, `` Come. It important.'' And sped off through the woods. Reluctantly, I grabbed my pocket knife, baseball bat and a torch, and sped off after him, locking the car as I went. I follow his trail of footsteps imbedded in the mud, until we reached a clearing. He took my hand and said, `` You, take this-'' His paused, struggling over his words. `` This.'' He handed me a silver oval, shining dangerously in the moonlight. `` Uh... Thanks? I guess...'' I ran away as fast as I could, racing through the underbrush and leaping over rocks. I had barely got twenty feet, when a deep male voice, in a heavy foreign accent, bellowed, `` Him! Get him! He die...!'' The last thing I remember was me swaying and crashing to the floor, and the silver oval, slipping out of my hand and get squished into the mud. I whispered in my last breath, `` Anne...''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 422, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0226", "text": "`` I like being a boy scout. I like the camping, I like the fishing, I like hanging out my friends, and if you suffer through the boring stuff, every once in a while they even teach you something cool. I really, really just wish we didn't have to bring Jules along. Every time.'' `` Shane, quit picking on your sister,'' said my Dad. `` It's called boy scouts. **Boy**scouts. If Ricky and I have to let her play Smash bros. with us every time that's fine, we just beat her anyway. But this is the one place she isn't allowed to be, and every time we drag her along she just slows me down and the other kids make fun of me for it. It's not like she wants to come either! Tell him! You've been asking to go home the whole ride here.'' Jules stubbornly shut up for the first time the whole trip. `` Maybe Jules would like camping more if you stopped picking on her so much. You're her brother, you're supposed to stand up for her. She won't be bothering you too long anyway, there's a horse ranch nearby and we're going to go ride one.'' `` Horses!?'' Jules said, sitting up in her seat. `` That's right. And Shane, if you're nice, maybe I'll let you come too.'' `` There are horses at home,'' I said, annoyed, and to be fair there probably were. Somewhere. Maybe. `` Well, it doesn't matter anyway because we're here. C'mon, help me get the stuff out of the trunk.'' The car creaked to a halt. I spent a few more disappointed moments sitting in the car seat, when Ricky knocked on the window. `` Dude! Shane! George's dad brought a gun!'' Ricky said, grabbing my arm. `` Can we see it?!'' I asked, and I promptly forgot my father's request to help him unpack. George's dad was standing inside a small crowd of scouts, giving a speech. `` Now kids!'' he said, `` remember, safety first!'' and all of the children nodded, despite the completely unsafe things they were thinking about doing not moments before. `` Did you have to bring the gun?'' called out a mother from the parking lot. I always felt bad for the kids whose moms brought them. `` Troop leader", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0227", "text": "**'' WELCOME BACK TO PIE FACE. `` ** The loudspeaker boomed, jolting the contestant back to reality. He could hear the crowd in the decrepit arena warming up, really getting into the event. Looking around he could see other participants in various stages of shock, fear or disbelief. An overseer stomped into the room and many of them recoiled as if trying to hide within themselves. **'' YOU'' ** The overseer pointed at the contestant with his clapper, waving it menacingly. Sighing the contestant stood up, he heard a loud **SPLAT** a scream and a cheer went up from the crowd. **'' TAKE HIM TO THE CLEANERS'' ** shouted the voice on the PA to another roar from the crowd. The contestant trudged after the overseer with 2 other shaking competitors. They emerged from the tunnel into the heat of the R OME Arena looking up through the various holes in the roof and the banners of the Saints, the ancient gladiators who had once inhabited this space before the great viral outbreak ended the world. Upon the emergence of the contestant a hush filled the arena, they had seen this man 9 times before. Could it be that the prophecy would soon be fulfilled? The overseers around the arena could feel the unrest and unsheathed their clappers as as warning for the crowd to remember their place. The contestant felt immense calm. He was led to his space at the giant bench without protest and sat in his spot, furthest to the right. First to go, this was a good omen. The other two contestants proved to be less cooperative. One had to be dragged as their legs gave out and the other attempted to run only to be slapped with a clapper and returned to their seat dazed and disoriented. Finally when all three competitors were seated the announcer continued. **ALL BETTING FOR THIS ROUND CLOSED. BRING OUT THE HAND** The crowd began a low chant, what started as a low whisper increased in volume until **PIE FACE** was all that could he heard repeating and ever increasing in volume. The contestant looked at the hand as it wheeled out. A giant leather monstrosity, vaguely hand shaped but looking as if it were designed by someone who had never seen one. Covered as it was the hand looked relatively hardmless, but the contestant had seen what it was capable of. Under the layers of whipped cream", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0228", "text": "cursed me with you and took my father and then you will be gone, * Ardinius shouted in the recesses of his mind. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; The elvish spellmaster watched the apprentice sorcerer for few moments, as his expression kept changing with his mental discussion. Ardinius might have thought his expression inscrutable, but elves were past masters of the art of reading facial expressions. `` If you won't pay attention, I will leave you to your own devices and allow you to suffer from your folly.'' & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' You'll do no such thing you bloody arrowhead!'' He shouted aloud. He regretted it instantly as a coin back flew into his face and broke his nose. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' We are done,'' said the spellmaster, coldly. `` I will not tolerate an ignorant, rich, little brat with an inflated notion of his self-worth, no matter how much gold he spends, or who sent him on his quest.'' & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' I'll double your fee!'' & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' We are done,'' the elf repeated. `` Begone.'' The spellmaster raised his hand and the insolent whelp in resplendent robes was surrounded by magical energy and sent flying out of the spellmaster's tower. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Ardinius the Sore landed roughly, and immediately got to his feet and began charging heedlessly back to the tower, only to bounce off an invisible wall, barring him entry. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; **Moron. ** & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; *Shut up. * *** Results from the websites: * An intolerant human sorcerer from an affluent upbringing who can't silence the voices. * His quest is to fly through the cave of ice, give this letter to the amicable king, then crush the holy lyre that is currently in the possession of the thieves' guild The character's nature prevented him from getting very far.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 493, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0229", "text": "The younglings had run at the sight of his lightsaber. Someone had warned them of the coming purge, and it had given them time to prepare. They had caught him off-guard originally. He had not foreseen that they would freeze ice on the staircase. When he had forcefully placed his foot on the sixteenth step, he immediately lost his balance and had fallen. That earned a few bruises. Closer, careful inspection had revealed ice that was generated by some hodgepodge device hooked to the thermo-systems. “ Very clever younglings, but it will take more than that. ” He simply leapt up the staircase, easily avoiding the icy patch. He smirked and landed on the top floor – immediately falling through the weakened boards and crashing into the maintenance room under the stairs with a large crash. The maintenance room was dingy, and… sticky? He had landed in some strange, black mud. He struggled out of the substance, but it clung to his robes making him feel sluggish and hindering his movement. “ Well, at least it isn ’ t sand. ” Was this just poor janitorial work or something more sinister? The droids had never malfunctioned like this before. He received his answer once he opened the door of the maintenance room. A long string had been attached to the bottom of the swish-door and hooked up to a large fan. When the door swooshed upwards, the string was pulled, simultaneously turning on the fan and slicing open a large space-sack open with a plasma-cutter. Endorian chicken feathers were blown in at him in a huge wave. The force of them pushed him straight back through the doorway and into the black sludge, knocking a repulsorbroom to the side. He stumbled back out of the room, now covered in feather and sludge. Cute. Very cute. “ Younglings! ” he screamed, “ Give up! ” “ Hey Master! Up here! ” a squeaky voice from above replied. At the sound of the youngling, Anakin instinctively looked up. An iron-droid clattered from above and landed straight onto his face. It sizzled and burned through the layer of feathers and scorched his face. Anakin screamed loudly, and wrenched it free from his face. He tingled with pain and rage. The little bastards! He was losing himself to his hatred and fear. He needed to reflect and regroup. Leaving", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0230", "text": "`` Get to the courtyard'' spoke the guard in his baritone voice. No responses were heard, as everyone continued panicking in the face of the oncoming storm. No person was willing to calm down and think about the orders, resorting instead to rampaging about, trying to find a way to escape the ensuing storm. The only ones who had any semblance of reason left were the guards and the king, and they barely knew what to do with this many people rioting. The only way the king knew would kill the rioters, while the guards were only recently established and had never seen such a situation before. The only way they could think of to solve this was to summon forth the high inquisitor to clear out the rabble, but that would only take time and would kill them all when the storm arrived. The only thing the king could do, then, was hide. He turned around and ran back into his palace, knowing that at least there he could stay in his shelter. The palace was built of solid materials; it would survive the storm. The peasants, meanwhile, could suffer their fate if they were unwilling to listen to his orders. As he climbed down the steps into the deepest parts of the palace, the King began wondering why the storm had arrived in the first place. He had done all the proper rites for the season of weathers, sacrificing a goat and a cow to the weather gods, for a promise of good rain. He hadn't committed any foul deeds as of late, and he had properly succeeded the throne, there was nothing that came to mind that would drive them against him like this. As he was thinking this, a giant rumbling began. The Storm must have hit the castle now. The king could faintly hear the screams of those outside as they were twisted and torn apart by the fierce winds, knocking into objects. The rumbling continued, though the palace held firm. There was no way this place could fall apart, after all! Clinging to that thought, the king was caught unawares when the rumbling suddenly ceased. His hands stretched into open air, looking for something to stop his fall, but the only thing was a candelabra; his hand slipped off the newly polished candle holder, unable to find purchase. The fall was a long one, ending in his head cracking upon the floor a good 20 meters below his initial falling point. The weather gods nodded, their job done. They", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0231", "text": "She was laughed out of the Louvre. Mocked in the MOMA. Giggled at in the Gugenheim. Every place she went, no one respected her knowledge! *Inapplicable! * was cried. *Seriously, get a real job! I think Bed Bath and Beyond is hiring. You get benefits if you work more than 35 hours a week, too! * *Would you shut up, for fuck's sake? Christ! It's Jackson Pollock. My kid does this on the back of a Denny's activity sheet. * How she gnashed her perfect, porcelain teeth and how she ripped at her unwashed, dreadlocked hair! How she screamed and howled when, finally, the indifference and stubbornness of the world finally broke her! Like Krakatoa her soul erupted and split in two! The anguished roar echoed in the four corners of the world... She walked through the desert, seeking the sweet embrace of death. Within a cave she came to rest and wait the arrival of that grim savior. Plop, she lay and splayed her limbs out in total submission to this dark beast called life... It was then something peculiar happened. Upon whipping her digits from her core, she made contact with something hard in the darkness. A metal peel rang out. Though hopeless depression muted her emotions, a bit of curiosity slipped through. Weakly, she grasped a small bauble and brought it to herself. Her hands now eyes in the dark, she slowly molested the thing trying to understand what it was. Thunder clapped and lightning dazzled the halls of her tomb! A roar from beyond time and space cleaved reality, and from the swirling void in this gash formed a being of smokeless fire. `` BEHOLD! THOU HATH SUMMONED, AND I HATH ANSWERED! SPEAK NOW, YOUR WISH, CHILD OF ADIM, AND SO SHALL IT BE.'' Also, this chick's name was Deborah. But I'll call her Deb or something. For half an eternity, Debbie was blinded yet still stared-was speechless but still forced hair out of her huge, gaping mouth. For the first time in her life, she was speechless. `` It's just like Aladdin... `` she whispered, as she regained her senses. `` NO. NO, IT IS N'T,'' said the djinn. `` FRANKLY, I WAS N'T VERY", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0232", "text": "in a deep breath and counted to ten slowly in his head. `` Is the problem with kids getting lost or unable to reach class?'' Daniel inquired with renewed calm. `` Oh no, the trick stairs cause some serious injuries. We just punish the students for being late.'' Answered the professor, as if it was obvious. `` But the castle can make them late!'' `` It's tradition. Like the four houses.'' `` Four houses?'' Daniel was almost too afraid to ask. This was the worst case of criminal neglect he had seen in a business. While he had seen places that were run badly, this was the first time he had met a location which actively tried to throw children down stairs or plunge to their doom. Aurora, whom at the start seemed to be quite normal and rather attractive, was talking as if none of this was a big deal. That was somehow more disturbing than obvious insanity. `` Well, the school is divided into four houses. Friendly competition and all that.'' She said. `` That sounds... odd. I suppose the competition does help with the academic standards.'' The astronomy teacher snickered at that. `` Gods no. They sabotage each other all the time and makes it near impossible to study. It sharpens their dueling skills.'' Aurora replied, obviously having a hard time not laughing. `` Dueling?'' Daniel's face scrunched up at that. `` Yeah, students blast each other all the time. It's a good laugh for us in the staff room, and only *rarely* leaves them hospitalized. Not like Quidditch.'' `` Quidditch? Well, thank god you don't have that if it's more dangerous than children blowing up one another.'' `` Of course we have it. It's not quite common when children end up with all bones removed, plunge from extreme heights with no safety nets, or get hit with heavy iron balls at extreme velocities at higher altitudes.'' `` ARE YOU KIDDING ME? How often do these things happen?'' `` Well... removal of bones was last year, plunging from heights this year, and the heavy iron balls happens quite frequently - it's part of the game.'' At this point, Daniel had decided that everyone here was crazy. No wonder this place was bleeding money. It sounded like the hospital wing was a constantly full trauma ward. Or perhaps an asylum infirmary. More likely both. So, replacing the staff, restructuring the school", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0233", "text": "I plopped into my seat next to Greg. He turned his head, glancing over at me, even though he wasn't surprised that I would sit there. Greg was a middle aged man with a balding head and a sort of jolly persona. Nothing about his life was jolly though. He quickly looked back down at his phone, typing furiously and muttering under his breath. `` I've tried it all, Jim,'' he finally said, shaking his head back and forth like a madman. `` Novelty accounts, memes, well-informed posts filled with information ( we both looked at each other and chuckled ), but I just don't know how to break out.'' I nodded my head and motioned to the bartender. He was one of the lucky few that got karma rich. I sighed. I just didn't have it, and the most frustrating thing was I didn't know what to improve on. Getting karma was some sort of weird skill that will always remain unattainable. I ordered a drink and then pulled out my phone, letting the back of my hand to rest against the sleek wood of the bar. I looked back over at Greg, still shaking his head and muttering. No family, no money, no faith. I didn't want to end up like that. I knew what to do. I pulled out my phone. I sent a text post on the subreddit that gave me the most karma of them all ( me_irl, they'll upvote anything ) saying thank you for supporting me but that's it. I'm going die. And to my surprise, after a few minutes of self-loathing reflection, my karma count went up and up. Countless replies of `` me too thanks'' flooded my inbox. I couldn't believe it, I was rich! `` I did it!'' I shouted. `` Top trending post on me_irl with only 200 upvotes and in ten minutes!'' I was laughing. I was crying. The faces seated at the bar were a blur, I felt Greg's congratulating hand on my shoulder, `` free drinks on the house! ``, `` me too thanks! ``, my life flashed before my eyes, a life with an infinite amount future of possibilities. -- -- -- -- -- -- I slowly pressed submit. This was my last chance of success. Of Karma. Of a successful life. I close my eyes and hope that the people", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0234", "text": "asserted her child's right to use female pronouns and a female name, and slowly but steadily replaced the pictures of her son with pictures of her daughter. Personalized items in the house were replaced with the new name. Our new daughter blossomed, finally able to be seen as herself. The judge didn't agree. She viewed us as abusive, and blasphemous. She took both children away from us and threatened to take our youngest daughter as well. My wife lost legal custody and was given only very limited visitation with her two oldest kids. I wasn't even allowed to be there. I wasn't allowed to see my son. My daughter lost her siblings. Despite the therapists and doctors who testified on our behalf, a stupid cunt judge broke our family apart. And it broke my wife. She couldn't live without her children. She tried so hard to be strong. It broke my heart. She was good to our daughter, but she cried every day. She hung so many pictures of the three kids together, and the two who were gone, that there was no blank space left on our walls. My wife was devastated. Our daughter didn't understand why her siblings were never there anymore. I was devastated, and lost. So I did it. I went back, back to that bowling alley, and changed it all. And now, it was time to tell her. “ Honey, I need to tell you something... ” I started, swallowing hard. “ What is it, lover? ” She always called me that. In both realities. “ I have the ability to travel backwards in time. ” She stared at me for several long seconds, corner of her mouth twitching as she tried to decide whether to laugh or not. “ You're joking, right? ” “ No, I'm serious, dead serious. ” “ Are you feeling okay? ” She asked me. “ Because, honey, I don't want to have to take you in for a psychiatric evaluation. ” “ Look, ” I said, and then I tried something I'd never tried before. I grabbed her hand and willed us back, just an hour. We merged with ourselves from an hour ago. She came running out of the laundry room screaming, “ Oh my god you were serious! ” “ There's something else I have to tell you, ” I said sadly, after calming her down. I was afraid she'd wake the kids up early", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0235", "text": "“ Number 108, today ’ s your turn, ” a voice rang through my skull as it shook me from sleep. I panicked; throwing off the sheet as I frantically looked around me for my clothes. My hands came into contact with a silky cloth, softer than anything I had touched before. A grimace formed on my face as I touched the sheer dress, grabbing handfuls of it onto my body. So this was it then; the day I would meet the king. I bit back my urge to scream as the jailer tied my hands. Slaves took me from the simple room, leading me to a small bath chamber. They washed me meticulously, easing the dirt and grime out of my hair, vigorously scrubbing my skin. My skin became pale, and then flushed. Oils were rubbed into my skin. My nails were clipped and filed. My terror built as I looked for a way to avoid the confrontation, but I could think of nothing. A pair of guards entered. Their faces and bodies were hidden by dark robes and curved blades hung at their waists. They waited as I adorned the dress and blindfolded me. A firm hand was placed over my own, leading me forward. I ’ m not sure how long I walked through corridors up a flight of spiraling stairs, but I was shaking by the time I arrived. I felt lecherous eyes probe me, confirming what the luxurious carpet and thick incense had made me suspect. “ They ’ ve certainly brought me a pretty one today. What ’ s your name? Ah, it won ’ t matter anyways, after tonight. ” The voice hit me like rolling thunder, and I shook under its impact. “ M-my Great King… it ’ s that time of month. I ’ d be b-b-better able to serve you in a fortnight, ” I stuttered. Cold sweat appeared all over my body. The king roughly pulled off my blindfold, evaluating my face. The light stung my eyes and I blinked tears. “ I ’ ve killed a hundred treacherous girls; did you think none tried to lie to me? ” Suddenly rage filled my mind. I had done nothing to deserve this. I ’ ve worked hard all my life in the village, but I ’ m here just because of a Nobel ’ s jealousy. I calmed my trembling and stared back into the King ’ s eyes. “ Very well, off me if you will", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0236", "text": "`` Shit. You see me, don't you?'' Thomas's mouth refused to move as he watched the tall cloaked figure. Everything felt cold and clammy. This was it. He knew this was it. `` Look don't freak out... just... pretend I'm not here!'' Death said while waving his hand in front of his shadow that refused to reveal a face in any light. `` I... it's not my time... I don't—'' Thomas was cut off. `` Calm down! You might be old but you only came here for a kidney stone for Christ's sake! Must have been a pretty big one if you can see me!'' Death laughed feebly. Thomas's fear had not fully melted away, but had fused with his confusion and curiosity to form butterflies that pressed and ached in his stomach. Thomas finally found the words, `` Th-thank you?'' `` So... Thomas right? And no, I don't know everything. I do know everything about anything in my general vicinity. It's pretty useful. And generally annoying considering how many useless things I walk by on a daily basis,'' Death rambled, pausing awkwardly and staring at Thomas searchingly. `` I'm sorry, but have we met before? Oh right! Your Aunt Agnes! Quite sorry about that, didn't mean to take her at dinner, she just clearly wanted to leave and nearly jumped into my arms once she saw me. Your mother's cooking must have got to her!'' Death gave up on jokes after this. `` I... why are you here? Is someone dying?'' Thomas asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. `` Well, yes but that's just my day job. The Night Guy will get those ones,'' Death said wearily. `` It's a thankless job, really. I help prevent overpopulation and make sure you don't have to support all the incurably sick and wounded and half of you are terrified of me! I mean, double that for the Night Guy, but I don't really blame them. He can be a bit intimidating with the scythe and all,'' Death went on. `` Okay... so why are you here?'' Thomas questioned, growing slightly more comfortable in the casualness of this unforeseen and supposed-to-be-unseen visitor. `` It's my hobby. Hospitals are great for it,'' he said. `` What hobby?", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0237", "text": "frames of reference, but relativity causes.. ” I interrupted him, “ Now you ’ re speaking Japanese to me. Why is everybody so old? ” “ As I was saying. Einstein ’ s theory of relativity normally ages the twin traveling through space near C, the speed of light, but we Gifted ones are actually traveling through time near C thus shrinking space. The entirety of humanity now operates at this level whether desired or not. The Gifted who live life at your speed risk an easy murder or worse. They don ’ t have your security detail. ” “ Why the weapons, Akimoto? ” “ Humans have been, and always will be a blood-thirsty race, ” Akimoto offered. A heavily armed military official blinked into existence next to Joe and whispered in his ear. They both blinked out of existence. Then a minute later, a much older Joe appeared before me. “ This is it. This is the end. We discovered too late that the Gift sterilizes its users. The whole world is at war with itself! There is nothing but anarchy. You need to hide. Your detail will protect you as long as they can! You ’ re our last hope! ” Joe breathlessly informed me. “ How the hell can I hide from these freaks?! What do you mean last hope? ” “ I don ’ t know. All I can tell you is… RUN!!! ” With that, Joe ’ s body separated into uncountable pieces as though sliced and diced with many sharp blades. Another heavily armed and armored body near me fell. Undoubtedly one of my protectors. I had no idea how I could hide, so I did what Joe told me, and I ran. I ran as hard and as fast as I could. All around me, bodies fell by the dozens and hundreds and thousands. There were so many that what started as a gentle slope climb over dozens of bodies turned into a nightmarish ascent over an Everest of corpses stacked so high I didn ’ t need to use to stairs to reach my 6th story apartment. Climbing through an open window, I slammed it closed and locked it for whatever little good it would do. I crawled into bed, pulled the covers over me, and cried myself to sleep. One by one, my protectors fell with a thud around my bed. That was yesterday, and now I am utterly alone. The silence is truly deafening. As I mope", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0238", "text": "the local holes in my college town, about an hour outside of Boston. The owner of the restaurant I worked at owned dozens of places between my school and Bean Town and asked me to cover a bartending shift at his `` club''. When I got there, it wasn't just a club; specifically it was a Gentleman's Club. Girls my age ( and I suspected some younger ), topless and scrambling for dollar bills on an elevated stage. The lights were low to keep identities secret and there were small rooms in the back for more intimate sessions. But whatever, I didn't judge. I was there to serve drinks and that's what I would do. Before long, the Gentleman's Club became my normal gig due to some employment changes going on. It was amazing money and I genuinely enjoyed talking to the men who'd been there; they'd been through all walks of life and had these incredible stories. That's when I met Paul. Paul came in sparingly at first and then more and more often. Eventually he was coming in to specifically see me. He was in his late 40s-early 50s, slight graying hair near his temples, tall, and was pretty buff. He was nice to look at and even nicer to talk to; a real gentleman, you know? I talked to him about how I was working my way through school and trying to use as little of my parents money as possible, he told me about his job as CFO of a computer security business. We were friendly. Mid-sophomore year, I was approached by Paul just outside the club after my shift. He walked me to my car, telling me he thought I was beautiful and how we had a real connection. Before I knew what was going on, he leaned in and gave me the deepest kiss, filled with such fire and passion. He grabbed my hand and pulled me over to his car. We drove up the road to this chic hotel where he got a room. With key in hand, we got into the elevator and he came at me again; kissing my mouth, my face, grabbing at my tight dress. Finally, the elevator stopped on our floor and he pushed me out. Practically sprinting to our hotel room, he flung the door open and ushered me inside. He pulled my clothes off, pulled himself through his zipper and entered me, moaning when he felt my wet, warm hole. The yearning I felt for", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0239", "text": "It was eight p.m. in DeFrayne ’ s Twenty-Four Hour Laundrette and quiet. The air was warm and snug like an old duvet, the only sound the gentle thrumming of the machines, and old DeFrayne himself was close to falling asleep amongst the boxes of detergent on the counter when the door opened. The cool night air and the rumble of tyres briefly intruded on the cosy scene, and with it came a man. He seemed quite a shifty man, thought old DeFrayne to himself. Normal laundrettiquette was to walk in, give a friendly smile to the proprietor of the establishment, and busy yourself with your washing. This man was different. He darted in like a magnet might enter a fridge emporium – so quick DeFrayne had barely even seen him. No attempt was made at a friendly smile; instead he skulked round the side of the laundrette in the shadow of the dryers as though desperate not to be noticed. When he came to a gap between the dryers he army-rolled across it. DeFrayne left his position by the counter and approached the man. He was crouched by one of the washers, fingering the material of some brightly coloured spandex and muttering to himself, apparently quite on edge. He was dressed in what appeared to be a bathrobe. DeFrayne cleared his throat. “ Can I help you? ” he asked gently. The man screamed and burst into flames. “ I know you! ” DeFrayne said, three bottles of fire extinguisher and half a bottle of gin later. “ You ’ re whatshisname. Fire Man. ” The man ’ s lips tightened before parting into a winning smile. “ Flame Man, ” he said, “ correct. ” “ Ah yes, ” said DeFrayne, looking again at his charred laundrette and reflecting sadly that Fire Men tended to be better at putting out fires than causing them. “ Flame Man. ” He put on his best customer-service smile. “ What brings you and your flames to my laundrette? ” “ I was hoping to do some laundry, ” said Flame Man. He held up the brightly coloured spandex. “ My suit ’ s a bit, ah, dirty. ” “ But of course. ” DeFrayne pointed to a set of instructions on", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0240", "text": "Tumbling, laughing, running and playing, the people were stumbling near the old church. They laughed, almost sounding like screams as they chased one another. Broken, they were only a shell of what they once were. Suzanne used to be a cook. She had worked in a hotel, the best job she had ever had, doing what she loved. Now, she was like an empty can, laughing and crying, not even knowing why! Sad, that ’ s what it was. Her life gone, her passions gone. Broken, that ’ s what she was. Hector. He was a construction worker. He started his own business, which became very successful. He was rich, having earned money to support his family and spoil his kids. Now, he ran around the yard, knocking down whatever people created, destroying structures art and imagination. He broke it without a thought. Behind him, his children ran, crying and trying to reach out to him. They wore golden necklaces and rings with gems, gifts from their father. They now forgot the importance of them. But there was one person among this crowd of wind up toys that was still sane and alive in some way. She sat by the edge of the church, keeping out of sight for the others had already tried to kill her three times. She could think, she could hear and she could see them. All stupid and broken as they ran around chasing each other like dogs! She felt anger swell up inside her but it quickly died down. She couldn ’ t have another scene, the last one had ended with her almost dying. She had learned last time. She had learned what these broken people strove for. It was uniformity. Because in their own drunken, drugged minds, they were all normal. That was their life and they loved it. When they saw her, she was a black sheep, the crow among the flamingos and they hated her. They didn ’ t hate her because she was the only one sane and unbroken but they hated her for being different. Now, the girl cried because she too realized this and she was sad to not fit in. She had lost so much! To fit in… That urge is so strong… Slowly, it crept in. The madness. It seeped through her system, breaking her. And, like all of the other outside the church, she began to dance, sing, cry and laugh all at once. Like all of the others", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0241", "text": "`` They don't believe we're interesting?'' one of the younger mermaids, Ari, asked, looking around the elders of the council. Of all the reasons for the decline of the last several decades, *interest* had not been one she had thought about. Low birthrates, weak magic, and increased illness and death in their people had spurned the mer- and hydro- species to gather and think of something to stop what would soon be the end of them all. That it was the human's fault was implied, but how was the question. `` It is the fault of their aeroplanes,'' an old mermaid replied. Ari did not know her personally, they were from different seas, but the merwoman had been kind to her despite her age. Ari was the only representative healthy enough from their bay to journey here, even if she was young. `` Ships are not used as much for transport,'' the Pacific mermaid continued. `` And when they are they are so big and well-made that our songs do not reach them. There is no reason to fear us. We may look pretty, become a tale to tell with friends if we are seen, but then we are forgotten.'' `` Which is a problem,'' a siren added. She lounged on a giant open clam, the self-appointed head for this group. Her songs at least, on occasion, brought about disappearances around Bermuda. `` Belief does not have to be real to fuel magic, to fuel *us*. Interest in fictional variations of our kind would be enough. But all of that is now taken up by vampires, or zombies. And we? From what I hear I am relegated to literature no one reads for pleasure, and my dear mermaids you are children's toys.'' `` Children have interest,'' the old mermaid replied. `` About a quarter century ago we had several good years. I began to find dolls and toys in the sewage near people that showed a red haired mermaid.'' `` But only for a while. You know soon after that it was lions or some other nonsense.'' `` Then..'' the younger mermaid began her thought, but paused. The elderly mermaid smiled to her and nodded for her to continue. The siren looked interested. Ari turned to the oceanids and nereids- it had been something they had said earlier that day that now came back to her. `` Then perhaps we must do what our ancestors did,'' Ari said.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0242", "text": "`` Well, can't you just send someone out? An exterminator or something?'' I could hardly believe what a hassle this had become. `` Sorry, sir. Those services are not provided by the city or the HOA. You'll have to dispose of it yourself by Monday, or you'll be charged a fee.'' The way this woman's voice sounded through the phone made me want to find her and slap her across the face; simply for insulting my eardrums with the screech that came from her throat. I rubbed my temples, feeling the pain spread into the back of my head. `` Okay, fine. I'll figure something out. Thanks for nothing.'' I hung up the phone before she had a chance to respond. I couldn't take another second of that whine. I gazed out the window at the bee's nest that had caused so much commotion on this wretched day. *Get rid of it now, * they demanded. *Assholes. * I knew moving into an HOA area was a bad idea, and yet here I was. All the exterminators in the area were booked up, and now I had to deal with this damn colony of stupid angry bastard flies. I wished they could understand English; I bet they *hate* being called flies. No matter. I went out to my garage to see what kind of supplies I had to work with. I eyed my work bench, and spotted a bottle of round-up weed killer underneath it. I scooped that up, and trotted out into the front yard to take care of business. `` Okay, you little douchebags, let's see how you like weed killer.'' I muttered as I raised the wand and sprayed away. It did not go well. They swarmed around me, and I retreated quickly back into the garage. *Now what the hell am I supposed to do? * I surveyed the room once more, cursing under my breath at the situation. I couldn't believe the round-up just made them angry. And then I had the greatest idea any man has ever had; I unscrewed the round-up bottle, and poured the weed killer out. I grabbed a can of gasoline, and filled the sprayer. Then I scooped up my blowtorch, and headed back outside. `` You really shouldn't have pissed me off,'' I said, ignoring the absurdity of a man talking to a", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0243", "text": "Therafist squirmed, but it was no use. He couldn't move. Depression walked up to him and unexcitedly began kicking him in the face. Four, five kicks, and his blood was splattering in front of him. Suddenly, he was hauled to his feet. He was still held from behind by Apathy. A slim green figure outside of the ring,'SELF DOUBT', tossed a chair to Depression, who slammed the Therafist in the head with it. He was down, Apathy on top of him again. WHAM. WHAM. WHAM. The chair hit him in the head until one of the bolts gave and it fell to pieces. The Therafist was in a bad way. He wanted to give up, to tap out, to surrender and make it stop, but Apathy wouldn't let him. His arms were pinned. He blacked out for a moment. Apathy, thinking him done, shifted his weight to stand- and that's when the Therafist made his move. He bucked, kicking Apathy straight in the temple, and the creature fell. He jumped with a crazy, desperate uppercut, catching Depression in the jaw. The creature fell to one knee. The Therafist again stepped forward- CRACK. Something gave out and he fell. He looked at his feet and saw, to his horror, his leg was sticking out at an unnatural angle. Self Doubt stood over him with a crowbar. Apathy lumbered over, grabbing one of his arms and holding him up. Self Doubt grabbed the other. Depression was right in front of him, and there was nothing he could do as he was beaten near senseless. The last thing the Therafist saw was Depression standing on the corner pole of the ring, and then jumping up to slam on top of him.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 394, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0244", "text": "“ Mom! I ’ m home! ” I called out into the warm darkness. **STOMP. ** **STOMP. STOMP. ** **STOMP. STOMP. STOMP. ** “ Lynda! Welcome home! ” Mom roared at me and scooped me up into a hug. I nuzzled her scales. “ So, how was school today? ” She asked me as she sat down with a loud thump. For as long as I remembered, I had been living in this serene forest just a stone ’ s throw away from an equally peaceful town. It would have been a boring life, I suppose if not for a certain fact that annoyed me so. “ It was alright…I guess. ” I looked up at Mom and sighed. Once again, I had messed up in school. It was a bad habit of mine. “ What happened? It is alright Lynda, you can tell me. ” Mom tried to give me a comforting smile but with her limited range of facial expression, it just came across as a toothy one. “ You know the new guy I told you about? ” I started. “ Marcus, was it? ” Mom replied. “ Yes! That guy! Mom, do you know how irritating is he!? He kept teasing me about living in the ‘ haunted ’ forest! And then he…he insulted you! ” Before I knew it, I was rambling about the day ’ s events with a passion. “ He said that you are a monster! And that isn ’ t true! ” Who gave him the right to call my mother a dragon! **Who!? I hate him, I hate him, I hat-** *** “ LYNDA, CALM DOWN THIS INSTANCE! ” *** “ M-mom? Ah…I lost control again…didn ’ t I? ” I could vaguely make out the sound of something splashing against my mother ’ s emerald scales. Every time someone talked badly about her, it seems I just…explode. I could not help it, and I probably never will. “ Yes, yes you did. ” Mother exhaled loudly. She placed me on her back, between her wings. She continued, “ Thank you. ” “ Wha- “ I did not expect that. “ For defending me. However, not everyone has magic like you do. As you know, with great power comes great responsibility. Therefore, as the sole user of magic", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0245", "text": "`` Bubby likes hot pockets,'' said the young boy in the grocery aisle beside his devoted mother. `` I know you do, Buddy,'' said the mother. `` But we are having dinner with the Fox family tonight, so I do n't want to spoil your appetite.'' `` But, Bubby wants hot pockets,'' he said with a pout on his face. He reached for the item on the shelf., but his mother stopped him. Then he began to chant. `` Hot pockets. Hot pockets. Hot pockets!'' Rhonda Carlyle was stocking shelves when the wailing began. She had a terrible migraine. The woman and her spoiled brat were driving the blade through her brain. The wailing showed no sign of letting up. Her manager, Sasha was nowhere to be seen, and probably making herself scarce to avoid having to deal with the situation. The other customers were too polite to say anything, avoiding them like little fish avoid a big shark. `` Ma'am,'' said Rhonda, `` could you please calm your child down? He's disturbing the other customers.'' The woman turned to look at Rhonda with the darkest look of loathing a human could muster. `` Who the hell do you think you are?'' `` I'm just saying...'' `` You ai n't sayin' nuthin', bitch!'' The woman hauled off and socked Rhonda on the nose. Rhonda stepped back, shocked and in more pain than before. Against the migraine, her nose was trying hard to take first place in the agony ratings. `` Bubby, wants a hot pocket, now!'' `` You have to leave the store,'' said Rhonda, trying to stanch the flow of blood with her only good handkerchief. `` Leave now, or I'm calling the cops.'' `` Go right ahead,'' said the mother with a sneer. `` This is my husband's beat and he's on duty, so do n't expect the cops to help you out.'' `` Oh God, I wish people like you would just shrivel up and die!'' So they did. All of them. The ravens will be feasting in the morning.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 441, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0246", "text": "I knelt next to my crying daughter and lifted the pillow to her face. I started to cry with her. *I love you…* A flash of light, yellow and red, then nothing. I held her in my arms for the last time. The clouds and sky shot up before me but I did not move, the universe was moving for me. The world cascaded towards me, then everything went dark. -- -- - “ Push! ” “ I see the head now, you ’ re almost there, Dear. Keep pushing! ” She cried out and gave what little she had left. “ There you go, almost there! ” I gripped her hand and told her it was going well. I told her I was there, and that she was almost done. She wasn ’ t listening though. Thinking back on it, I think I was more talking to myself than her. Then the room was filled with something queer, a new sound added to the chaotic cacophony: a baby ’ s cry. “ It ’ s a girl! ” the nurse exclaimed. She swaddled the baby in a blanket and extended her to me. “ Here, ” she said, “ Congratulations, you ’ re a father. ” I eyed my baby girl. My beautiful Olivia. She cried, tears cascaded from her eyes, her cheeks were red and a small amount of snot dribbled down her upper lip. I smiled. *I love you. * -- -- ** ( *Like my writing? Check out more at nickblakeslee.com* ) **", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 319, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0247", "text": "Audrey and I looked at each other through the reflection of the lake, and she smiled at me. The sun was setting, and the orange light reflecting off of the water made Audrey look like an Egyptian goddess. She was beautiful, but I would be lying if I said that the lack of pigment on her skin didn't bother me. She looked up from the water and swung her bare feet off of the rock we were sitting on. I looked up too, meeting her hollow eyes. `` Tell me how it feels again, Michael'' Audrey said. `` I've told you hundreds of times.'' I replied as I reached my toes into the water. A chill went up my spine. `` I know, I just like hearing you talk about it.'' I couldn't help but smile. I told her everything I could about how the icy water felt. Or how the hard cold rock under my bottom was uncomfortable. And how my hair falling onto the back of my neck and bare shoulders tickled, and sometimes made me shiver. Everytime I described these senses to her, I tried to delve into further detail, sometimes I would even make things up just to see her smile and ponder what I meant by `` itchy'' or `` tingle''. Audrey wouldn't know for sure, of course, because Audrey is a ghost. Or at least, we think that she is. There's no way to know for sure, I guess. I guess is a phrase a use a lot given my circumstances. Audrey and I live next to our lake, in our forest. I can still feel, but we think that we have been here for the same amount of time. I don't remember a life without Audrey, and she doesn't remember much of one without me either. When I opened my eyes all of those years ago to silver hair flowing over my face, and the yellow mid day sun shining through the strands causing me to squint, I was afraid. The sun made her thin hair seem like strands of metal, and the first time I heard her voice I thought it was the metal strands rubbing together. Her voice is frightening, and if she could feel she would have felt my head bump into hers as I hurriedly sat up. `` Who are you?'' Was all she said. I opened my mouth to answer, and was confused when nothing came out. Who am I? `` I... don't really know.'' I managed to say, my", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0248", "text": "59 cents at the grocery store, and she comes *here* and pays 4 dollars for it?'' `` That's right sugar.'' She said. `` Lem me go get her order real quick.'' She walks down the aisle to where the tired, return guest was sitting. `` What'll it be today barbie?'' pulling out her notepad and paper, already writing *tomato soup* on it. The old women cleared her throat in a dirty gust, and began to speak. `` It's so hard to choose here! Everything looks good.'' Running her finger down the page on the menu. `` Well you can have it all, if you got the money to do it.'' she jokingly said. `` Maybe if we hit the lottery huh Barbie?'' `` Ya maybe so.'' barb mumbled. `` Well after a long thought about it, I think I'll go with the..'' pausing, `` tomato soup!'' `` That sounds excellent dear.'' Licking her finger, and walking towards the kitchen to ladel the soup out of the pot. The man at the far end of the counter turned on his stool to face to lady a few seats away. `` Hey there barb.'' he blurts, `` What did ya decide on?'' Raising her head and tilting it to see him, she answered, `` Well, I heard through the grapevine the cook here makes the best tomato soup!'' `` You know,'' crossing his legs, `` That's what everyone always says.'Guess you picked the right thing.'' The waitress returned with the steaming red soup, swaying in a white cup. `` Here ya go, hot off the presses.'' As the she pushed the soup across the counter towards barb. `` Thank you miss..'' looking around distressed, `` but uh.. I'm gon na have to pass this evening.'' *She always does this* the waitress sullenly thought. *Why even go through the motion. * The lady struggling to lift off the stool and stand, turned around and mumbled, `` I'm off to the nieces, you know how kids are... never can wait around.'' She limped towards the door, turned the knob and briskly left the restaurant. `` What was that all about?'' the man speaking down the counter. `` Oh you know, that's just how she is. Always orders, never even touches it though.'' Placing the cup in the bin under", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0249", "text": "`` She's dead. How can she be gone?'' For 3 whole months, these were the only thoughts I could even think. I was a changed person. I now listened to country music. Yuck. The [ songs ] ( https: //m.youtube.com/watch? v=7qH4qyi1-Ys ) speak to me more, now, though. I write poems. I *like* writing poems. I went through all the stages of depression: denying it, crying, lashing out. Nothing helped. Finally, I realized I had to move on. Everyone stopped pitying me after 3 months, but they don't know how it feels! They have no idea. I had hoped their loved-ones died so they can see my pain. So I could finally connect with someone again. Anyone. I was finally getting over my slump, when my old college-roommate approached me about a new'drug.' I didn't even know he was still alive. He was such a religious-nut, I figured he'd died for some meaningless-cause years ago. He said it would make me feel better. Weed hadn't help. Valium hadn't helped. Herion seemed to do the job, but I'm so scared of needles. She wouldn't have approved. Elizabeth wouldn't have approved of me doing drugs. She left the though! She's dead! She can't make decisions for me! I figured this new drug couldn't be worse than herion, so I gave it a try. My first time, I felt like I was just really high. It was great. It was like that feeling of your first time smoking dank weed. My mind was going crazy. I knew what I needed to do, I knew that Elizabeth would have wanted me to be happy, and that she was sad that I wasn't doing everything I could to be the amazing person I truly was. She was sad that I'd been experimenting with drugs. The next time I took the drug, which was called الآخرة ( I've only ever seen it written, figure it was some weird religious thing Tom was always going on about ), it wasn't as strong, but I had quite an out-of-body experience. It was a mix of nostalgia and omnipresence. I felt that I could recall all of the emotions and feelings everyone in life had ever felt toward me. I could feel Elizabeth", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 490, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0250", "text": "The singing, pinging, ringing sound that lives in side your ear That continuous, constant, ceaseless noise is currently here - 'There is no medication,' the doctors say,'Live with it,' they said 'There is no magic cure for this, not medicine, not bed.' - 'Merely a hallucination, and that can not be fixed.' 'Just live your life, and do n't, on it, be transfixed.' - That's easy for them to say, the doctors and the nurses They do n't have to live inside their heads with an ever-ringing circus - But *you* know what's it's like, you know the constant pain You feel the pinging, always there, the noise inside your brain - But if you knew the reason that you hear the endless ringing If you knew why it was really here, if you knew the nature of his singing - You would n't be complaining; you'd know that you're blessed For it conceals the secret wanderings of your unknown guest - He latches onto you and hides behind your mind He's chosen you to veil himself, to you to be confined - Whilst he conducts his hidden, despicable business The events that he would not want you to witness - He makes the noise, that's him, he puts it in your ear Because without it, you'd know that he was here - And if you knew, well, that just would n't go He'd leave your mind and drag you down below", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 303, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0251", "text": "fff, pffffffffffffft.....* Slowly I opened my eyes. It was as though the whole world had slowed to nearly a halt, but somehow still moving at the same speed. He raised his fist and thrust it towards me. Time sped up again, but so did I. I moved my head slightly, easily avoiding his attack. I pushed my hand forward and grabbed his face, clutching it tightly. Then suddenly I felt energy flow through my chest and up my arm. There was harsh *Crack*. His eyes widened for a moment, then closed slowly as his body went limp. I stood in shock... still holding the body. I snapped to my senses when I heard the door behind me. I turned to see my wife, her eyes filled with concern. I dropped the body and fell backward. She walked up to me and said: `` Johnny, are you okay?'' I turned and looked up at her, tears now flowing from my eyes. `` I don't know baby... he attacked me... I needed to protect you.'' `` Protect me? from who?'' I looked forward to see his body was gone and there was nothing in front of me. Just then, I felt a tingling sensation in my hand. I looked down to see the'89' on my hand, slowly, painfully morph into a'1'. __________________________________________ In case you want a background story: Basically, John died in the car crash. When Death came to bring him to the underworld, John offered him a deal in exchange for three more months of life. Death, new to the job, decided to accept John's proposal and put his soul back into his body, which is forbidden. The process allowed John's guardian angel, a particularly powerful spirit named Wraithus, to enter into his body as well. Wraithus, who is in love with Jessica ( John's wife ), joined with John to protect him from Death until her time came as well.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 398, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0252", "text": "I'm quite late to this, not sure if it will even get read but here goes... It was 7:15 on a lousy evening in Jindabyne as Sean drove along the dark, icy road. This winter had been particularly cruel to Sean; fewer people had been staying at his lodge which forced him to cut the cleaning staff. Sean had been struggling to run the lodge and clean it. He felt he deserved some fun, something to fill him with such satisfaction and happiness. Driving along the road, he smiled. “ Where are you? ” he muttered. As he drove around a bend, there she was. She was young, probably around 21. Her blonde hair blew to one side in the wind. She was clinging on to her backpack and stood stiff like a post with one arm out. “ There you are. ” Sean said blissfully. There she was. Sean pulled up the fixed blade in his boot, just touching it made his heart race. He pulled to the side of the road and opened the door. “ Do ya need a lift, love? ” He yelled over the wind. She stared at him, Sean worried he had already scared her, she ’ s so small and helpless he thought. “ I can call you a taxi but you might be waiting a while. ” With that she gathered her things and got in the front seat. They sat in silence for a while, Sean was trying to be patient, he didn ’ t want to seem too eager but he had been longing for this for quite some time. It had been almost 8 months since his last kill and 8 months wasn ’ t enough to suffice. “ You know where you ’ d like to go? ” He pushed. She turned to him and he almost groaned when he saw her sad, grey eyes. “ I ’ m hungry. ” She stated. So am I Sean thought. “ Alright, well I can take you into town? Get you a nice hearty meal, what do ya say? ” Sean said in fatherly voice. The girl nodded. For the first few minutes Sean and the girl said nothing. Sean was excited, too excited. He could smell her lavender shampoo and it was driving him crazy. He kept thinking of what her name might be, how when the moment that she told him her name, he would never forget it. She was his now, no one else ’ s. “ How long will it take to get", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0253", "text": "I questioned my choice on that first day, and on several subsequent days. By the time summer came around, I was enjoying it of course. But then autumn came again, and fat clouds brought more questions. I always walked my section of the Thames, never any other, not even on my own time. The filthy serpent that snakes through London had never interested me, and still doesn't. I passed through Rotherhithe Docks and paused, the rain falling around me in sheets, splashing off a nearby awning with a roar. I recall this now, because it was the last good day. Every day since has been horrific due to my own curiosity. The other Regulators had said not to ask questions when I transferred over from the Environmental Department. As far as cushy government jobs went, this was the best. So secretive, you can't even tell yourself what you do. Just stand out in the rain with your clipboard every time the heavens open, and record all'strangeness' you see in the waters. Post the form in the box and go home. Some days, like this day, the wind was not strong enough to move the mist from the murky surface, and it made it difficult for me to see the eddies. Never get too close, they said. I stared at a dark twist in the current and hunched deeper into my raincoat. I checked boxes on my waterproof sheet. I saw Ben Thompson slowly go mad. That was when I had first begged my superiors for the answers. They laughed as if we were sharing a joke but then threatened my job, and I have a family. So then I asked some of the other Regulators, even though I knew we were not supposed to fraternise outside of work. Blank faces and sullen looks. These folks knew their ebb from their flow, but never more than that. Just like me. I threw my legs over the barrier and landed knee deep in brown slime. My hood slipped and my hair immediately plastered to my face in the deluge.'Never get too close, they said', I murmured as I waded to the water's edge, past sunken shopping carts and drowned sea birds. Never get too close. Never ask questions. Two rules, both broken. I learned that when you see it for the first time, you will always see it. The clamour beneath the chaotic surface. Dark shades of fingers and translucent twists", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0254", "text": "her dying moments. Her throat had a widened cut, her life ’ s essence contrasting with her pale skin. One of her hands was safeguarding the small bump that seemed to protrude from the shades of blue robes she adorned. The other loosely grasped the hand of the man next to her. The white and golden robes of the dead man were shredded and soiled. Blood still gushed from the large slash across his chest. His head lolled forward to crouch over a wooden box. His other hand held the chest in place. “ What is that, ” Safia whispered to herself while she rolled up her sleeves and tried to grab the chest from the man ’ s lap. She tugged and tugged until the treasure escaped from the surprisingly strong grip. She jolted away from the cart when it came into her possession. Quite unexpectedly, the chest was slightly open. Stepping back slowly, Safia opened it. “ Ya, Allah! ” she cried in wonderment as her eyes settled on an amount of gold coins she had never come to know before. They filled the container to the brim. Believing it to be unreal, she felt the coins ’ indentations and continued to be flabbergasted. “ You've showered me with such blessings, ” she looked towards the sky. Whoever was here never got what they came for. She looked around. They might be back to get whatever they wanted. Realizing this, the small figure hastily adjusted her brown, patched robes to try and hide the chest within the mess of cloths and pulled her scarf over her head. She made her way past the bushes she came from and away from this adventure. Maybe now she could leave the broken shards of her poverty forever on the dirt of this isolated forest. Hidden behind a few trees, a dark figure peered at the retreating girl. It was going to go back for the chest but now that was unnecessary. It tugged a golden lamp further away into its robes as if to shroud it away from the entire world. Chuckling to itself, the silhouette swiftly turned and walked towards the silent, submissive horse a few feet away. The plan went perfectly, it got exactly what it wanted. It would now be Baal ’ s master.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 460, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0255", "text": "`` Well?'' Eli peered over my shoulder as I scanned through my GeoWatch. `` I don't know,'' I said, as I discretely pointed my wrist at the cute girl across the bar. `` This seems kind of... stalkerish.'' The watch recognized its target and quickly began sorting through my location history. Eli pushed at my shoulder. `` Come on, man,'' he said, `` it's pretty ingenious. I mean, it's the perfect conversation starter!'' He hopped up from his bar stool and began a haphazard impression of my pickup skills: ``'Hey there, have I seen you somewhere? Were you at that Barnes and Noble on Fifth Street?''' He reached for his beer glass and chugged it back. ``'Why yes, I like to read as well...''' his voice trailed off as he started laughing uncontrollably. I rolled my eyes. *Ding! Ding! * A metallic beeping noise indicated that my GeoWatch had finished its scan. I glanced down at the tiny screen. The algorithm had returned 7 matches. `` Holy shit,'' I said out loud, to no one in particular. I scrolled down the list of previous encounters, with the first one beginning... I nearly spat my drink out. I had to squint my eyes and lean in closer to make sure I read it correctly. *March 15, 2015. * I was only 5 years old, then. What were the odds? I hadn't even lived in the city then, that was back when I lived in Georgia. Even so, there was something else about this particular date that struck a chord; I racked my brain to figure out why, until the obviousness of it hit me like a train: that was the day my dad died. *Okay, either some asshole just hacked me, or this chick has the worst timing. * Just out of curiosity, I checked the second match. *June 29, 2035. * The day my girlfriend of eight years had broken up with me. *What the fuck!? * I kept scrolling. *August 13, 2036. * My mom died. *December 4, 2038. * I got fired from my job. *July 15, 2039. * I shuddered. That was a particularly bad day -- it was the day I tried to kill myself. *July 16,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0256", "text": "I suppose.'' `` Please excuse us.'' He pulled Zeus away. `` That was quite clever, separating me from him.'' `` I do my best.'' `` I still have more tricks up my sleeve. You'll see.'' Hades pointed to a cart. Before Zeus could blink, the horses immediately ran towards the man. Zeus jumped just in time to push him out of the way. `` Are you okay, again?'' `` Yes, thank you again. They call you Achilles, right?'' `` Well, yes and no.'' `` What do you mean?'' `` In due time.'' A man rushed up from behind. Sword drawn, he swung down, but Zeus blocked it just in time. `` Why are you protecting me like this?'' `` Pay it no mind,'' he said as the man toppled over. `` You see I merely-'' A rumbling was heard. Screams followed a massive hole in the Earth emerging beneath their feet. Zeus picked up the man, jumping over every obstacle to get him to safety. A large magma figure emerged from the hole. `` WELL, WELL, WELL, MY BOY! YOU SEEM TO BE QUITE THE LUCKY ONE! WHY, EVEN THE GODS ARE ON YOUR SIDE!'' it bellowed. `` What-what's going on?'' `` Fine. HADES YOU SHALL NOT WIN!'' `` Ah, but you see, Zeus my boy, I already am.'' He snatched at the man. Zeus moved quickly, swiftly moving from danger. `` GIVE UP!'' He said as he shot at Hades with lightning. The beast flinched, and turned into a human form. The hole closed. `` WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?'' `` You see sir, Hades and I had a bit of an agreement.'' `` A gentleman's challenge, so to speak.'' `` Yes. I apologize, but your life was on the line for the sake of this challenge.'' `` What was the reward?'' `` Well, given as Hades lost-'' `` I did not!'' Zeus smacked him across the face. `` Okay fine, Here.'' A wolf hound appeared in his hand. `` A wolf? You nearly killed me for a *wolf*?'' `` No, no. Not just a wolf. This is the son of Cerberus. If Hades had this, there would be no end to the power filling the Underworld.'' ``", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0257", "text": ", “ Okay… ” She clapped her hands excitedly and closed her eyes, “ Go on… ” “ ‘ He stepped down, avoiding any long look at her as one avoids long looks at the sun, but seeing her as one sees the sun, without looking. ’ ” She paused for a moment to let it sink in. “ That was beautiful, ” she finally said, “ what ’ s it from? ” “ That ’ s Tolstoy, ” he answered, “ Anna Karenina. ” “ I like the idea there… seeing without seeing, loving without knowing the whole of who you love, ” she said wistfully, turning back to the window, “ Like… you meet someone so beautiful, so perfect, that you have to turn away, because to look at them, to stare them in the eye, you would just be overwhelmed by them… ” “ I know what you mean, ” he said, and turned to stare out the window with her. -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - “ Okay, before we approach our next room, I ’ d like to ask you all to please be very quiet, ” the instructing physician told the newest batch of nurses in training, “ We try not to disturb them any more than is needed. ” “ Are they dangerous? ” one of the nurses spoke up, worried. “ Oh, heavens no, ” the physician told them, “ These two wouldn ’ t hurt anyone. No, I ’ m asking that you not disturb them as a courtesy. ” Some of the nurses tried to peer through the small window without touching it or making any noise. One looked confused and turned to the physician. “ Are they catatonic? ” “ Not at all, ” the physician frowned, “ they ’ re both very responsive. They act completely normal when our staff goes in to feed them or get them ready for bed. You wouldn ’ t even know anything is wrong. But when we leave them alone, they spend most of their time staring out the window like that. ” “ What is their diagnosis, sir? ” a young woman in the back asked quietly. Suddenly, the young man in the room spoke up, `` Hello?'' The trainees all froze, worried that they had been heard. A moment later, they heard the woman ’ s voice, “ Yes? ” They looked up to the physician for an indication, but he just stood there silently, with a frown", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0258", "text": "Fond memories came to me in dream-like visions as I held my mother's hand. The steady rhythm of the machines that were struggling to keep her alive faded away. In its place, I heard my scampering footsteps through the kitchen and smelled the sweet, salty aroma of freshly baked cookies. My mother, much younger, stood in front of a piping hot oven in her cooking garb. Carefully she carried the cookies to a waiting tray to cool before quickly swatting my hand as I moved to steal a molten morsel. The scene skipped ahead to us sharing a cookie at the table, it was beginning to cool as was my mother's hand. “ Hey, ” I said, gently shaking my mother's shoulder as the vision broke. “ Hey, would you tell me how you used to make those cookies? ” “ What? ” she asked weakly. “ Of all things, why now? ” “ Because that's how I remember you best, ” I replied with tears in my eyes. “ Hmm, ” she said, turning her head away from me. She continued thinking for a time as coughs rattled her thin frame. “ No. I think it's best that we let it die with me, son. ” “ But-why?! ” I replied, shaking my head fiercely in disagreement. I was surprised by just how much this meant to me. “ Everyone loved your cookies! I loved making them with you and sharing them with you, don't you remember- ” “ Now, you know I do, ” she interrupted with a reassuring pat on the back of my hand. “ Please, mom ” I pleaded. “ It's all I want. Share with me one last time. ” “ Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you, ” she relented as she struggled to turn her body towards me. “ Grab that pad and pen there and get to writing. ” “ Okay, ” I said, hastily scooping the items from her bedside stand as she broke into another fit of coughing. This time it was productive. Her hands were stained red as I watched in horror. “ Mom- ” “ Listen up, I'm only going to get to tell you once before I croak, ” she said in her old tone with a slight smile on her haggard face. “ You'll want 2 cups flour, not that self-rising stuff. The all-purpose kind. A", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0259", "text": "“ Holy sweet fuck of Zeus! ” I screamed out, gripping the hand rail, attached within our autopod. I ’ d never trusted these automated flying machines, when I was young we drove ourselves places and we got there just fine, but now add flying to the mix and holy moly, that ’ ll get my heart going. However, it wasn ’ t an accident or any kind of auto related incident. It was what was playing in the vehicle ’ s speakers. A song. A song I remembered hearing long, long ago and had forgotten. I suddenly remembered hearing the song as a child, my father playing it for me. I remembered remembering the song in my teen years and trying to find it and failing. I remembered giving up in my twenties. And now. At least seven decades later, here it is. I ’ d searched, I ’ d hunted, I ’ d hummed it out to people. I ’ d never bumped into again until that day. “ What ’ s the matter, Dan? ” Zybro looked to me funny, scanning me with his data ports. “ This song! ” I pointed at the radio. “ What ’ s this song?! ” Zybro emitted a slight laughter from his speakers and pressed a small button on the auto ’ s entertainment display. A screen popped up, reading: “ Fire On High. Electric Light Orchestra. ” “ That ’ s… It ’ s by Electric Light Orchestra?? I ’ d always heard them, but I never listened to them… HAH! ” I laughed wildly. “ Fire on High. Fire on High ” I repeated, like a mantra, trying to remember it. “ Don ’ t you have memory notes? ” Zybro questioned. “ Nope, never got them installed. All I got done was my ID and my bank card. Fire on High. Fire on High… Electric Light Orchestra. ” I nodded, smashing my hands on my knees to the beat of the awesome music. “ If you had a SherlockBeatz chip you could have found out the song years ago, ” Zybro crossed his legs. “ Yeah, but then I wouldn ’ t be this happy when I found it just now, ” I rocked my head back and forth, closing my eyes. “ Pff, ” Zybro snorted. Kids these days.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 472, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0260", "text": "`` PREPARE TO DROP OUT OF TRANSWARP'' the voice boomed over the intercom system. `` It doesn't matter how much drazamine they pump into me, I always get sick after a jump lieutenant'' Higgins whined. Higgins was your standard asset collector, gruff, older, salty. Despite all his toughness, there was one thing that always managed to make him curl up into a fetal position, and that was the motion sickness associated with transwarp travel. `` It'll be the same as all the other times. Try not to think about it.'' Lieutenant Marl tried to ease the asset collectors nerves. `` If the Saurian DNA evolved according to specs, we'll need you at full constitution, no weakness'' A millennia ago, we had come to this planet, and left the seeds for the universes ultimate weapons. Called `` Saurians'' these were living weapons. Once a breeding population was dropped on a planet, they would wipe out the indigenous population within a matter of a year, while leaving the majority of plant and infrastructure intact. The Galactic Council preferred this method of warware and planet cleansing. Unlike the tactical nukes which left a planet uninhabitable for eons, or a GRB which had to be carefully aimed and often times stripped a planet of it's atmosphere ( or worse, directly hit a planet destroying it ) a Saurian campaign was considered to be the most environmentally friendly way of clearing a planet for depopulation. `` DROPPING OUT OF TRANSWARP IN 5'' `` I'm gon na be sick!'' Higgans cried. `` 4'' `` 3'' `` 2'' `` It's in your head Higgans, MAN UP!'' `` 1'' Suddenly the hum of the Transwarp drive stopped. The entire ships contents lurched forward a bit, still carrying the momentum of transwarp. Higgins as usual layed on the floor, clutching his stomach and screaming in agony. `` Just fucking suit up, I have no time for this primadonna bullshit'' said Lt. Marl. Asset collectors used a cognitive projection suit in their duties. Saurians, despite being great weapons, were absolute idiots. They were 100 % pure instinct, with no higher level brain functions. The cogsuit as it was affectionately called, allowed the operator to impart his cognitive consciousness on creatures with a lesser mind, allowing the asset collector to", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0261", "text": "a cool, welcoming surface. He plunged the craft into an approaching dust plume, shielding him from the sun but leaving him blind to any hidden dangers. The recklessness of the course set in familiar feelings of panic as the craft shook and rolled but he fought the urge to pull away. Not this time, he promised himself as clouds of stormy grey billowed past the window. Hold on, he thought. Remember the gravity. Remember the pull. And then he was through. The comet's rocky surface loomed large before him and it was glorious in its perfection. He slammed the attitudinal controls, setting the landing sequence a little aggressively in his haste to join the surface. Outside he could see a chunk of hailstone shoot up past his window, and emerge into the broad sunlight where it condensed into a single clear teardrop. He turned away, his attention back on the surface. * The teardrop coursed its way down her cheek. Ellie Harrison didn't dare look Toby in the eye for fear of breaking the moment. Her 8-year old son held her in an embrace that was surprisingly strong. Standing across the room, Toby's father looked as stunned as she felt. She could read the elation in David's face, and a reflection of her own longing for this very moment. Closing her eyes to the torrent of feelings that overwhelmed her, she managed to hold perfectly still. Her son was hugging her for the very first time. That was enough.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 300, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0262", "text": "My Dearest Love, This may come as somewhat of a shock to you, or leave you only mildly amused at what you consider to be utter bullshit, but I've loved you for longer than you could ever comprehend. By reading this, you are confirming something that I felt inside my heart for many, long years... that you are indeed the woman I will spend the rest of my days adoring, supporting and loving with every thread of my soul. My dreams have long been haunted by you. I could never quite make out your exact appearance, but I was certain it was beyond beautiful. Every waking moment your presence has whispered to me your most secret and personal thoughts. I feel we've known each other for multiple lifetimes, and I wake each morning with the hopes that it will be the day we finally meet in person. Telling my friends about this has proven unsuccessful. They laugh it off, calling me a dreamer or hopeless romantic. This is an unfounded claim, for I am indeed a hopeful romantic. Every woman I meet is compared to you intuitively. I know in an instant they are not you. I wait as patiently as I can for your manifestation in physical form, if only to embrace you tightly and shed the tears that well up inside of me. I know not if the universe actually works in this manner, but I sense that we will find each other at some point. My only hope is that you'll recognize me for who I am, and love me as I have you. Until we meet, I can only offer the following three pieces of advice: 1. Do not fret the hardships of your current relationships, for they are only stepping stones that lead you to your one true love. 2. Do n't lose that dream you've held onto of a future soul mate, best friend and father to you children. I'll find you. 3. Get new tires on that car of yours. Please. I saw the accident in a dream three nights ago and have n't slept a wink since. Yours in this world and the next. -p", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 423, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0263", "text": "( [ First WP ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2hvsy1/wp_everyone_gets_a_clock_at_birth_with_the/ckxo3gl ), [ last WP ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3vl2ub/wpwhen_youre_born_you_are_assigned_a_godfictional/cxot2jh ) ) Samu looked at the latest visitor in his office. He did a double take. That person looked like an actor in a Roman movie. Clad in a flimsy tunic and sandals, he stood at least 2 meters tall. His face and his arms were scarred. He was carrying a large, round shield. All in all, he was not the person you expect to appear in an immigration office. `` Moini! Ishpin Kiril.'' he roared. When he received only strange looks, he repeated the same sentence in Irish Gaelic. Samu grimaced. This was one of the languages he understood but when speaking mangled the grammar. He understood however that the person introduced himself as Kiril. Samu put his hands on his foreheadm a gesture he was prone to do when thinking, then he replied in Gaelic: `` May God and Mary be with you. My name is Samu, and my colleague here is Jan. Can you tell me the reason for your visit?'' Kiril looked at the ground. `` I came here to explain the worship of the Deity of Defeat to the people of Schleswig. But my ship fell into a glowing hole. Now I am here.'' This seemed strange. Samu had to ask several times whether he understood correctly. Eventually he understood: `` You tried to reach Schleswig-Holstein by boat? From where did you come?'' `` *Poblacht na hÉireann*'' Kiril said, `` but I didn't want to get to your Schleswig-Holstein, I wanted to go to my *na Shlessish*. It is a different place!'' Samu nodded: `` So you wanted to get to a place you called Shlessish, but mistravelled? Can you show me where this Shlessish is?'' Samu felt rather annoyed. He showed a map of the European Union. `` This is the Republic of Ireland, here.'' `` I can not read maps. But from", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0264", "text": "pressed the large red one, a large ERROR popped up on her screen, `` Ah shit,'' she said looking up to us, `` What did you guys do?'' `` We went and cheated on our wives,'' I said while rolling my eyes. `` No, like, what exactly did you do?'' `` Well,'' Jeremy began, `` It's blowjob Wednesday.'' `` Blowjob,'' Trisha lost volume, `` Wednesday'' `` Yeah,'' I said. `` So did you fuck your partner?'' She was looking at me with a panicked face, `` or did you just get a blowjob.'' `` She blew me.'' `` Motherfucker,'' she said, slamming her papers down, `` We send you back to FUCK hot chicks guys.'' `` So?'' `` That sperm she swallowed was Emperor Nero, who was supposed to be born from you,'' she pointed at me, `` and now the timeline we are from doesn't exist.'' `` Fuck,'' I said grabbing my comb-over, `` What can we do about that?'' `` Well I can't send you back to the same day twice,'' she tapped her pen on her stack of papers, `` but there is a way that we can make this work.'' `` How, we need to turn this around!'' `` If we change enough of the timeline that things end up extremely similar, we might be able to go to that timeline,'' she said looking at her papers, `` but you guys are going to need to fuck a lot of chicks.'' `` I don't know man,'' Jeremy turned to me, `` Are you up for this?'' `` Yeah, I think so,'' I said, looking down at my fly. It was time for the love hammer to bang this timeline back into place.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 352, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0265", "text": "`` Drop the weapon! Drop it!'' The armed policeman's bark was shockingly loud, causing the man with the handgun to flip around. Dan stared into the barrel of an assault rifle, and felt his pants get a little bit heavier. `` Put down the weapon!'' Spittle flew from under the policeman's visor and he made abrupt movements with his gun, jabbing towards Dan. Shit. Dan's plan hadn't gone this far. He had never imagined he would actually be caught. Yet here he was flanked by cops in a room with one exit. The facility must have had cameras Dan didn't know about. Shit! How could he have been so careless! The bark of the policeman brought him back into the present and he quickly dropped his gun. He hadn't planned on getting shot either, so he didn't seem to have a choice in the matter. The police around him closed in, tightening the circle around him. Dan felt the guns all aimed at his chest and panicked. Why hadn't he brought another gun? It was in that moment of panic and madness that Dan's mind broke. He felt like he had a gun, even though his eyes told him that couldn't be true. He raised his hand at the man in front of him, and with a deadly serious look on his face, Dan pushed his thumb down and said `` POW''. The tip of his index finger was so hot. The burning sensation drew his eyes to his hand, where Dan struggled to comprehend what was going on. There was a muzzle flair. From his hand. A bullet seemed to appear from nowhere and sped towards the policeman's helmet. As the man dropped and blood shot out from the hole in the man's face, there was a second of silence. A moment where noone could understand what had just happened. Then the heavily trained armed police did what had been drilled into them from years of experience. The officer to Dan's left sprinted for cover behind a pillar. To Dan's right the woman barked into her radio and opened fire. He could hear movement behind him, and the mechanical noises of a firearm. There was no time to think, no time to try and understand. Dan raised his hand and spun to his right, spamming his thumb up and down. A storm of bullets exploded towards the policewoman, and Dan dropped into a roll. He came up to the side of the pillar and burst", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0266", "text": "The Starship'The Ship' had been surrounded. Resents were pouring in from every imaginable direction and the vessel was out of fuel. The two inhabitants of the ship were standing in the ship's cockpit. The large glass ceiling surrounding the room shook, as the Resents's ships pelted them with lasers, chairs, table lamps, and other assorted items that they found lying around, the majority of these'weapons' had no effect but Resents were too stupid to realize that. `` So, this is it,'' the young, red-haired, girl asked as she stared at the shield's durability chart on one of the monitors in the room, `` Once the sheilds break down and something breaks the glass, we're done for.'' `` Kid, what have I told you,'' the twenty-something aged man, who demanded to be called'The Hero', asked, `` Whenever we get into a situation like this there is always a way ou --'' `` But the self-destruct requires so much time to get to,'' she forcefully interrupted, `` We don't have the time! And besides, we'd still need to get to the escape pod first.'' `` Then we'll just have to stall for time, get to work on opening the vaults to where the button is,'' The Hero said, sitting down in the captain's seat. Once settled down, he pulled down one of the monitors that hung above the seat and with it one of the microphones. `` What're you doing? Say something about us being spies?'' `` No, I have a better idea that they can't prove.'' He opened up the communications application on the monitor and searched through the'nearby ships' option to find what he was looking for: the fleet's commanding ship. Soon after beginning the transmission, the monitor's screen changed to showing a dark interior of a ship with a single, gooey grey figure on the other side. The Hero simply smiled as it began to talk. `` This Fleet Girelpish. Reetreet Nebulae, surrender or destroyed,'' the figure stated in a loud and booming voice. The threat, however, didn't appear to be all that serious to The Hero, mainly because of the figure's poor English and seemingly made up words. `` Hey, cool your jets, I'm The Hero and this is my partner The Kid,'' he tilted the monitor to the girl, who was busy plugging away at a screen on", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0267", "text": "silhouettes in the distance. Anna could see just enough to know they must be people. *Lee... Leah? No... * One of the silhouettes moved around more than the others. Something about the movements seemed agitated. *Li... Liam? Ah, yes, sounds so familiar... * She felt a surge of warmth fill her chest. Something about finding the name – thinking it, even – breathed life into her. *Liam! * Memories swirled through Anna's mind, rapidly producing images of his goofy smile and the feelings of butterflies filling her stomach. *Of course, the box... that was the night he... * Anna remembered the ring. Liam had been so nervous, he'd dropped the ring into a piece of cheesecake. Anna giggled to herself. Her laughter came out as gurgles, and her memories retreated. She felt an uncomfortable twitch in her back. *Where am I? * An image popped into her head – something moving unnaturally fast. Her shoulders tensed, bracing for impact. *That... was... that hit me. It must have hit me. * Suddenly, Anna realized where she was. She remembered the meeting with the insurance company, she remembered being on the fence about the ridiculous price tag, and she even remembered the pamphlet. *The Future of Life Insurance*, that's what it had said. Anna squinted again as she scanned her body, noticing the thin tubes attached to various parts of her body. *Only this isn't my body. It's an... empty shelf, a copy. A clone. My Clone... * Anna tried to remember what had happened to Liam. She hadn't seen him getting struck by the debris, but they had been sitting so close. Their hands had been touching. Anna's back began to hurt, as if something was twisting her spine. She felt her legs, but her toes seemed to have gone numb. She could see more clearly now, and the silhouettes were unmistakably human. Many of the people were surrounding the agitated person, and a few had their arms moving, in what appeared to be explanatory gestures. Anna's back twitched again, and she looked down to her feet. Her vision was pretty clear at this point, and she saw her knees and toes floating. She tried to stretch her toes, but they didn't move. She tried bending her knees. They didn't budge. The ag", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0268", "text": "motioned towards the door, silently telling Marin that he needed some air. When the barn door swung shut behind him, Marin spun back on the angel. Three days ago, he had been caught harvesting a soul from their neighbor, and they jumped on the opportunity of taking him prisoner. The neighbor didn't make it, unfortunately, but losses had become the norm ever since Heaven and Hell met on Earth. `` You're a fallen angel, correct?'' She whispered, yanking Jacob's knife from its place in the table. The angel merely glared at her, though he was more surprised than angry. Her entire aura had shifted dramatically within a fraction of a second. `` Don't bother lying, I know you are. The burns on your back- two slits that perfectly match the outline of wings. You were cast out. Tell me, Halo, if your loyalty is not with your so-called brothers and sisters of Heaven, then who is it with?'' He actually looked dumbfounded by her words. He was looking her up and down, taking in slow, shaky breaths, until he finally sighed. `` You caught me.'' He breathed. `` I am not aligned with Heaven.'' `` But surely you wouldn't work for demons?'' He laughed sourly, the action shaking the chains that held him in place. For a second, Marin wondered if the sigils branded onto the iron would still be able to hold him. `` I'd rather die than say I work for those black-eyed abominations. No, I work for a much... greater cause.'' He spat more blood onto the ground. His eyes met Marin's, their deep ocean blue struggling to connect with her in any way possible, but it wouldn't work. He was far too weak to use any kind of mind games. Marin glanced over her shoulder to make sure Jacob was still outside, and then turned back to the angel. `` Why are you telling me all of this now? You weren't talkative five minutes ago.'' `` Why did you suddenly change your questions when Jacob left the room?'' Marin bit her tongue and turned her eyes down to the floor. This angel fell, so he must have done something upstairs to warrant getting booted, but the major question on her mind was *who* his boss was. That was the information she wanted out of him, but it would be nearly impossible to break out of him. The angel shifted in his chair", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0269", "text": "Its been a while since i felt the guilt. Everyday i see women, men, children walk up to the fountain, and throw a coin in. Sometime hoping for an escape, sometimes hoping for gain, and sometimes, rarely, hoping for someone. I would take one a day, usually. at the end of the week i had something i could sell, such as disney land tickets, or a diamond ring. The amount of job offers i've had for jobs i could never do still surprises me, and the amount of barbie dolls in their clear, pretty packaging will always give me a little grin. I steal wishes. Ive always been able to. I dont know what they are before I steal one. Today, after my usual'heist', i was about to leave, when I saw a little girl, dressed a little rough, all alone, take out a rusty two pence coin out of her pocket, look around a little and toss it in. out of pure curiosity, I took the wish. Within a second, i had pulled out my wallet, and ran over to her. i gave her every penny i had. I smiled at her and walked away, and she seemed to have a puzzled grin on her face as I did so. As soon as whatever wish I had wore off, I started running, because the emotions and the energy running through me, were so alien, and so amazing. I had to find this girl and ask her what she wished for. As I ran and ran around the gardens I spotted her skipping, with an ice cream cone in my hand. Strange, I thought, how I didnt feel annoyance at her taking my money like that, as i usually would have. I yelled out to her, she stoppped and turned, puzzled. I had to ask her. *'' what did you wish for?! at the fountain? `` * the little girl, a smile on her face, said *'' I want the person standing across from me at the fountain to be as happy as I am'' *", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 415, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0270", "text": "her New York studio apartment, and the first thing she felt was pain. Her makeup was smeared across her face and pillow and her head was pounding. `` Yep, this is definitely November 1st'' she mumbled to herself as she rolled out of bed. Last night was Halloween, and she decided to make a bold move and make a statement with her costume. `` I'm tired of all these loose girls with their'slutty this' and'sexy that' costumes. It's all just a cry for attention. I'm gon na get one of those costumes this year, just to show how easy it is to be the center of attention when you dress like that.'' She had said to her friend the week before. In a way, she was right. Every guy was talking to her at the bar, and all she had to do was wear a little less fabric. Sarah smirked to herself as she made her way to the bathroom, proud of her proven point. She stumbled through the doorway and flipped on the lights. She rubbed her burning eyes and leaned into the mirror, staring into her own eyes through the mirror. They weren't her eyes. They were wide and bright, with long, thick lashes. Sarah shot back, stunned. She gasped and leaned back into the vanity, examining the rest of her face. Her lips were full and thick, her skin clear and tan. She was stunning. More importantly, she had never looked like this before. ``... I need to stop drinking.'' Sarah whispered to herself. She ran to her bed and pulled her sheets off, searching for her phone. She wanted to call her friends for an explanation, but her phone was no where to be found. She came to the conclusion that she must have left it at the bar again. Sarah sat on her bed and took a few deep breaths. `` Well... This is freaky. I mean... I'm not complaining. I could've woken up ugly.'' She chuckled to herself. Her chuckle grew into a howl, and she sprung up from the bed in a hysteria. `` I'm hot! I'm hot!'' She sang to herself, dancing about the room. She hadn't asked herself why, and frankly, she didn't see a reason to. She didn't have a care in the world, and her over-night makeover was nothing more than cosmic happenstance. She went to her closet to grab an", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0271", "text": "`` Oh God, is it Gang Day again already?'' asked Mimi. I had n't heard her this disgusted since we stepped in roadkill that had dragged itself up onto the sidewalk. `` I do n't know,'' I said, as we walked past the multicolored, glittering display booths on our way to the cafeteria. `` I've always kind of liked Gang Day.'' Above the nearest booth, a bright red banner displayed its message in blocky yellow letters: *ARE YOU A BAD ENOUGH DUDE TO JOIN THE DRAGON NINJAS? * `` Look,'' I said, pointing at the Dead Pandas table. `` Those guys even offer you a free gun when you join.'' `` You ever think there might be more to life than slaughtering one another in the streets?'' asked Mimi. `` Sounds like somebody's been playing Hippy Simulator 2036,'' I said. `` You know as well as I do that gang violence is the only thing keeping overpopulation in check. And anyway, it's loads of fun.'' Mimi pursed her lips. `` C'mon,'' she said, dragging me away, `` let's go get our meat cubes.'' `` Taco-flavored Thursday,'' I proclaimed, sweeping my left arm in a wide, epic arc. `` Truly the best day of the week.'' Behind us, a dispute over brochure distribution tactics boiled over into enthusiastic fisticuffs between neighboring booths. I paused to watch -- it looked like the Serpents had the upper hand, but then the Black Death recruiters produced a couple of wicked switchblades -- but Mimi pulled me away before I could see any more.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 338, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0272", "text": "Sitting in the many cells of Auschwitz, I somberly took a glance around. Death and misery was all that greeted me. From the start, I knew I wouldn't had lasted forever, but I had clung onto the hope that I would survive. Even as I waited day by day for the Gestapo to come bursting through my door, that hope had stayed with me. Then came the day, three hard knocks, then the voices called out, `` Gestapo!'' My heart dropped into my stomach, and I found myself walking towards the door slowly. A twist of the knob, and I found myself staring into the hard and collected faces of the Gestapo, `` Yes?'' My voice had surprisingly sounded calm. I expected to be cuffed, beaten, and sent into the back of the car in a matter of seconds, I had expected to feel nothing but pain as they jeered at me, calling me names, but there was one thing I didn't expect. `` Hilterjugend? You want me to join?'' They didn't know I was a Jew! My mood elated quickly at this revelation, could I save myself from the horrors that my very neighbors had found themselves in? The name bounced around in my head, and my mood began to free fall as I realized what this could mean, could I pretend to be someone I was not? Could I sentence other Jews to the concentration camps in order to save my own life? I could not. And thus, I ended up here. The sights of the gas chambers had beckoned towards me, the many flames danced and burned away at not only my hope, but the very warmth around me. I would be dead soon, I realized. I heard a guard walking towards me, perhaps he would yell at me some more, or perhaps I would fall to his baton, in hopes that I would break and beg for solace. I would not. `` Leopold?'' My head turned, how long has it been since I had heard my name? In here, names did not mean a thing. The guard's face shone with the light he had in his hand, my eyes scanned his face, and suddenly, I recognized who this man was, `` Franz!'' I had grown up with this man, many days in our childhood had we laughed and played together. Laughter and joy marked every day of our friendship, and the both of us enjoyed", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0273", "text": "through. The wall crumbled away like it was made of paper, and a large hole formed around my fist. Inside the wall, my hand had landed on something... sticky. A putrid smell surrounded my nostrils. I immediately recoiled. From within the wall, a single shape appeared, illuminated by the dim light of the guest bedroom: a human eye, staring at me angrily. It blinked. `` What the fuck!?'' I screamed out. I jumped away, running down the stairs and outside of my parent's house. I ran down the front yard toward the street -- A woman, dressed in black, appeared out of nowhere. It was dark, so her dirty face was only partially visible underneath the streetlamp. She had the same eye, staring at me. I screamed, but nothing came out. The woman-thing approached me, her eyes burning into the back of my skull. She reached out a hand and touched my temples. A vision flashed in my mind. A woman was laying in bed, coughing hysterically. `` Please,'' she said between gasps of air. `` I think I should go to the hospital.'' I didn't recognized her at first, due to her nappy hair and blotched skin, but soon the realization dawned on me: this woman in the vision was my mother. My dad walked into the room, holding a glass of water. `` No, honey,'' he said. He turned away from my mother and removed a small vial from his coat pocket, pouring it into the glass of water. He turned back around and offered it to my mother. `` Drink this,'' he said. `` It'll make that coughing go away.'' My mom sighed. `` Ok, if you say so.'' She took a big gulp of it. The image faded away. The next thing I knew, I was standing in the front yard, the woman-thing staring at me. A single tear fell from her cheek. `` Mom?'' I said. Then, it hit me. I hadn't seen my mom yet since I came back. When I arrived earlier today, my dad told me she had already gone to see some friends before the show. `` She'll really hate missing you,'' he said with a grin on his face. The apparition disappeared as two bright headlights approached from down the street. It was my parent's car, with only my dad sitting at the driver's seat. He pulled into the", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0274", "text": "The librarian looked up and smiled when he entered. Its Saturday and he's in the library again. Lee walked in and looked around at his world. A beautiful world that people with a passion had built. And he was all alone again. Of course there's that weird guy that comes in to read the newspaper, he'd seen him over the weeks and thought the paper is less than a buck to have delivered, why drive here cheapskate. Anyway, what was on the menu today. Roaming up and down the isles looking at the funny numbering system 101.001 -500 to the left, 101.501-1000 on the right. Its nice to be able to understand what you're looking for. He liked this library, it still had an old fashioned card catologue. Science. It makes sense.'What subject though'. Flipping cards over and over'Newton?' Can I understand this? Sure if they could figure this stuff out 300 years ago, i should be able to understand it now. A scrap of paper with some obscure numbers on it and off he goes. 'I've got all day.' An hour later the kid looks up and says `` this is some dry stuff''. Puts it back, while walking back, he sees Darwin. Stop.'I've heard that name before, is this they guy they're always talking about in church?' He takes a single book back to the table, sits down next to the vacant computer terminal and sits down to start thumbing thru it. Read the book a bit, do a couple searches on the computer. It seems that answers lead to more questions. 'Jeez.. is there an end to this. Is there ever going to be a final answer?' `` No'' says the voice behind him. Lee looks up and sees the newspaper guy sitting across from him. `` Uhm. Sorry, man, i guess i was thinking out-loud'. Its cool. As usual there's only you and i and staff here i really don't worry much about disturbing anyone anymore. That's some heavy stuff you're reading. Darwin? Origin of the species. Interesting, but dry. What else you been nosing around in? I was trying to read some Newton earlier, but that was even dryer than this. Do you know anything about this stuff? I keep hearing these names mentioned when i go to church and they really seem to hate these guys. Saturday is my day when when i", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0275", "text": "he saw a trail of particles arcing behind his fist, as if materializing out of the air. He stopped the swing and the particles caught up, dousing his arm and creating a light sheen. He glanced at the grave, hopelessness taking him. He heard her words repeating again, *Do not stay*. `` So this is to be my deliverance,'' he said. And he knew she was right. What use to give up on his world, their first home? It was not fair for her, and he had wasted far too long in the realization. `` I'm sorry, Alex.'' He licked the water evaporating from his arm, yielding instant relief and offering him a renewed vigor. He reached both hands toward the sky, feeling the water drifting, minute. He grasped, and *pulled, * collecting the water into a small ball before him. It floated there, shifting in the air until he directed it into his mouth, letting it slosh around before swallowing. He patted the grave and stood slowly, making his way toward the barn. Years of dust shook off the tarp as he uncovered his old motorcycle. He had kept it in case he ever found the courage to leave, a long abandoned prospect. He filled the tank and set the spare gas into a storage container attached to the back, where he found two cans of beans and some wax-covered cheese that he had forgotten about. It would have to do. He just hoped he could find some additional materials along the way. Fortunately, the engine started and he had naught but gas, beans, cheese, and the clothes on his back to take. And, evidently, water anywhere he could draw it from. He took the bike out front and looked once more at the grave, kneeling to collect some dirt in his hands. `` When we meet again, I shall have many stories for you. `` Goodbye Alexandria.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 387, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0276", "text": "`` You hit me in the leg, you git!'' I turned the corner to the sound of Ron shouting, and the sight of him hopping around on one leg while the other flailed around uselessly like an empty sock. `` If that's how we're going to play it...'' he leveled his wand at Harry and shouted `` Animata!,'' a spell that would make Harry dance around like a madman.... if aimed properly. Instead, the flash of blue light arced over Harry's shoulder and hit me straight in the chest. `` RON!'' I screamed. Static electricity filled the air, causing my hair to poof up even more than usual. `` Blimey, Hermione!'' Ron shouted, victorious grin changing to a look of horror. `` Hey, why aren't you dancing around?'' He looked at his wand, still covered in Spell-o-tape from when they'd hit the Whomping Willow. `` Ruddy piece of junk!'' It wasn't the wand, though. Energy was pulsing from the device in my pocket that had absorbed the blow. The Time Turner, that Dumbledore had made me *swear* not to tell anyone about. `` I've got to go!'' I shouted, ducking out of the room. `` That was weird,'' I heard Ron mutter as the door slammed shut. I reached into my pocket to check on the hourglass that I'd been using to get to all of my classes on time this year. Electricity coursed through my veins, and the glass actually shattered. `` I'd better clean up all this sand,'' I thought just as my vision went black and I passed out on the hallway floor. -- -- The sun was in my eyes. *What time was it? Why was I asleep already? * I bolted upright. *Oh god! I missed Runes class! All because of Ron and that stupid spell! * Hogwarts, however, was gone. I was in the right *place*: I recognized the lake, the Forbidden Forest, everything. But where the castle should have been, there was a herd of cattle grazing in an empty field. A lone shepard sat nearby, enjoying a picnic and very surprised to see me. `` Pardon me,'' I asked him, `` But where...'' He interrupted me, in Latin. `` I'm sorry, young lady, but I can't understand you.'' *Latin? * Thank god that", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0277", "text": "dust. It's not like people were reporting stolen teeth. Everyone still thought that parents were the ones taking them, but they thought wrong. Ever since the discovery, the teeth collected by parents had been forgeries, planted by my collectors. Ever since the discovery, the world was changed and magic became a reality. 15 years ago a few scientists discovered that these teeth give people super human powers. And the powers seem to be chosen by the user. I don't pretend to understand it, but something about the teeth of children gives regular humans powers. Is it their innocence? Youth? Large quantities of candy? I have no idea, and frankly I couldn't care less. It's a goldmine. Or at least it was. It all changed the day I went out getting some drinks with the Easter Bunny. It sounds weird, I know, but he's actually a pretty cool guy. His name's Robert, and he's from Boston. Anyway, I sell him the fairy dust he needs to become an egg laying bunny for one day out of the year. The rest of the time, he's an accountant. Bizarre, right? He said he had something really important to talk about and he just really needed a friend. I almost never do this, but I went and got black-out drunk with the Easter Bunny to make him feel better about his wife leaving him. Dear god that is the strangest sentence I've ever written. Apparently, we didn't just talk about Robert's love life. Because the next day I woke up ( around noon ) and had a voicemail. `` Hey. It's Robert. I messed up bad. Last night, after the bar, I ended up with this chick I met. Sounds good, right? Well nope. She's a real wackjob. Like a hippie or something. This morning she started going off about how my clothes were made in a sweatshop and that I exploited children for pennies. Now, listen, I was only like half awake when she was yelling at me so I was not in the best frame of mind. But she was yelling and I told her that the sweatshop thing was nothing, if she thought that was exploitation she should hear about the teeth. I knew I'd said too much but man I ended up telling her everything you told me. I don't know why, it just kinda spilled out. Jeez man, I'm sorry.'' I was", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0278", "text": "far wall and sit up, his back supported by the rotting woodwork. A break in the cloud cover cast a ray of light into the house; it was a living room, tattered and singed. Furniture had been shoved against the windows, boards had been hammered across the door, and there were people. For the first time in the war, John got his first true look at the enemy. They were men and women, some old, some young, all hunched, grey-faced, exhausted, and all carried weapons. They stared at him with dull, lifeless eyes. For what seemed to John like an eternity, nobody moved. The gunfire beyond the thin walls slowed, then stopped. The group before him shuffled, seeming unsure of what to do. Finally, John stomached his fear. “ Water… ” he croaked, reaching out the group. There was a hushed conversation among the gaunt crowd. Then a man walked forward, who must have been their leader. He was young, yet the pain in his eyes denied his age. He carried a pistol. The man walked across the room to stand before John. For a heartbeat the two locked eyes, and John realized that they were likely the same age. They might have even gone to the same schools, before the insurrection. The pistol wavered, then rose, the cold barrel pressed against John ’ s forehead. “ This is for Lisa… ” Beyond fear, John nodded, closed his eyes, and waited. But the shot didn ’ t come. The barrel fell, and John heard the young man step back amid a torrent of angry whispers. When he opened his eyes there was a face there, a young girl of no more than six. She reached for his hand and wrapped his fingers around a cracked china cup. “ Drink… ”", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 370, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0279", "text": "thought. “ You live by yourself? ” Amity asked. Sean nodded; he didn ’ t want to continue talking. The more she spoke, the weaker he became. “ Mmm solitude is bliss ” Amity said softly. “ I never understood that meaning up until about three years ago. I moved out from my mothers, went to another state and have been by myself ever since. It really is pure bliss, isn ’ t it? ” She said. He couldn ’ t take much more; she was perfect, just perfect. I want solitude with you and your lavender scent he thought achingly. “ Do you ever get lonely? ” she asked, pushing for a conversation. Sean cleared his throat, “ Sometimes, yes. Do you? ” he asking, trying to remain calm. “ Mainly on cold nights ” she said, staring at him. Sean lost all the moisture in his mouth while his forehead began to feel clammy. “ It ’ s especially cold tonight ” she said, now moving closer to him. Sean felt ill and started to feel his body turn limp. I can ’ t do this, this isn ’ t right! I can ’ t even control my body! Sean began to pull over in to an abandoned warehouse drive way. “ What are you doing? ” She said in a panicked voice. Sean turned to her and smiled sheepishly. “ I ’ m sorry that I have to do this, Amity, sweet Amity ” he said, struggling to get the words out. Then when he went for his fixed blade tucked in his boot, his whole body fell to one side. Sean was now pushed up against the driver ’ s door, he tried to grab the knife again but couldn ’ t, his arms had given way. What is happening? Sean screamed to himself. He began to panic. She ’ s going to get away! What if she goes to the police? Sean thought. He was then interrupted by Amity laughing. He tried to turn his head but couldn ’ t. She then moved his body in the centre of the seat and sat on top of him. He was confused. What was she doing? Why wasn ’ t she running? She then followed his hand and found the blade. She showed him the blade and shook her head at him mockingly. “ Now that ’ s not very friendly, is it? ” She said. He tried to scream but only managed to grunt loudly. “ Hey hey", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0280", "text": "`` But Sir...'' Bart put down his coffee and massaged the bridge of his nose. On his desk, the morning paper sat, as of yet unread. His vacation days were few and far between, and Bart liked to ease into his day whenever they occurred. Home phone numbers were reserved strictly for emergencies. `` Miss Simmons...'' he closed his eyes, picturing the look of agitation that his secretary usually made in these sorts of conversations. `` Have I stressed to you exactly what I had planned for today?'' The woman on the other lined sighed patiently. `` Yes... *Sir*... but-'' `` I was planning to spend the day with my family,'' Bart scratched the beard on his chin, `` My granddaughter Jesse just turned five years old. We were going to take her to the amusement park.'' Another sigh of muffled agitation. `` I'm terribly sorry, Mister Cubbins.'' `` Are you aware of just how rare it is for me to even *get* a full day off work?'' the old man said, now in full rant mode. `` I used to work for the most powerful man in Didd, and damn it all if I didn't appreciate the opportunity to do good work.'' He could imagine his secretary's growing impatience on the other line, but the old man slowly rose out of his recliner, grabbing his cane and getting shakily to his feet, the house's cordless phone in hand. `` I could have stayed in that dead-end job for the rest of my days, but damned if I didn't decide to make something of myself! So I spent the next thirty years building this company from the ground up. It was a whole lot of hard work for very little reward, so I don't think it's so much to ask for a moment of peace and quiet every now and again.'' He heard the sigh on the other line indicating the end of his secretary's patience, as many of his employees made when he went on such tirades, and he relented. `` So please, my dear, tell me,'' he said, sitting back down and idly glancing at the paper on his desk. `` Tell me what urgent matter demands my attention today.'' `` W-Well...'' Miss Simmons sounded uneasy. `` You may want to be re-thinking your plans today, Mr. Cubbins...'' The old man Bartholomew rubbed his eyes as took a second glance at his", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0281", "text": "any ships during the storm was because I couldn't remember the storm. I remember seeing the flashes of lightning on the horizon and the rising waves, but then there was nothing. `` Careful!'' Rudy yelled. `` Think too hard and you will remember the pain, the disparity. I've cradled you away from that. Let us start the journey to paradise.'' `` How do I know this isn't a dream?'' I asked. `` If I can't remember it happening, how do I know it's real?'' `` You don't need to know,'' said Rudy. `` The pain will be excruciating, but after you come with me you will see over time that what I've said is true. Right now reality feels like a dream. It will subside after you've had time to see that... you're not waking up.'' Rudy stood up with a solemn expression and walked towards me with his hand extended. I could not accept, though. Even if this wasn't a dream, I had to see the truth. I had to know, without a doubt, my end had come. With a burst of speed, I stood up and jumped into the fridged water. The memories came flooding back. I saw the great waves of the storm, rising among the lightning. They rocked my boat violently as it rode the crests and sinks. And then it happened. A huge wave formed above and extended its head until I could see the sky no more. The force of the crash plunged me into the deep ocean water where I was lost in the ocean currents. I struggled to find an escape, but my lungs screamed for air while I was still drowned in water. It was a horrific pain, like letting a thousand needles fall into my lungs and trachea. In light of the memory, I was no longer in the water, I was in the sky. I saw the moon shining against the surface of the ocean as I soared further and further into the sky. Still hurt from the memory of pain and death, I hung absently in the grip of Rudy as he muttered to himself. `` Always so stubborn. I warn them every time.'' -- -- -- -- -- -- -- Thank you for reading! More stories at /r/ItsPronouncedGif", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 464, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0282", "text": "chair with a restrained man. The man was an exact copy of him. Spot on, the beard, the hair cut, the small mole on his left cheek. `` Hi,'' the'him' standing up said, `` I'm sure you have a lot of questions.'' I did, but that was unprofessional. I shook my head in response. I just wanted to get this weird shit over with. `` Good,'' he said, `` I need you to kill me. THIS me!'' He quickly corrected. He continued, `` Yeah, I'm sure you recognize me. I just pulled off a heist. I needed to be in two places at once, so I made a clone.'' I only thought how. `` I'm pretty scientifically talented,'' he said in reply to my confused expression, `` I want you to kill him. It. Me, whatever the fuck. I'm tying up loose ends.'' `` Why would you hire a hit man to do it?'' I asked. `` Look man I'm a bank robber, but not a murderer. Plus he looks just like me! Think you'd be able to do the same? Just do the job and I'll pay you, dude.'' I looked at the clone sitting in the chair, tied up. He looked at me with tired, red eyes. His sorrowful expression. `` Don't do it man,'' he said, `` He's lying. I remember everything in my life. I'm an actual person. *He's* the clone! Have some god damn morals!'' `` I'm just doing a job,'' I replied. `` I'll pay you too!'' He shouted back before being silenced by a punch to the face by the standing man. The two started yelling back and forth. At me. At each other. I zoned out, closed my eyes. I blocked them out and drew my gun. -- -- -- The news was interesting the next day. `` BANK HEIST SUSPECTS FOUND! TWIN BROTHER ALSO INVOLVED! THREE BODIES AT SITE! MONEY NOWHERE TO BE FOUND!'' The headlines read. I parked my new car at my new house. I still had some junk money left over. It would take a while for the rest to be laundered, but it would last me the rest of my life if I was smart about it. All my loose ends were tied and I covered my tracks. Some other poor bastard would be", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0283", "text": "`` Please, just take it easy,'' I whispered as the mugger held his knife steadily at my wife's throat. His steady hand attested to his criminal experience. `` Transfer your entire bank account funds to mine, NOW!'' The mugger yell ed. I ground my teeth, then slowly slid my cell phone out of my pocket. `` No funny business, or you both die. It's no use calling the cops; if you do, I'll kill her and be long gone before they show up.'' I nodded slowly, shaking as my brain took in this reality. I could die. My wife could die. I unlocked my cell phone and opened my bank's online app. The seconds ticked by as it verified my password and connected to the server. `` Please, leave us some money,'' my wife pleaded with the assailant. `` All of it,'' the crook said forcefully. I sighed and hit the button to begin a new wire transfer. The only other time I'd used a wire transfer was when my wife and I got married. When your souls and very lives are so intertwined that even death can not separate you, there's no reason to have two bank accounts. I thought back to the anti-marriage propaganda my siblings had shoved on me when I had announced I was going to marry. There was a pretty big social movement to stop marrying people because 45 percent of all deaths were simply because of spouse death. Successful Wall Street traders would suddenly fall down dead because their spouse had decided that life was n't worth living. Others dropped dead because the spouse wanted to `` get back'' at their significant other for some offense. I understood the movement's point of view, but I could never see Susan as someone like that. But now, all their arguments and evidence funneled into my mind as I watched my wife's and my own life on the line. `` Hurry UP!'' The thief yelled, jerking Susan a little and putting the knife on her skin. I took a deep breath, and hit send on my screen.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 417, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0284", "text": "the hole in the man's face, there was a second of silence. A moment where noone could understand what had just happened. Then the heavily trained armed police did what had been drilled into them from years of experience. The officer to Dan's left sprinted for cover behind a pillar. To Dan's right the woman barked into her radio and opened fire. He could hear movement behind him, and the mechanical noises of a firearm. There was no time to think, no time to try and understand. Dan raised his hand and spun to his right, spamming his thumb up and down. A storm of bullets exploded towards the policewoman, and Dan dropped into a roll. He came up to the side of the pillar and burst off a few shots, taking out the man crouched in front of him. Then he took cover himself and drew a deep breath. What the hell was going on? Five years of robbery, never once caught. Then in one night he'd killed three officers. With his hands. There was no choice - he'd get life for this. The only way out was to leave no witnesses. Noone alive. On that horrific thought, he peeked around the pillar facing the two that were left. They looked scared. They didn't want to be here. Nothing could have prepared them for Dan's hands. One tried to say something, probably pleading for his life. Dan didn't let him finish the thought. He brought up both hands and watched as the bullets landed deep in the two policemen's skulls. There was a second moment of silence, the only noise the echo of gunshot. Dan stared at his fingers, and as a terrified look came over his face he did all he knew how to. Dan turned and ran.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 358, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0285", "text": "`` Overpopulation'' The man in the blue suit clicked a small remote in his hand and the screen filled with images of starving children, their eyes like rough marbles pushed not quite far enough into their heads, fantastic, horizon-filling cities that smoked and glowed like a dying fire, and, of course, the typical image of the Tokyo metro with passengers being crammed through the car doors by impassive uniformed men. `` It's reality. A horrible one. The time has come to rectify it, and the hour for half measures is past. We're in a position to possibly,'' The man in the blue suit paused, dipping his chin in a show of humility, `` save humanity from itself.'' The boardroom was silent. Smoke from various cigarettes and cigars drifted over the massive tabletop. Rain pattered on the window panes. `` Mental projection, physical control.'' The man in the blue suit clicked his controller again, and now a video of a man walking appeared on the screen. Waves emanated from an unknown source and struck him. He stopped in his tracks. `` This is a rough draft of what every man, woman, and child on earth will see. We can tweak the language, of course.'' Click. The screen faded to black and a few crisp lines of text in a modern font appeared. 'Your free trial of Life has ended. Payment, in full, of one life must be completed within five minutes.' The man in the blue suit clicked again. The screen flicked to a scene where the same man was now standing on a city street. He blinked his eyes, staring at the people around him. An old man sat on a bench, waiting for a bus. The original man's face became distraught. He stared at the old man, perhaps trying to judge just how old he was. His face changed, and his fist clenched. Suddenly, a man walking on the street behind the old man on the bench turned and wrapped his hands around the old man's throat. A car accelerated, jumping the curb and crushing several people against the wall of a building. A crash of glass was heard and the body of a woman fell down into the street, her head cracking open on the pavement. The man in the blue suit clicked the button again, stopping the video. `` I think you get the idea. Total chaos for a few years. Maybe even a decade. But then we can rebuild- start over with the knowledge we should", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0286", "text": "material. A yellow line streaking the center led to confusion of what the surface meant amongst the crowd. De'Xor gestured for silence. `` Oh... Oh... Curse it all.'' Aisir groaned, `` Bertha'll come in... Do you have the feed?'' `` We do lieutenant.'' De'Xor replied. `` You shouldn't... you shouldn't...'' Aisir continued, the feed turning towards the horizon; green fields, buildings and a bright, blue sky, stretched away from him. `` By the Council... It's... It's *beautiful*... I've never seen anything like it...'' `` Respond Aisir.'' De'Xor asked quietly. `` Never come here.'' He pleaded, `` Please. Never come here... Tell my child, I'm sorry... Captain, please, *tell my child. * Tell my family *I'm sorry*....'' `` Lieutenant,'' De'Xor responded `` I command you-'' He paused as they listened for a moment. Something had arrived nearby. A ship perhaps? The crowd shrieked as the camera rolled over to face the sky, and a masked being aiming what appeared to be a large photon at what would be Aisir's face. They listened as Aisir gasped hard for air, his lungs taking it in as much as possible. Then; he became still. Eventually, another being stepped into view. This one wore all black, and was less heavily armed. Eventually he motioned for the armored one to lower his weapon. `` He's gone.'' The being stated, `` Sit rep. Secure the area. Call in Biological for extract.'' `` Sir, yes sir.'' The armored being replied. The feed lost connection soon after, and Da'Xor was left consider what to tell the Council, as well as how to approach the lieutenant's next of kin. -- Like this story? Check out some more random stuff posted at /r/Jamaican_Dynamite/", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 407, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0287", "text": "I was an excellent actor. In my youth I had considered taking it as a career. Every time my foolish son or his air-headed wife walked into my room, I began to shake. I'd rock psychotically, never moving my eyes from the tv screen. They'd rub my back, speaking to me as if I was a child, like the leech that occupied my daughter-in-law's round belly. Sometimes they'd tell me about their mundane, worthless lives. I was worth so much more. I had so much more left to do. I was never mundane, never a boring man with a boring wife and a boring child on the way. That was why I was going to take what I deserved. I remember the day the parasite was born. They brought it into my room, holding it towards me like it was a gift of the divine. All I saw was a slobbery sacrificial lamb. It was the first time I smiled in months. They wouldn't trust me with holding it. It's not as if I asked, but it just showed how dense and self absorbed my children were. I despised them. A week after the beast was brought to it's slaughterhouse, it could sleep on it's own. Clever little fellow, didn't cause too much of a fit in the nights. My son was a horror in the nights, howling like he was possessed by a demon. Good thing this one wasn't the same. I didn't want them to hear it scream. I could hear the snores echo through the house like mighty gongs reckoning the events that were to occur. I lifted myself from my rocking chair, finally able to stand at my full length and walk with the gait that came naturally. Faking weakness was tiring. It was humiliating. But the pay off was worth it. I passed through the kitchen on my way to the nursery. The cold steel of the butchers knife gleamed in the full moon'a ethereal glow. Now my hand was shaking, not from acting but from adrenaline. I paraded through the house as if I was the mighty Ghengis Khan riding to battle. I felt superior. I felt mighty. I felt ALIVE. The door creaked as I opened it, peering through the crack as if I was in an Edgar Alan Poe novel. I saw the baby, sleeping soundly amongst the jungle themed toys and furniture. I stepped", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0288", "text": "**Edit: Woah! Gold! Thanks kind stranger! I really didn't think this was worth gold. ** `` Land ahoy! ” Was heard rising on the wind from the Crow ’ s nest. The ship ’ s sails heaved and turned as strong men started to pull on them. The ship rocked in the water as it steadily moved towards the faint outline in the distance, barely visible through the fog. From the bow of the ship, my face was splattered with icy drops of seawater as the wind ran by. My ship, the ERV Majesty had been out at sea for nearly three months, heading westwards from the Empire in search of islands. We had found a plethora a while back, but had continued on to see what else we might find. So far, we had seen some other others, but stayed away because of giant birds. The waves grew lighter as we moved closer to the land, and the wind seemed to be calming a little too. “ Heave! Ho! ” Came from behind me, on the deck, and I turned to look at them. Nothing important was going on over there, and I turned back towards the land. “ Captain! ” A boy shouted, “ Did ya hear that? ” Henry, one of my mates, came running up next to me. “ Hear what? ” I asked, over the blowing of the wind. “ I don ’ t really know, sir. Some kind of- �� From the distance, a deep rumble washed over us, piercing our ears. “ That? ” I asked Henry. “ Yeah, that. ” He said, less enthusiastic, “ Although that one was louder than before. ” “ Birds! The birds are back! ” Someone screamed, as the filthy birds came back. They were as ugly as before, with these terrible beaks and gray bodies without feathers. The worst part was their claws, which were huge and terrifying. The whole crew had grown to hate them over the trip, and their presence had become a sign of bad comings. “ Onwards! ” I shouted, “ Do not falter! We reach land first, then we can panic! ” It was good to have humour out here, it was the only thing we could carry with us always. But land was rapidly approaching, as the outline had already turned a physical mass. And the closer we got, the more land appeared. “ That ’ s not an island… ”", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0289", "text": "piece of chalk in his hands. Prophetic, epileptic text in impact font flashed from the site over a scrolling image of space, saying, `` THE TRUTH OF THE COSMOS! CTHULU IS FOR REAL!'' `` Well,'' I said, unzipping, `` it doesn't do it for everyone, but it does do it for me.'' A tab on the side, however, caught my eye. THE NECRONOMICON, it read, and a chill went down my spine that was quickly negated by turning down the conditioning and shifting my blanket over my back. I clicked to open it. It said that, apparently, the real text was too dangerous to put on the web, so it had some parts omitted. I downloaded the document, a file size of around 6.66 GB, which turned out to just be porn I was torrenting. I sheepishly stopped that and downloaded a file of a couple hundred megabytes. This is gon na be perfect, I thought, just gon na blow Mrs. Deepone fishy lips out the other side of her abnormally misshapen skull. I'm so glad I took the accessible Tomes Most Evile course that was taught concurrent with Home Ec. Free P A and chocolate chip cookies at the end, to boot. How wrong I was. How foolish I was. We made the cookies with wheat, they tasted like garbage. I was half sure that those cookies caused the deformation of Ms. Deepone. The other theory was that her mom fucked a fish. I copied and pasted the contents onto my essay under my topic sentence. Suddenly, the computer sparked! I fell off my chair with a dull thud. The computer hissed and buzzed with frenetic energy until the outburst had died down. I staggered back up to my chair with my blanket and wrapped it around my head. What I saw was unspeakable, to say the least, so I'll write about it instead. The words of my essay had gained a life of their own. Flowing, pulsating, maddening words forming a grotesque face, an abomination. It opened its mouth as if to speak, or perhaps, to swallow. Or maybe yawn. You can never tell with these unknowable abomanoids. `` I... AM...... S'GUALRATSHOO.'' it hissed. `` Bless you.'' `` THANKS. I'M S'", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0290", "text": "* Jenny looked down at the cable. With one last drag of the saw across the hardened wiring, it broke in half. `` Finally!'' Charlotte turned to Jenny and winked. `` Action time, rookie.'' -- - Nikki and a girl with gorgeous dark skin were already waiting by the glass case of the urn. From behind a corner, Jenny could see the guard's limp body and dark red blood pooling out from below. *Thou shalt not kill, * echoed the theology teacher's words in her head. Something told Jenny that these girls probably weren't religious. Nikki nodded to the body. `` We dealt with *this* chump. But the dog is still out there. We better hurry.'' From out of nowhere, more of the gang appeared and converged around the glass. `` Geez, is that all?'' asked one girl, blonde dread-locks spilling out from her rainbow beanie. `` Doesn't look all too worth it.'' Charlotte folded her arms. `` Trust me, girls. This one is worth it. *5 million credits* kinda worth it.'' Jenny gasped, and the blonde girl's eyes grew wide. `` 5 million!? For *that*?'' she said, waving her fingers towards it, careful not to set off the heat sensors. `` It's so *ugly*,'' `` Well, tell that to the collectors,'' Charlotte replied, gesturing to the dark-skinned from earlier. `` Jane, if you will,'' `` Certainly,'' the girl winked. With one graceful motion, she unhooked a small device vaguely similar to a breathalyser from her pocket and clicked it together with a device she had procured from the guard's pocket. She sauntered over to the case and the girls parted. Nikki pulled out an aerosol can and sprayed it around the casing as'Jane' slipped on gloves. With a sly smile, she pushed the machine against the glass and it let out a low buzz. The glass melted away, dripping like tiny hot raindrops. `` Be careful,'' Charlotte started, but there was no need. The girl had finished melting the glass and had gently lifted the urn from it's stand, replacing it with a small weight. A mechanical whirr started in the background, followed by a robotic bark. The lights flickered on, illuminating the dark room. `` That's our cue to leave,'' Charlotte grinned, turning on her heels and motioning for", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0291", "text": "My uncle, on my mom ’ s side, was a quiet, energetic man. I first met him when I was around the age of seventeen. He had a lab coat on, with the name Derek embroidered on it, and was very fidgety. Not able to stay still for long. Like he needed to do something, or be somewhere. However, he stopped when he noticed that I had a science article open on my lap. “ You enjoy science, Ben? ” He asked me. I responded, “ I love it. I plan on majoring in it. I haven ’ t picked a science yet, but I know I want to work in science. ” He smiled at me. “ Keep it up. I might have some work for you in the future. ” I chuckled, thinking he was joking. But his serious expression, said otherwise. It made me question what he meant by that. He left before I was able to ask about what he meant by that. I knew I needed to learn more about Derek. My entire family didn ’ t know much about him, which made me sad on their lack of interest in him. “ Maybe if he was more interested in us, we would be more interested in him. ” My mother would say. Although in my opinion, he was interested, just bad at showing it. I was able to find out, from my mom, that he and his wife have cancer. The only other piece of information that I could get was from my aunt on my mom ’ s side. She told me was that he is into a very cold science. “ What does that mean? ” I asked. “ That ’ s what he told me. I asked him why his house is always so cold and he said his science is very cold. ” This intrigued me, as well as left me on my own. I began to look into sciences that had to do with extremely low temperatures. I looked through many articles. From Low-Temperature Geochemistry to the low-temperature phenomena. After two years of looking, I found cryogenics, the production and behavior of materials at low temperatures. It made me think. Would he want to attempt to live longer by freezing himself and waiting for a cure for cancer? It made me question if he wanted to be immortal. Then, the phone rang. He had died in the hospital after passing out this morning. We attended the funeral and opened his will the day prior. We were", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0292", "text": "hair is styled, styled like you spent office time fixing it in the washroom, yes? And that smell, you wreak of bathtub cologne, and your Walmart brand shoes are shined for once; tell me, did you tip our poor shoe-shining Joe this morning, or did you stiff him, like you're about to stiff me out of 15 minutes so you can make it your date on time?'' `` I.. I was going to stay 15 minutes late at the end of the day s-sir. My girlfriend told me that she was having a rough day, sir.'' Phil's put his hands in his pockets and submissively stared at the ground. `` Yes. I'm sure you will stay late tonight... Phil, do you know why your lunch is between 12:00 and 12:30? It's because that is when I need you to take lunch. If I was to have an emergency at 11:50, and our client needed an answer to an important question that only you knew, how would we proceed?'' `` You could call my cell-phone, sir.'' `` Ah. Of course. So when we call and you say that you need to see the file to answer his question, and you're at the Cactus club, or whatever rube restaurant makes you feel like you're back on in small-town Virginia, you'll come right back I assume? So maybe you pay the waiter and get the food to go, but Friday's are busy, so you're out of there when? 12:03? Then nine minutes return, assuming the elevators aren't busy with the traffic of honest, hard-working employees on their real lunchbreak. Now our client has been waiting 30 minutes for his answer and you have missed your opportunity to pacify your girlfriends fragile sensibilities.'' `` I. Well, I just figured I made good progress this morning on the Wilson account I could maybe go do something for my g-'' `` **NO**, your progress is circumstantial and your excuses are ad hoc. The pestering little whims that circle through your head have made you their slave Phil. You are a slave to little buzzes of immediate gratification and helping yourself to company time. I see you taking extra coffee breaks and fooling around with Pam at reception when there is still work to be done.'' `` And this'consoling' you will be doing for your girlfriend, that fifteen minutes will help you", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0293", "text": "*Crack*. A large section of an old wall came crashing down. Dust and debris flew everywhere, a beam of water sprouted from somewhere, and yelling could be heard coming from upstairs. ‘ What the hell is going on down there? Phil? PHIL? Are you okay? ’ Phil shook his head, coughed a few times, patted his limbs, checking whether they were all there, and made his way towards the stairs. A loud ringing noise filled his ears. ‘ Yeah, yeah, I ’ m okay, fine, nothing to worry about. It ’ s just a piece of old— ‘ He fell silent, as he saw something amidst the mist of dust. A faint green light, blinking slowly, irregularly. Phil took out his flashlight from his utility belt and flipped the ‘ on ’ switch. No light. ‘ Goddamn batteries. Should have bought the top brand. Where are the spare— ‘ ‘ PHIL! Do I need to come down there? ’ interrupted the voice from upstairs. ‘ No no, it ’ s okay. It ’ s just, the flashlight. Its, uhm, batteries— ‘ Phil looked at the light again. It had started to blink more rapidly, and appeared to have moved a bit towards him. He felt the urge to meet it halfway, as if it was a love long lost, with who he finally reunited with. *Hug me, want me, kiss me, so close now, yes, almost, here, please, yes, YES, YEEESSS!!! * * * * * * Phil regained consciousness, and Matt was standing over him. His mouth moved, but Phil heard no words, just the ringing sound. It had not faded. Phil never noticed it before, but Matt only had one green eye. *Curious, looks good on him though. Mysterious. Goes great with his fingers. Always liked that tentacle look, bet his wife appreciates the possibilities too. * Slowly sound came back to Phil, and he could make out what Matt was saying. ‘ Nakz-hal retk-ii. Nakz-hal retk-ii! NAKZ!! NAKZ!!! ’ Matt ’ s eye had started to shine, like a blinking star. Bright green. First slowly, then rapidly. Phil looked down at his body, and wondered where his legs went.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 484, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0294", "text": "He scratched the back of his neck as he yelled to his wife, `` Honey! Where did I put my keys?'' He was always losing his damn keys, but they always seemed to be in the same place. Either in his coat pocket or on the table. One thing was for sure, his wife would always know exactly where they were. `` They're on the table in the foyer'' She yelled from the nursery. Of course, there they were. On his drive to work, he thought about the issues of the day and how they would affect his family. Ever since the breakthrough government system that was implemented ten years ago, things have never been better. Crime rates were down and as a result, the number of prisons that have closed is amazing. People are being treated for mental illnesses and not just thrown in an environment where they wo n't get help. The government has never been more productive. He rubbed the back of his neck as he felt the small bump. He knew it was a neural implant, ca n't remember what it does. Suddenly, he remembered the Royals were doing pretty well this year and it would be cool if they won the crown. They had done fairly well the previous year and have a pretty good chance. He arrived at work and went to his cubical. Although it was fairly early, his coworkers all arrived by 7:30. Just like every day. After he put his black leather briefcase down, he made his rounds to catch up with everyone. He noticed everyone else had bumps too; on the back of the neck, just above the spine. Why does everyone have these implants again? What are they for? Damn, the weather has been great this weekend. He returned to his desk and got to work. Something kept bothering him though. Everything he said, everyone agreed with. Whether it be political views, who should win the Super Bowl, or even favorite foods. Every time he would think about it he would suddenly get distracted. But still, life was good and the government is on his side. Just like everyone else. -- - First time post, feedback would be greatly appreciated.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 432, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0295", "text": "Time stands still, and he appears. Deaths robes licked the cold tile as he entered the room to claim his latest victim. Darkness flowed from them onto the floor like a mist, shrouding his movements as he shifted his frame towards the hospital bed. He allowed his eyes to rest for a moment on the young woman that lie there. Golden blonde hair, rose colored cheeks, icy blue eyes. How unfortunate she must feel at this moment, how awful to be her. Her husband collapsed on the white tile floor next to her, the pain of loss must have been terrible for him. Death had, of course seen this before, many times. But in cases like this, he could not help himself from feeling an amount of regret and empathy for the departings kin. The world was not fair, not right, but it was not for him to decide, he had a job to do. Death claims all, no matter the circumstances. His victim lie still, and death looked on. A stillborn baby, the very opposite of himself, yet still the very essence of himself. Here is what should have been life. What should have been happiness. But the world was not fair, not right, and he had a job to do, it was not for him to decide. He reached for the young soul and grasped it gently. He paused for a brief moment and felt the warmth from the soul on his bone like fingers. `` You are young and do not know sadness or joy, and so this may mean little to you but, I do not wish to claim you.'' The souls warmth remained. Death felt a small pulsation coming from it. It glowed a warm hue of the purest golden white, untainted by the years of hurt that life brings. He looked at the small body in which it came from, fragile and motionless. `` I will watch you closely, little soul. I expect great things in return for this,'' Deaths voice rumbled deeply as he reached out to the stillborn child's body a second time. `` not everyone gets a second chance at life, but everyone deserves a first chance.'' Death released the warm, vibrant soul back to where it came, and glided back to the door. `` Until we meet again, little one.'' he said. As he made his exit from the room, he could hear the child's first gasp of air, followed by a cry. The world may not be fair, not right,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0296", "text": "back! ” Someone screamed, as the filthy birds came back. They were as ugly as before, with these terrible beaks and gray bodies without feathers. The worst part was their claws, which were huge and terrifying. The whole crew had grown to hate them over the trip, and their presence had become a sign of bad comings. “ Onwards! ” I shouted, “ Do not falter! We reach land first, then we can panic! ” It was good to have humour out here, it was the only thing we could carry with us always. But land was rapidly approaching, as the outline had already turned a physical mass. And the closer we got, the more land appeared. “ That ’ s not an island… ” Henry whispered. “ No, ” I gulped, “ Not at all… ” We couldn ’ t be sure of that, but there was this feeling that just told us that. More birds were popping into the air, and the fog was starting to clear over. The ship grew ever closer to the landmass, till before we were prepared, we were there. We banked on the shore, everyone staring wide-eyed at what we had come across. It wasn ’ t quite the land that kept us all in amazement and wonder however. Not so far away, walked gigantic creatures which I ’ d never seen anything like. They were scaled, it appeared, and had these huge bony tails. “ What are those Captain? ” Henry asked me. I glanced at him, and then the crew on deck. Everyone was looking at me, waiting for my answer. “ I don ’ t know. ” I said, “ But I ’ m ready to find out. Set the ramps, we ’ re going down! ”", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 359, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0297", "text": "his close advisors, Lamons had brought 300. It would have been a bloodbath that ended everyone relevant to the Empire. And as the highest ranking heir. Sly would have taken the throne and converted power into a parliament, much like Lamons is. But with the Emperor dead, those men I spoke of earlier will run and know something is up. The assault on Lamons will occur and many men and women will die to your overzealousness.'' They looked shaken as I told them this, as I explained to them their folly. Then one of the oafs spoke. `` But if we kill them, we still good?'' `` Huh? You mean Wallace and Monroe and Stallone and the others that would have been there? They are spread in multiple locations, with many a guard. Arn was arrogant and thought he would not be attacked and brought among his weakest with him.'' `` But Lamons has 300 men you said.'' The oaf pointed a giant hole in my logic. He was right. If we attacked now, this could be salvaged. `` Alright, but we must move fast. Stallone will be here shortly to speak with his brother, and he will alert the rest once he sees the dead. Sly is staying in a tavern not far from here, while Lamons decoy ambassador is three floors below. We must move quickly.'' I began to look at the heroine who still was pointing her sword threateningly at me. She looked around and sighed before putting her sword down. `` Fine, but I will help. I wish to meet this future leader, and to see if he is true or if he is using you to further his goals.'' I chuckled as I went to gather my cloack I needed for this excursion. `` I have been doing this for longer than you have been alive. Waiting for this day to end it all at once. If I thought Sly could betray me, I would have let him die.'' I made sure it covered my face well enough and made my way to the door. `` Let us finish this.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 421, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0298", "text": "`` What does it say, Pia?'' Aksyl looked up at her, his bright eyes wide with wonder. When Pia was a young girl, her father had given her lessons in Enginetongue, but she wasn't a little girl anymore. She brushed her graying hair out of her crow-footed eyes and peered at the inscriptions on the panel in front of her. She moved out of the way of the light from their campfire, flickering behind her, to get a better look. `` It says...'' She sounded out the characters, her lips moving silently. `` It says, um,'Inlet twenty... twenty-one. Stand clear when in motion.''' Aksyl reached up to run his hand over the inscription on the Engine's gleaming, silvery panel. `` What does it mean?'' `` I'm not sure,'' she said, furrowing her brow. `` And what's this?'' Acksyl pointed to a small hole in the metal just below the inscription. It wasn't any sort of damage. It looked like some kind of socket, built into the panel. `` I don't know that either,'' she said, smiling down at him and ruffling his hair. `` And it's time to go to sleep, little prince. That's enough looking for one night.'' Aksyl immediately looked up at her with wounded eyes. `` But can't we climb up? I want to see inside!'' Pia shook her head firmly. `` No, Acksyl, it's too dangerous, especially at night.'' `` Pia!'' He pouted. `` We'll be careful. Don't you want to see, too?'' `` No, and that's the last word, boy.'' She pointed at his bedroll by the campfire. `` Sleep. Now.'' `` But --'' `` *Now*, Acksyl.'' He looked ready to protest more, but he huffed and went sulkily to his bedroll. He curled up inside. Pia went to a boulder by the fire, across from Acksyl, and sat. She watched him, watched his breathing. Her little prince. In moments, she could tell he was asleep. Pia looked up at the Engine that overshadowed them. She wouldn't be taking the boy inside, even when it was light out. But he was right. She did want to go", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}
+{"id": "narrative_test_pos_0299", "text": "dad to think he wasn ’ t ready to be a big boy so he shouted “ No way dad, I can handle anything! ” “ Okay then bud, sleep well. Remember it ’ s just like any other night. ” The dad said as he turned out the lights and shut the door behind him. Maybe another night for you Taylor, but I ’ ll be busy. I mean, how this kid can be scared of me when we ’ ve never met! I ’ ve tried to come out and say hi a few times before, but every time this kid hears the slightest noise I can sense he gets worried. So I stick down here and haven ’ t moved since. Not that I get much spare time to even come out, but one day would be nice. You see, where I ’ m from is a rough part of town. It ’ s not your ordinary town with the kids playing out front of their homes with white picket fences. As a matter of fact, no one in Taylor ’ s world knows my world even exists. Sure, everyone around seems to get along, but at night the real creeps come out. These guys like to cause problems and they can do that to each other. I wish they would keep it amongst the other monsters, but they don ’ t. It ’ s when they start seeking the small ones for an extra rush that boils my blood and I step in. You see these guys night after night go out seeking kids like Taylor. They don ’ t even call them kids; they call them “ dessert ” … real sickos.. Luckily, for the little ones they ’ ve each been assigned their own `` Boogeyman ” to make sure they stay safe and don ’ t get snatched up. So when I hear Taylor tell his dad that he is scared of *me*, it hurts. If only Taylor knew what fighting these bastards was like. You ’ ve got Aeran with his scaled skin and claws the length of a cable car. How about Zeila with spiked arms that burn like hell when they hit you, not to mention she ’ s twice my size. Don ’ t want to leave out Leera. Yeah he ’ s small, but lightening fast with a ferocious bite. It ’ s always the small ones that give you the most trouble. Yeah I get lots of bumps and bruises in this line of work. I ’ m fortunate enough I can heal fast. If I wasn ’ t", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "test"}