diff --git "a/data/corpora/narrative/train_pos.jsonl" "b/data/corpora/narrative/train_pos.jsonl"
new file mode 100644--- /dev/null
+++ "b/data/corpora/narrative/train_pos.jsonl"
@@ -0,0 +1,700 @@
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0000", "text": "`` I took his words so literally. Two days, he said. Two days! I was happy the doctor said she would die in two days, but there she was. A slab on the bed. Fat and bloody all over. I wiped her ass for years and the one break I get she did n't give me! That man said two days. He looked me, straight faced, and lied, sir! He lied to me! You're askin' me why... I am telling you,'' she sees Mr. J walk out the house looking concerned. She lowers her voice. `` Who's gon na take care of me? Who's gon na wipe my ass? Huh, cus' I know you are n't -- sir. I'm fifty-six years old; I have no husband. I want to feel loved. I loved her. She's my sister. I have to love her, but that was jus' too much. `` There -- there are limits. Who is going to love me? Huh? Huh! Huh...'' she retracts, `` Two days, after twelve years. I'm the devil for saying that I was happy for it to come, but it did n't. I would hope I would get used to it, sir. I would hope that -- uh, it would n't hurt. I would n't feel alone, but I did n't get used to it. On the third day, I ran to her room. I've never done that before, run to her room. But she said the same thing she says every morning, where -- wa'' she begins to breathe quickly. `` I ca n't --'' the officers approach her as if to catch her. `` Do n't touch me! Do n't touch me, yet. I -- I need to catch me breath.'' She breathes in deeply, and sits on the ground. She does n't move. `` I'm ready, put them on. Put the things on me. Her two days were up. I'm done, and if she was alive tomorrow... I'd do it again.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 432, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0001", "text": "The sky was cloudy. It was a good sky. This meant the drones wouldn't be out hunting his friends. Abdul mustered up the courage to ride farther out into the desert than usual. Even though the sky was cloudy, there was still the possibility of getting blown to bits by the ghosts in the sky. Through the biting winds and blinding clouds of sand he rode until he spotted something that caught his eye. Something shiny was stuck in the middle of the sand. For some reason, it shined even though the sun wasn't out. Almost as if it was calling to Abdul, beckoning him to it. He rode towards the object and got so close that the light almost scared his horse and he held tight on its mane else he'd fall off. `` Praise Allah,'' he said to himself. It was a lamp. Its bright light had gone away and he picked it up out of the clutches of the sand dunes. For some reason, there was a bit of dust on it. He rubbed it on his clothes to make it shine again. Suddenly, a giant plume of blue smoke rose from the tip of the lamp and swallowed Abdul. He panicked and began firing his rifle. His horse, scared from the smoke, threw him off and ran away deeper into the desert. He started screaming and cursing as he reloaded and fired his rifle some more into the blue smoke. Then a loud voice echoed in his skull and brought him to his knees. He covered his ears and stared in awe at the figure animating from the smoke. `` Heyyoooooooo!'' it screamed. `` Oh boy! 100 years will give you such a crick in the neck!'' the genie said twisting his head completely around his shoulders. Abdul screamed and scampered away backwards on his hands and feet. The genie turned towards him and vigorously shook his hand. `` Congratulations, buddy! You are our lucky contestant today in our popular new game show: Who Wants Three Wishes!'' The last words appeared in colorful letters in front of Abdul. His eyes were as wide as oasis pools. `` First things first, buddy, what's your name?'' A microphone appeared out of nowhere and the genie shoved it in front of his face. `` Uh, Abdul?'' he stuttered. `` Congratulations, Abe! You have just won Three Whole Wishes! Anything your heart desires can be yours with just a few spoken words,'' the genie said as he", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0002", "text": "# THIS STORY HAS A PART 2! [ HERE ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/555Writing/comments/5242x3/wp_a_childhood_classmate_of_yours_is_deaf_you/ ) `` I do n't have to be sneaky, she ca n't even hear me,'' I said as I walked up behind Amanda, a Deaf student who I love to bully. `` Are you sure she ca n't hear you? She does n't have any hearing aids or anything,'' my friend Rick said, I paused and replied saying `` Why would you need hearing aids if you ca n't hear anything? Just stop talking and let me do my thing Rick.'' I was getting annoyed at his stupidity, I wish he would just use that brain that all humans supposedly has. I was right behind her, then I jumped around her and scared her. After seeing an ASL interpreter in my Computer Science course in college, it reminded me of when I bullied poor Amanda back in middle school. I wish I could take it back, I regret doing those terrible things that I did to her. `` I wonder who the interpreter is interpreting for,'' I think to myself, I look around, and then I spot her sitting in the very back, IT'S AMANDA! Class is almost over and I wanted to try and tell her that I am sorry for what I did, not knowing ASL I decided that I would give her an apology note. I get Amanda's attention as we are leaving class and I give her the note and walk away, I wondered how she would react, and I waited for the next day. *** Thanks for reading! You can find more WP responses at r/555Writing!", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 349, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0003", "text": "? I tried to shrug it off. Dismiss it as some strange prank. But not five minutes passed before I called my dad back and arranged a meeting. Maybe it wasn't him that was dying. Maybe it was me. -- -- - `` Yes. You've been cursed. I thought you knew.'' I stared at him with my mouth agape. Like curses were an everyday thing. Buy two gallons of milk, get a curse free. Cursemiles. Double your curses back when you buy groceries. `` You can't give it away, son. Someone has to take it from you. Willingly. Knowingly.'' `` You... my dad cursed me?'' He never cared for me, but he never *tried* to hurt me ( he did anyway, but that's called `` neglect'' ). `` I wanted to spend time with you, son. I'm dying too.'' He took a sip of his drink like he didn't just announce that he was going to die. `` Some sort of cancer. It's everywhere, biding its time.'' His face, which had always had a youthful vigor to it, aged sixty years in three seconds. `` There's no real treatment; chemo's about as likely to kill me as the cancer is.'' Another swig, and the years slid off his face again. `` But I'm a fighter. I'll keep working'til I keel over.'' ``... You cursed me. You've killed your own son. You're taking me with you.'' My own drink sat on the table, getting warm. A fly buzzed in and wandered around the rim. `` Well, that wasn't the plan.'' He hung his head, and the years returned to his face. `` Truth is, I wan na keel over soon. I'm tired, son. So very tired. Your mom left the day after you did. I haven't heard from her since. One by one, my friends have left. Son, I've had enough. I was a shit father to you and I know I'm a shit father now. But if you'll give me today... just today... I'll take your curse and leave. Set things up. Rest easy knowing when my time will come. One last day with *someone*.'' I stood up, sending my chair skidding across the wooden of the patio. `` You're pathetic.'' I stomped off, heading in search of", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0004", "text": "It was a Monday morning when I woke up, groggy from a short sleep. The sky was still dark and all was quiet, so it came to my surprise that my dad was awake in a sort of silent trance, his eyes bloodshot and full of rage. `` I ca n't believe this,'' he said, `` this whole country has gone to shit!'' `` Morning, dad.'' I replied. The TV had its sound muted but what he was angry at was quite obvious. It was on the news channel and the headline *ZUAFFYUL X-2739 ELECTED AS PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES* I was wholly indifferent to politics, I had no opinion on the matter. `` Do you understand what this means, son?'' His voice sounded genuinely scared, which I felt was an overreaction. `` We've got to leave the country. This is the first step in a slippery slope. Eventually he's going to announce the genocide of humans to massive applause. And we voted for him! Ha!'' I decided not to argue as I needed to get ready for school. My phone beeps as I brush my teeth - text message from Zeolharxyon `` Z'' Y-6357. I picked up my phone and read it. `` Parents are crying. Never thought that this day would come. So happy right now, see you at school.'' Z was my best friend at school. The fact that today, for the first time ever, one of his kind was elected president made me extremely happy. I made sure to hide this happiness from my father the rest of the morning before heading to school.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 334, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0005", "text": "Caius paused, sighed, and placed his goblet on the stone slab between them. “ Another wine. I ’ m gon na need it. ” Favian obliged, taking care to remove the cork silently. “ So what happened to him? ” “ You remember the way Aurelius, in the river drills, would always insist on helping the last soldier up the bank before finishing it himself? He couldn ’ t let another man go down, just wasn ’ t in him. It kept him out of a centurion position, I know it. ” He took a sip. “ Also made him perfect for this mission. Just make sure Caius gets back alive, they said. Well, he was born for that kind of assignment. ” Another pause, as he set his goblet down and rubbed his brow. “ I don ’ t know why he couldn ’ t just look after his fucking self for once! ” Tears welled in Caius ’ eyes, but he banished them with a grit of teeth. Favian looked around the cave nervously, pricking his ears for footfalls. He studied Caius ’ dimly lit face, silently urging him to continue. “ You have to understand, we ’ d been paddling up that godforsaken river for months. The rains had come and gone, we ’ d gone through most of our original crew and two sets of conscripted natives, losing them all to sickness, or arrows, or any of those insane jungle beasts they grow down in the southlands; snakes, swarming fish, leopards. And those bloodthirsty chimps. Fuck, the sound of those things. “ But what befell Aurelius, 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. ‘", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0006", "text": "`` Breaking news! the dangerous offshoot of the IRA, known as the'Kings of Ulster' claimed 84 victims today in a brutal attack against a British police station. It is currently unknown if there are any survivors, but what is known is that several of the dead appear to be Ulster soldiers killed by their own leader, Nailuch uc.'' He turned off the television as the newsman began to drone on and on about the many he had killed. No one had yet put the pieces together that he was actually not a normal human. He was a powerful figure, practically a God, able to kill practically anyone, but he could not control himself. He had gone over the plans enough times to know that there were only 64 cops in that Northern Irish station, meaning that he had killed 20 of his best men. `` Oh well'' he said to himself as he approached the doorway, `` It does n't matter how many I killed, what matters is that no one sees the true point of today.'' he knocked on the door as he made sure the silencer was fastened firmly on his 1895 Nagant revolver, he'd need to be quiet. `` Hello Mr. Barmington!'' he said cheerily `` Who are you?'' the MP replied `` That's not important'' He raised his weapon and fired two shots into the MP's chest, the once into his head for good measure. `` If only you could have lived to see how important your death is for our people's freedom''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 311, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0007", "text": "`` Hello'' `` Hi'' ``...'' ``...'' `` Who is this?'' `` This is Mark.'' `` I do n't know a Mark. Do you have the wrong number?'' `` I... no.'' `` What do you want, Mark?'' `` I. Well. I do n't know.'' `` Okay. Well. How are you feeling?'' `` Not to good I guess.'' `` What's wrong?'' `` My mom just died and she's the one who pays for the house and I just called my ex and she said I'm a loser and she did n't feel bad for me or anything.'' `` Okay.'' `` And I ca n't pay for the place. I can sell some cards and stuff but I need... like... six hundred dollars.'' `` I'm sorry.'' `` That's it? You're sorry?'' `` I am.'' ``...'' `` I mean I understand.'' `` How?'' `` My own husband wants nothing to do with me.'' `` You did n't treat him right huh?'' `` I do n't know. He wo n't answer.'' `` Maybe he's just mad.'' `` Maybe. Or maybe he's gone for good.'' `` Do n't say that.'' `` We have n't spoken since the heart attack.'' `` I'm... sorry.'' `` Maybe I just need someone else. Like you do?'' ``... oh...'' `` 861 Maple Lane. `` `` I do n't know...'' `` Wear suspenders.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 307, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0008", "text": "I still remember how beautiful she looked on the day of our wedding. Her white dress with rhinestones shining in the morning sun as she walked. The contours of her body as an almost perfect hourglass filling out the dress almost as if it was a part of her skin. Her veil was lifted. Eyes the colour of chips of ice stared at me, piercing and taking control of my mind; stirring the exact same feelings as the day I first saw her. Her hair was a light brown with a natural wave that flowed to her breast so perfectly nobody would guess that it was natural. A smile appeared when she saw me that I shall remember for the rest of my time on this earth. For our honeymoon we travelled across Asia and visited several monasteries. My favourite was on top of a mountain that took the better part of 4 hours to climb. The building itself was red brick, surrounded with gold statues of different deities ranging from 8 feet all the way up to 20 feet tall. The building itself seemed to touch the clouds, as if connected to something that we could never understand. The monks that lived there often spoke of death, and how it is not wise to fear death; rather we should embrace it. I asked what happens when we die and I was given an incredibly simple answer; an answer that I fully understood, but could never fully comprehend. `` Do you remember what it was like before you were born?'' `` No.'' `` That's what it's like when you're dead.'' I always found comfort in that. Not a comfort as one would have when wanting reassurance that everything would be alight, but a comfort that in the end, the only thing that matters is what you have done with your time on this earth. My wife never understood that. She was always overly terrified of death, in the same manner that a young child reacts when a bee flies near them. When cancer took her from me last week all I can remember was how scared she had been. She begged me never to leave her side and was constantly searching for alternative medications aside from the chemo. She was scared for the last few months of her life, and it took its toll on her. Some days I think being scared of dying was what really killed her, not the cancer.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 466, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0009", "text": "them,'' I lied through my teeth. `` You're lying.'' `` Yes.'' `` Why are you lying to me?'' `` I don't want to talk about it.'' `` But you're going to.'' `` How would you know?'' I began looking over the last few paragraphs for mistakes. `` You know exactly why.'' I stopped running over the article and turned my attention to the woman beside me, she didn't seem troubled, she didn't seem like she was confused, it didn't seem to faze her that I was in on her little secret. Of course, it wouldn't, she knew, `` You can see the future.'' `` You confront me about this in a week if I don't bring this up now.'' I close the laptop, the story can wait, `` So you know what can happen in any situation.'' `` I know what happens when I take the path that I want to, and what happens if I just let everything run itself.'' `` So you can change things.'' `` Yes.'' `` And you choose to report all these stories, rather than trying to save everyone.'' `` It's not my job to play God.'' `` It's your job to be human!'' `` I'm a journalist before I'm a hero. I haven't been able to do this forever, and I don't want to test how often I'm right when I try to change things.'' `` Fuck you.'' I spat, shoving my laptop into my bag and standing. She moved to stop me, and I push her down, `` Consider this my two weeks notice.'' `` Jeff...'' she trailed off. `` Wait, that's why you hired the new guy last week, you knew this would happen.'' She nodded. I stormed out. ** ______________________________________________________________** *I need to talk to you, coffee shop in twenty. * The text was from a number I didn't have saved in my phone anymore, but I knew it by heart from having to dial it in a panic. It was the reason that I was known as one of the best cameramen in the business. There hadn't been a lack of job offers from news stations, but I was out of the news business now. Documentaries, working with a group of old friends from film school while I tried to find funding for one about people with supernatural abilities. She walked into the coffee shop two minutes late, wearing a yellow sundress and", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 490, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0010", "text": "for that is where you stand, and you are me. You had a hand in my choices, you said yourself!'' I fired. `` Flawed logic. I am you, but a replica serving a greater power. You are a stray soul with no home.'' It answered. `` Time is short, and waits for no one. Are you satisfied?'' I sighed. There was no way out of this, and I was probably reaching the end of its patience. I stole one more glance above, and faced him. `` Alright.'' I began. `` What did you need to know?'' `` Good.'' It smiled. `` What would you have done if allowed to live longer, but were not aware of your imminent death?'' It asked. `` Honestly? I would have fulfilled the rest of my goals. I wanted an easy job that paid really well. I wanted a beautiful wife and a brilliant child.'' I answered, leveling my eyes with his. `` I see. You wanted to gain personal belongings.'' It replied. `` No, well... I never had much to give!'' My gaze once more shot downward. `` I was raised in one of the poorest parts of my country! I would have suffered if I gave what I had; it was hard enough just to protect it! Who deserved what little I had more than myself? I worked so hard for so little compared to most!'' `` So you did not see anyone more deserving then yourself?'' It asked. I shot a glare at him, but understood my folly, and my glare faded as my eyes drifted across the scene below. “ I see. ” It began again. “ We are nearly done. I have one last question. Would you have done anything differently? ” The question caught me off guard. I exhaled sharply. I considered it. But then I understood. What a pointless question, I thought. Even if I had known about this, would it have mattered? I began to see. “ Did I have that chance? ” I fired again. “ You were there, you were guiding me. You led me day by day, sin by sin. ” I approached it, coming within inches of its face. “ What is the meaning of this? Of all of it! ” I spat. “ Was I just your plaything all along? How could I have known? ” “ You had influence. ” It replied in unwavering solitude. “ You were always there", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0011", "text": "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 blink quickly, then clenched them shut. Before tearing up, he flicked his half smoked cigarette into the city below, and rubbed his bloodshot eyes harshly. `` Fucking Venice.'' he said before walking to the bed. Opening the cardboard box, he upturned it, and dumped its contents on the bed. It was a collection of notebooks, and file folders. There was little rhyme or reason in their organization, but James had spent the better part of a decade studying them. Rather, James had memorized their contents. The notebooks told the story of James' little girl - taken out of his front yard eight years ago. This story began on a tricycle in the suburbs of Denver, made its way to El Paso, hopped south to Rio. The body was found in Budapest, but the story circled the globe after that discovery. James picked up the pistol which sat on bed. He read the inscription and began to cry silently. His great shoulder heaved as he wept. But, he was practiced, and refused to make a sound. He had hurt so many innocent people. He had long ago justified his constant mistakes. If it took five innocent people to find a guilty one, so be it. James had made peace with the stains on his soul. Indeed, his method had paid off. He was in Venice. James reached down, and with the barrel of his pistol, he opened the manila folder. In the folder was a newspaper article which was marked up in red ink scribblings. One figure's head was circled with enough force so as to tear the paper. `` Marco Palmisanini,'' he said. `` I've looking forward to this for years.'' He nodded, regaining", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0012", "text": "`` We've got ta leave him, Mike!'' I kept shaking Johnny's lifeless body, muttering the whole time under my breath. `` Come on, Johnny. Come on, wake up, buddy. It's not that bad, Johnny, come on, Johnny...'' His limbs twisted and contorted like a rag doll's. Burn marks made his face nearly unrecognizable. The desperation in Tyler's voice pierced through the dull drone of the alarm. `` Mike, we got ta move! Cops'll be here any second!'' I stood up to see him scrambling through the blown out hole in the vault door. I followed close behind, blind grief morphing to hot, white rage. `` What the fuck happened, Tyler?'' I screamed at his back, standing by the entrance while he shoved as many bills as he could into his duffel bag. `` I don't know,'' he responded in a flat, emotionless tone. `` Something went wrong with the charges.'' `` Something went wrong with the charges?'' I shot back. `` You just blew Johnny the fuck up and something went wrong with the charges? He's fuckin' dead, man. He's goddamn dead and you -- you killed him, goddammit!'' I grabbed his shoulder in exasperation, spinning him around to face me. I didn't know if I was going to punch him or break down crying. But I stopped dead when I saw his face. Tyler looked scared. Frightened like a small child, standing there with a bag full of money, suddenly in far too deep. We both were. He stood silent for a moment, even as bells continued to sound around us. `` I'm sorry, Mike,'' he finally said, his words heavy with guilt. `` But I can't fix it. Grab his bag, fill it up, and let's go. We can still make the window. We don't have to go down, too.'' I didn't respond. I wouldn't have known what to say. I went back to Johnny's corpse and grabbed the duffel bag still slung around his shoulder as fast as I could. My mind was blank as I filled it with cash. We had to get out. We could mourn later. *** We both sat on the cold, concrete floor of Tyler's apartment, wordlessly counting out stack after stack of hundreds. It had been a good haul", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0013", "text": ", and it came low and lateral. Although I had the advantage of length, he was able to strike faster and change direction more quickly. Still, his form left much to be desired. He swung his sword in a high arc, forgetting the while his shield existed. I sidestepped his blow and launched one of my own; seconds later his shield was clattering on the ground. Clenching his wounded hand into a fist, he tried to strike with his sword again. I caught the blow low on my sword and threw my weight behind it. Unbalanced, Phillip was unable to rise in time to block my next blow. His sword flew uselessly out of his hands. As he stared at his empty hands, I brought the blunt end of my sword to his chin and bloodied his face as he fell to the ground. I pressed the tip of my sword to his neck and prepared to rid myself of his weak-faithed presence. `` What is the meaning of this?'' The crowd turned to see an older man dressed in simple black robes approaching. Beside him stood several other similarly clad men wielding quarterstaffs. Aged lines of a long and brutal life of service ran across their faces. `` No concern of yours, monk.'' My short retort did little to deter him. `` You will find yourself amiss, m'lord, should you kill him. Every sword will soon be required.'' `` A faithless sword is no sword,'' I replied angrily. I had little enough patience for these warrior monks as it was, less so when they interrupt so. `` There is no time for this. A muslim army fast approaches. They will be upon us within the hour. Kill him, and you weaken our cause that much more.'' I took one look at Phillip, another at the monk, and stepped off him. Whatever else the man may be, there was a fight coming. My liege lord may have died, but I can at least fulfill his dying wish: free the Holy Land. Christendom can ride to its own defense. I do this for my liege. One last request. One last cause. *For Frederick*", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 440, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0014", "text": "The young woman stood by the wall smoking a cigarette. `` Hey sweetie, how about you help with a light?'' asked the young man, walking over to her. `` Fuck off.'' Came a stern reply wrapped in a Irish accent. `` Come on Darlin', It's just a cigarette. It ai n't anything more.'' The man tried to reason with the stern woman, as he held his cigarette out. `` Fine, but then you leave.'' she said, lighting his cigarette. `` Ca n't. This is the only cigarette area around the bank, and you're here you know.'' Said the man with a wink, acting all suave. `` Suave. You win that from a cereal box?'' The woman shutting the man down. `` Geez, hard to get huh? What's with the coat?'' The man inquired, puzzled. `` I have a assault rifle in my pocket.'' The woman replied sternly. `` Sure, SWAT teams have this place locked down like a safe.'' The man replied, brushing it off as a joke The woman looked at her feet, soon touching her ear and nodding. `` Are you on the phone? Busy?'' asked the man concerned. With a sharp right hook, the woman punched the man to the floor. As he looked up, he noticed the woman was carrying a assault rifle... wearing a mask... and full assault armour. `` Shit, not the clowns...'' the man moaned, as he was soon cable tied, as the woman ran inside, a matching clover on her mask and gun. ( Hope you get my reference! )", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 332, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0015", "text": "`` Click Me'' submitted just now by ClickMe to /r/pics It's the only thing on the page. For days, everything has been silent. The world has been void of news, dope memes, and cute animals. You've been alone, sitting in your chair and staring at the screen clicking `` Refresh'' in the hopes that even a subreddit like /r/Terriblefacebookmemes would post something. Alas, only you have logged on and only you have posted anything... But now, there was a post on /r/all! It was terrifying. What if it was some sort of joke? A weird beta error of some sort? You decided it did n't matter- you had to click it. There was no other way. You clicked the link. It took you to Imgur, where a single picture resided on the page in front of you. It was a screenshotted satellite map of your neighborhood, and your home was circled. The other houses were each crossed out with a thick black `` X'' and only yours remained clear. Your palms were sweating, and you gulped as icy fear gripped your spine. Your shaky fingers typed `` What is this? Who are you, OP?'' into the comments. A moment passed. OP replied: `` A list... And, I'm a friend.'' `` A friend? Of who?'' You typed. `` And what exactly is this a list of.'' Another moment. `` Think of it as a list of potential candidates. None of the other redditors have proved worthy... and you, I'm afraid, are the last one. Now, I suggest you put some pants on, because I am going to be paying you a visit very soon.'' You replied a number of times, but to no avail. It seemed OP, whoever they were, was going to be coming by. You locked all your doors and windows, and crawled to sit by the front door with a knife from the kitchen in your hand. Hours passed, and the silence was driving you insane. You started to drift. There was a soft scuffle on the porch, and then a hard knock on the door. You looked out the peep-hole. It was Gabe Newell, holding a copy of Half-Life 3. You sighed, smiled, dropped the knife, and opened the door. It was just a dream, after all.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 488, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0016", "text": "P o w e r. A word so promising, so omnipotent that striving for it became the main goal for many, thousands of years ago. People who wanted to obtain it and were able to have been dominating earth, while those whithout power had to obey and knuckle under, thus creating a gap between the strong and the weak. That gap was closed when genetic engineering went to far. Everyone has sleeping abilities, hidden deep within their DNA, waiting to be unlocked. Things that go beyond human capabilities were suddenly in our everyday lifes - people running around at speeds that would make every marathon runner hide in shame, strength that could snap necks with two fingers, invisibility, flying, you name it. I just wanted to see. Understand. *Feel. * Physical prowess and power over others, those were the things these so called `` superpowers'' gave people. No matter what the release of the genetic boundaries brought to light, I didn't want it. I had always been a very smart person, no doubts with an IQ reaching over 150. Since I was a teenager, I have been able to imagine things so vivid and lifelike, hear songs in my mind as clear as if I had headphones on and grasp concepts of great complexity so easily that reality became somewhat boring. Knowing things is one thing... seeing and feeling them another. Of course I was tempted. Even Steven Hawking admitted in a press conference that the possibility of restoring his body made him consider going through the process, even though in the end he decided against it. `` I have been a man of mind instead of body for so long, it wouldn't make a difference now.'' He had been my idol for a long time - he had come as close to leaving his body behind for his great mind to work free as any human could have. However, there were still limits. I couldn't leave my shell and be a ghost to witness what no human could - or should. My mind wanted something that was beyond *homo sapien sapien*. **Transcendence. ** So I lived my life without those powers. Dedicating myself to researching whatever interested me, I gathered knowledge about everything I could. Space, Time, Biology, relativity and whatnot, even though it eventually grew stale. My friends, my family helped me forget the void inside. But as they passed while I aged, I realized that nothing would ever sate my desire to become", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0017", "text": "my own name. so I settle for Frank. last name? uhhh anything goes... hmmm... uhhh.... Baker. Frank Baker's the name, or what I will be for now, as I write to check in, and hurry along my room. Laying in bed, resting from the nightmare of a day I have had, I try to think for clues, I thought'the knife back at the scene would surely tip me off','why can't I remember my partner in this incident, who was he?','why was I there?','what was my motive?' I thought to myself long and hard, and after weighing my thoughts I convinced myself to go back and examine the scene of the crime, inconspicuously of course. I rent a new change of clothes and luckily I have been endowed by my unknown parents with genes of bearded men, so hiding myself won't be a problem so much as to shaving the beard off. finally at a glance in the mirror I see myself quite well endowed with facial features as well, but sadly I thought of this face also as the face of a killer as I hung my head in dismay. With my makeshift coat and new garments I shift along returning to the scene of the crime, to find it riddled with sirens, and people of authority. as I try to walk along observing slowly, I overheard'must have been a hard life''I mean how can a man murder someone who can't even remember himself, a man with amnesia''And a young man himself!'. I was suddenly taken aback, all I could think was to despair in the form of regret, knowing my victim's innocence, and how could I have, with my hands, killed such a man. I felt guilty, I was trying to think of alibis, I started to panic once more, and I felt that everyone was there to gang up against me, I felt small in the world at that moment, all I could think of was run. but that might put me into more attention than I am currently needing. what do I do.... what do I do... suddenly I felt a tap on my shoulder. I wasn't able to see who it was, then I felt a tugging on my hand as I was dragged to a secluded place, by this unknown captor. ( continue ) edit: something something", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 481, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0018", "text": "`` Your wife will rot! Your kids will grow old and die alone and forgotten just like your father did! You you you you you, every one of you you you, will die! But I will continue.'' `` Don't believe me? There's a screwdriver in your wall, stab it through my thigh eye thigh, and we'll see. Cut my throat! Maybe I know the secret to eternal life! Your father never ever never got me to tell! You won't drag it out of me either!'' A calm rage filled the man with brown eyes, as his hand settled on the rust flecked hammer. Rage and another feeling. Pain. The restrained man stared in horror as the heart attack rippled through the son of HIS chosen psychopath. `` No no no no no! Don't you fucking die on me!'' The chair rocked as the horror and the need moved through his body. The chair back began to splinter as the figure's actual strength made its presence known. `` Fuck.'' He sighed as he wiggled free of the rust and mold encrusted ropes. Eternity is so boring. What do you do when you've done everything there is to do because you can't die? Laughter, happiness, sorrow, grief, anger, rage, all are fleeting. Even surprise is hard to come by when nothing is beyond the realm of possibility. He spoke, `` Ah, but pain.'' He looked down at the man in the blue corduroy pants, Tim, maybe? `` Pain has depth.'' He reached beyond the man and picked up a screwdriver. The weak overhead lighting glinted off the dull, browned edge. Head lolling back, eyes closed in ecstasy, he drove the driver slowly into his thigh scraping against the bone. `` Yes!'' He hissed. He looked back down at the man. `` Tom'' he said, `` you and I never got to play pray play.'' He turned toward the stairs, screwdriver sliding out of the hole in his leg and clattering to the floor. `` Your father was so bad to me and it felt soooo goooood. But now I need to find another psychopath to hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt me until I die Die DIE! `` He stepped onto the first stair, `` and, when I come back, he can kill me again!'' The voice echoed once more as the door to the basement slammed shut", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0019", "text": "little restraint for me to consider her ladylike anymore ) was looking around at my private collection, mouth agape. I coughed, once, causing her to jump and turn around. `` Okay,'' I said, `` Let's take this one question at a time. I can tell you won't leave until you are satisfied.'' She moved closer to me with slow and soft steps, then whispered, `` Are you really immortal?'' The question was bound to come up. `` Yes,'' I said, `` but only by accident. Satan barred me from Hell, and I've done too much wrong and made too many infernal pacts to go to Heaven. Purgatory would be an option, had God not shut the place down when the church started selling indulgences to line their own pockets. So, with no afterlife to go to, I can't pass on.'' The entire story was actually rather embarrassing. Most inexperienced, arrogant, or overambitious Traders try to bargain for eternal life at some point. Fools, the lot of them. I won't say what happens to them, but it is too unpleasant for words. The price on that is far too high. Smart Traders instead bargain for years, living on bought time and using it to accrue more bargaining chips to exchange for more time on this Earth. Some of them go mad, scraping just for a couple of weeks, afraid of the death they have avoided for so long. Me, I managed to become immortal by getting locked out of every afterlife possible. In doing so, I severely restricted my trading prospects, so I'm pretty ineffectual these days. That's why I view that as a mistake. Currently, I'd been around for roughly 150 years. The girl had returned to awestruck silence once more, thankfully for me. She couldn't have been much over 20, and was rather pretty. She had no soul anymore, which marked her as a Trader. The fact that she knew of me just sealed the deal. Whether it was fame or infamy, I couldn't tell, but I was well known. Somewhere, in the back of my head, a devious idea sprung up. `` What is your name?'' I asked. The question was, would she take the bait. `` You know full well my true name is too valuable, but they call me The Mermaid.'' she answered. It had been worth", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0020", "text": "Dammit, I have work tomorrow,'' I muttered to myself as I glanced at the time. It was 1:00 now, and I didn't want to keep our guest waiting. I walked into my room and to my surprise, the Grim Reaper had sprawled his whole card collection across my desk. He smiled back at me. `` WHAT ARE YOU DOING???'' I yelled at him. `` That is MY desk that you are messing up. I want you to pack up your bags and GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!!!'' The Grim Reaper was shocked. `` But I didn't even get to show you my foil --'' `` I HATE MAGIC!!! I HATE TRADING CARD GAMES!'' I pulled my hair in frustration. `` If you couldn't tell by my room, I have invested ALL of my money into Warhammer 40K.'' I waved my hands in the air, gesturing towards my shelf. `` Plus, it is now 1:00 in the morning, and I have WORK tomorrow. I don't have time to delve into your hobby, because I already HAVE ONE!'' The Grim Reaper sat in silence, then shoveled all his cards into the duffle bag. He sadly got up, put the hood over his skull, and picked up his sickle. As Julia walked in, she looked surprised as the Grim Reaper walked out. `` Sorry for keeping you up so late. I'll bring my 40K stuff this weekend.'' The Grim Reaper extended his hand, opening up a dark portal. `` Mark, Julia, it was a pleasure meeting you.'' Waving a sad goodbye, he stepped into it and disappeared with a flash. `` Mark, what was that about?'' Julia asked. `` He said he was coming back. Are we going to die this weekend?'' I paused, and thought for a moment. `` If he was bringing his 40K stuff, I probably should re-read the rule book. But anyway, goodnight, babe. You should get some sleep too.'' I kissed Julia and shut the door. Shutting off my computer, I turned off the lights and crawled into bed. Had I escaped death, or found a new friend? Regardless, I just hoped that the Grim Reaper would field a painted army, unlike my co-worker who I had played last weekend.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 475, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0021", "text": "`` We now go live to Maria Antonia in Times Square for a breaking update on the epidemic. Maria?'' The camera shows Maria standing in the middle of New York. There are no cars, just hundred of people standing in place. The lights of the big billboards and TV screen continue flashing, but the rest of the plaza is utterly dead and still. Not a single one of them moves despite the gusting wind that tosses Maria's hair wildly about. The scene is vaguely remniscent of [ a flash mob frozen in place ] ( https: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=_XPFd5A54J8 ). `` Thank you, Tom. It has been a truly exciting day here: specialists from the CDC have finally discovered the cure for the effects of Freeze Tag.'' The camera pans over to the side, where a platoon of soldiers hustles through the crowds in camo fatigues. A commanding officer clutching a bullhorn shouts: `` *You put your right foot in. *'' There is a rustle of fabric and the click of boots against pavement as each of them swings their leg immediately and taps the ground. `` *You take your right foot out, *'' the officer shouts, and they all pulls their right legs back and stand up straight. `` *You put your right foot in. *'' Maria waits with baited breath, constantly checking to make sure that the camera is still rolling. The soldiers again move together, dipping their foot to the ground. The eyes of the frozen crowd dart back and forth, watching the dance with desperate hope. `` *And you shake it all about, *'' the officer commands. Each solder sticks his leg into the air and waves it 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0022", "text": ". I didn't mean for you to get angry.'' `` Answer the question!'' I shouted, my fists starting to clench. `` No,'' she said, sternly. `` I didn't mess with your watch. It's accurate.'' `` Then who the fuck are you... `` She smiled. `` Someone who cares about you. Who's always been there for you.'' There was something about her voice, her tone, that made me believe her. My skepticism melted away. She continued. `` Every time you were hurt, I watched. And I cried.'' A single tear rolled down her cheek. `` Are you, like, my guardian angel, or something?'' She chuckled. `` Or something.'' I shook my head. `` It isn't fair, you know. I've had a good life. You can't just judge me by my worst moments. You can't --'' She interrupted me. `` I understand. I understand you've had a great life. I'm happy for you. But I'm sad I have to be here tonight.'' I didn't say anything for some time. We shared a silent moment between us, allowing the background noise of the bar to take over. Something had *happened* inside of me. For some inexplicable reason, I believed everything this girl had told me. And the strangest thing was that I felt at peace. `` So I'm going to die tonight,'' I finally said. `` Brain aneurysm.'' I moved my hands up to my temples. I felt a warmth that I hadn't felt before. `` Is it going to hurt?'' I asked. She shook her head. `` Not as long as I'm here,'' she said. `` Why the whole trick with the watch?'' I asked. I couldn't help but think that it was all just a setup to get me to talk to her. `` Us angels like to have a little fun every now and then. Although, like I said, the watch was accurate. I *have* been there for you in your worst moments.'' I glanced around the bar, back at my friend, who had already passed out and was drooling on the floor. `` He's going to miss me,'' I said. `` He was there for me, especially when I tried to kill myself.'' I turned back to the girl. `` Do I have time to say goodbye, before the aneurysm", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 492, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0023", "text": "My 11 year old son is really into writing. He whipped this up ( I have not read it yet ) I walked out of my containment pod in the morning, and the fluorescent lights blinded me for a few seconds. A few scientists rushed down when they heard the seal in my pod release. Mist flowed from the pod and drifted into the lab. Different scientists monitored and checked the artificial organisms in my body with an X-ray. I hated having to sit in that pod for at least two hours per day, constantly being pestered and monitored before I could even leave the depths of the lab. It was uncomfortable and hot in the X-ray pod. After being released from the pod I walked upstairs in my jumpsuit, itchy and annoyed. It was too tight in my suit, but I knew better than to complain. Before leaving, I snatched a cellphone from my pod that I hid there. I stole the cellphone two weeks ago from father, but he had so many it was barely noticeable. I had been chatting with people online for days now, and they were quite nice. I wish to meet real humans other than the scientists and servants in the manor. I made sure to use the cellphone discreetly when my father wasn ’ t forcing me to sit in diagnostic chambers to make sure I ’ m perfectly healthy, or making me learn how to lie to reporters and manage a company. I understood it was dangerous to steal things from father, and that he was only doing this for my benefit, and that this was for my own good. Right? Right. I thought so. I continued through the maze of corridors to find that my father was having a heated debate with someone on the phone. I waited patiently, like I was supposed to, and then we begun our classes. I sat impatiently, having occasional spasms. Not because I was unhealthy, the exact opposite. It was because I didn ’ t want to be here. I had no choice in the matter, I was aware of this. So I sat dutifully and waited. After ranting for what seemed to be hours, but was only thirty minutes, I was excused to go to my next class. Just before I got up, I asked, “ Father, may I leave the manor? ” My words were like glass that were just dropped and silence overwhelmed the room. He looked furious, veins bulging from his neck. “ No, ” he said in a calm voice,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0024", "text": "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 of me, where do I start?'' `` That's why I was there to meet you. I am the god of spacetime, and you are my new apprentice, the one-day god of robotics.'' Gods? This wasn't real, right? I suddenly pieced things together. `` A man dies of thirst and might be granted dominion over water. I am murdered by a robot and so I will be god of robotics, whatever that means. Is this all based on irony?'' He stroked his chin and said, `` The god of strife was a notable peacekeeper whose pacifism started a war. Irony is practically how things work, it seems.'' He laughed, this time it felt like he enjoyed it. I couldn't help but join in. I wiped a tear from my eye, `` So how did you become god of spacetime? Accidentally blew up a universe while you were still in it?'' `` Pretty much.'' `` Oh.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 345, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0025", "text": "from the shower head like water from a tap, thick and hot and dark. When it hit the floor, it burst forth, bubbling in every direction, and then racing away from Katie, towards the far end of the shower, where a mess of rancid, hot, purple foam circled the drain. Katie screamed, and tore away the shower curtain, sending the small hangers scattering along the floor tiles. She fled the shower, terror gripping her heart. She threw open the door and careened into the hallway, blundering right into Aubrey's laughing arms. The two women crashed to the floor, Katie screaming, and Aubrey holding her, howling like a hysterical madwoman. `` Katie, KATIE, it's alright.'' `` Stop laughing, there's-'' The words refused to come out of Katie's throat. She choked on a bloody sob, and burst into tears. `` Katie, it was a joke!'' Aubrey cried between laughs. `` A prank! I was trying to scare you.'' Katie stopped mid sob, and her face went from one of terror, to rage, to confusion, to embarrassment in a matter of seconds. Only now she realized that she was still naked, and moved to cover herself. Aubrey was still chuckling. `` God, I should have gotten that on video. So funny. No, maybe it's better not. This way I'll always have it up here, in my little memory! Oh! Come on, Katie honey. Let's get you to cool off. Let me get you a towel.'' Aubrey stepped into the bathroom and fetched the towel. She wrapped it around Katie's shoulders. Katie clutched it to her like it was the last towel in the world. Aubrey sat cross legged facing Katie, wearing a devilish grin. Katie took a deep breath, then another one. She counted to ten in her head. More deep breathing. She focused on the wind, which seemed as if it was trying to tear the building down. After several minutes, she regained some semblance of composure. `` Why?'' ``... did it do it?'' Aubrey was loving the tension. `` No, actually. Not why, how?'' Aubrey leaned back andran her hands through her hair. `` Easy to make fake blood. My brothers and I learned way back when. We would make home movies in our backyard. You need some red food", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0026", "text": "`` 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 aghast. `` You can not be true. There is no need for this, we mean you now harm.'' `` Out there,'' I replied, pointing my sword into the distance, `` is a Muslim army waiting to descend upon us. Including the men we lost last night, our army has less than five-thousand good men, only eight hundred mounted. They don't know that. If they did, we'd be dead men. If you take another thousand, they'll notice. And you condemn us to death. So, draw your sword if you mean to forsake your oath. Let us see if God's plan involves the death of this army.'' Phillip looked around uncomfortably, but drew his own blade. Opting for a shield, once he donned his battle armor he became much less rattled. `` I do not want to kill you, but I will do what I must Alonzo.'' Holding my sword level, I waited for his strike. A feint, and it came low and lateral. Although I had the advantage of length, he was able to strike faster and change direction more quickly. Still, his form left much to be desired. He swung his sword in a high arc, forgetting the while his shield existed. I sidestepped his blow and launched one of my own; seconds later his shield was clattering on the ground. Clenching his wounded hand into a fist, he tried to strike with his sword again. I caught the blow low on my sword and threw my weight behind it. Unbalanced, Phillip was unable to rise in time to block my next blow. His sword flew uselessly out of his hands. As he stared at his empty hands, I brought the blunt", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0027", "text": "/Silverspy01 intending to beat him with his bare hands. But yet again he was repelled. Reknor wasn't stupid. He knew that some other entity was a part of this, one who seemed to be more powerful then Reknor. He doubted his Nors would be much good either. But they could still hide and plan. It was always good to have a secret weapon. Givign one last snarl, he turned and fled the village. /u/Silverspy01 seemed to be protected, but no protection was invincible. All he would have to do was find its weakness. -- - /u/NeonShockz watched Reknor run away. `` Should we go after him?'' he asked, his hands still crackling with electricity. /u/Silverspy01 got up and dusted himself off. `` No,'' he replied. `` You saw how easily he attacked us. The protection only works inside the village, and I would hate for him to kill me. As much as I hate it, our best bet is to stay here for now. I would like to thank you two for trying to help me.'' At this he nodded towards /u/NeonShockz and /u/JulienBrightside. `` And of course /u/StormsAndWolves must have known about the protection in place and decided not to waste bullets.'' Now, I wonder how /u/Braz-dur came back... I was sure he was dead. But I suppose it wouldn't be the strangest thing that's happened in the last few days.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 329, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0028", "text": "eyes narrowed in acknowledgement, possibly jealously. Is it possible to be jealous of yourself? Without saying another word, he stepped off the train, pulled out the Timeagotchi, and disappeared in a flash of blue wireframe. So that ’ s how it went for the next few dates with Olivia. I was surprisingly cooperative with myself, for the most part. I took it pretty hard on the carnival date, but I had been in kind of a strange mood that night anyway. Olivia and I continued to grow closer and closer as we spent time together. So that brings me to tonight, March 10, 2016. The original “ Flower Incident. ” My head was spinning with the plans I'd made as I watched myself approach, holding a modest bouquet of flowers as I nervously approached Olivia ’ s apartment for the first time. I stepped out from behind a hedge in front of the building, right in the path of my past self. He froze, the flowers quivering in his hand. “ Yeah, it ’ s you from the future. The new Star Trek sucks, and pull your stocks out of Google. ” I said, looking seriously into my eyes. Past me ’ s eyes widened and he gave a tense nod. I moved to stand side by side with myself, putting my arm around my shoulders. “ Look, you and Olivia are a great match, I said, ” as I pulled out my phone in front of us and swiped through several pictures of Olivia and I. I ended of the one of Olivia and I on the beach, our first successful date. I put the phone away and plucked several flowers out of the bouquet. “ But, I said, she ’ s deathly allergic to tulips. One whiff of these bad boys and she ’ s gone. ” I stepped back in front of myself, looked into my eyes and said “ Just be confident, bud. You ’ ve already succeeded. Kind of. It ’ s complicated. Just get up there, knock on her door, be yourself and have a great time. ” I thumped myself on the back, and he stumbled forward towards the apartment door. When I ’ m already nervous, I have an amazing ability to just accept whatever ’ s in front of me. Past me turned to look back at me, eyebrows high on his forehead, hand on the door handle. I grinned and gave him a double thumbs up. He shook his head, unsure", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0029", "text": "The light just broke through the clouds as she sat down on the bench, her hands folded in her lap, legs crossed at the ankle. It smelled like morning. `` Well, the kids have been doing well,'' she said. He took the spot next to her. `` I'm glad. What have they been up to these days?'' `` Reid just told us that the coach is putting him in first string in an upcoming game. He's so proud, been training extra and he tells me he still manages to make his 9am class. That still has yet to be verified. But Rose assures me that she'll keep an eye on him.'' `` Who's this new girl in his life, huh?'' He waggled his eyebrows. `` She's really been my favorite of his girlfriends so far, I have to say. And it's not just because she also feels like she could be one of my girlfriends, you know, getting dinner or going to the theater. Though we do happen to love the same musicals. To Reid's dismay, of course. But you know him, he'll come around. And Rose is just so lovely, as I mentioned.'' She sighed. `` She sure does sound as sweet as her name.'' `` Then, well, Mags is doing okay. You know Maggie, never one to smile at you unless you are worthy of it. She's enrolled in a hybrid science-art class at school, which she seems the most excited about. Had me sign a permission slip because they'll be working with electronics, using different types of equipment, I'm not sure what. Seems like a pretty advanced class for 10th grade, there was never anything like that when Reid was in high school. But I'm glad Mags has an outlet for her creativity.'' `` I'd love to see something she makes.'' He smiled. `` And how are you doing?'' `` I guess it's not as simple for me, just working most of the time, not really able to get out my creative side like I used to. Remember when we spent those two weeks of summer in that little villa, and I made the most beautiful books of pressed leaves and flowers?'' `` I remember, the smell of nature wafted around the house for days after.'' `` I'm sure I still have it somewhere, if I manage to look for it. But mostly I'm at work, Carl's got me doing a lot. I may be", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0030", "text": "The paperwork required shouldn't have fit in a briefcase. Marie's feet clacked on the harsh lino floors, the fluoro lighting harshly illuminating her face. `` Permission slip for wearing a purple dress, sheer cut.'' Marie fished in her briefcase for the forms to let her get through the doors, her appearance forms. One for the bun her hair was currently in. One for the dark brown her hair was dyed, with a sub-form for the specific product she used. It just went on and on. The man behind the desk stamped each form as slowly as possible, watching her with one eye, the screen with another. He clearly wasn't working; the screen was showing Facebook, the computer struggling to load the page on it's late-1990's hardware. He wasn't even trying to hide it. After an eternity Marie's appearance forms were passed, and the form for her to be able to talk to Reynolds, as the man was called. He looked vaguely disappointed to have to accept her as she moved up to the second floor. The next floor was for everything Marie wanted to take with her. Everything in her apartment was itemized, from the broken copy of Halo 2 to her Employee of The Month: April 2006 coffee cup, all carefully written out on the correct forms that had been stamped and re-stamped until they looked like a four-year old had tried to create art with them. The enormous stack of paperwork landed on the table of the woman sitting behind the desk. Marie couldn't believe how long it had taken for her to get through the line. It had stretched around the entire city that had been built just for the office in fact, and she didn't dare leave the line even for a moment. Lucky she didn't need food. The woman pursed her lips, her grey hair bobbing as she reviewed Marie's forms. As the days passed and they moved from the living room, to the kitchen, to the bathroom, Marie gradually started smiling, and the woman started frowning. `` Fine, Marie Levesque! Take your damned forms!'' Marie smiled. `` Nice trap Nancy, but you need to re-write that one out as Marie Levesque-Hammond, or you know I won't pass the final floor.'' Nancy looked as if she'd like to turn Marie into dust, but instead muttered under her breath and re-filled out the form to allow", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 493, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0031", "text": "up an arrow pointing to his own name written in his own blood on the crime-scene, this time it really would be fool-proof. Except it wasn't. Random person, random method of killing, carefully placed clues, and the forensics experts and detectives solve yet another amazing crime and help everyone in the process. That fourth time he'd seriously thought about eating a bullet. Instead he reminded himself that genius required persistence. Plus if this fifth time didn't work he had decided that to relieve his frustration he'd just kill the forensics team and the detectives on the case... slowly... over an open fire. The moment of truth would hopefully come soon. The news was getting to the hook piece they'd teased through several previous breaks `` wealthy socialite found''. He almost squealed with the anticipation of what they would say. Surely there wouldn't be any ambiguity this time that it was his work. Not only that but he'd left clues about all four previous murders too. The newscaster came on air, Marcus held his breath as the newscaster reported... `` Wealthy socialite John Caster, heir to the Caster & Caster estate was found today after being held hostage in his basement for the past year...'' Marcus couldn't hear the rest of the story through his own cursing `` NO! NO! NO! NO!'' ``... his captor, who had been impersonating him, was found dead in his pool from an apparent drug overdose...'' He started throwing things around the room, overturning tables, looking for something satisfyingly heavy to throw through the TV. `` NO!'' `` NO!'' `` NO!'' `` NO!'' He shouted as the newscaster continued. ``... News has learned that clues were found at the scene that tie the impostor to a prominant local plastic surgeon who is now in custody. The surgeon had provided plastic surgery for four other impostors across the country. All four are now also in custody.'' `` Wow! That is some news Wayn...'' The co-anchor started to say before the small microwave crashed through the screen. All that was heard after was the sizzle and pop of broken circuitry. He stomped around and looked for something else to throw, thinking maybe the best thing was to throw himself right out his own living room window and ten stories down to the street below. The longer it took to find something satisfying to throw the better that idea", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0032", "text": "They camped out along a little creek and after Alrick stamped the fire out they embraced by the sound of it and held each other all the night and said what they felt and the night passed much faster than any before it. She looked at him in the new daylight as he lashed the bedroll onto his pack small and bent in the dirt and she thought of things unsaid that she had held back and would forever. “ Where are you going to in the north? ” “ More war, I think. ” “ Why? ” “ I met a boy at the feast, a ward of Lord Atley, he will be a King one day I think, of his birth lands or elsewhere. ” “ Elsewhere? ” “ Yes, he ’ s hardly grown, but you can see it entire in him. He is one of those rare ones so marked. ” “ So you ’ ll leave all of us behind to follow some boy just to see if you ’ re right. ” “ I must start if I want to find out; come along with me a little ways down the road before we part. ” “ Fine. ” The road continued through the woods and they walked with no great hurry. Soon they reached the end of the forest and the road came out and went onwards into the north marches and the hill lands beyond. This seemed to be a place natural to say farewell and they turned to one another and she looked into his brown eyes and felt her own water. Suddenly he looked past her. “ What ’ s that? ” She turned and Alrick went by her towards a glint of some object behind a dead trunk. He reached behind it and drew into view another pack, full laden, and lashed to the side of it her sword. She smiled. “ I think I ’ m right because I have seen another with that same inner ability, and many followed her because they saw it shine as natural as the sun. He will need us both to survive the wars upcountry. Come, we are two days from his camp and you are much anticipated there. ” She shouldered her new pack and they continued on wordlessly across a great plain and by day ’ s end had climbed atop the first hill of many to come and looked out as night fell onto a land unknown to them both and she felt somewhere deep that she could from that vista see the bounds of the remainder of her days.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 489, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0033", "text": "cover. `` Mr. President, the gloves.'' I looked around the desk and saw a pair of white cotton gloves. Of course. I donned the gloves and started to turn pages. The first few were written in small, flowing script. Tucked in between pages were what looked like printed transcriptions of the text. That was some foresight too. I wondered how many presidents had to sit at the desk deciphering 18th century handwriting before someone finally typed it up. After checking a few sheets, it seemed like those pages were preambles and guidelines for the few people who would ever write in the book. I made a mental note to return to those later - my curiosity had to be sated. I kept turning pages one by one until I finally saw a large headline with a neat block of text on the center of the page. Beneath that, another helpful typed version. GEORGE WASHINGTON 1789-1797 > To hold the office of the President of these United Colonies is to be the leader of a truly free people. It should never be lost upon the bearer of this office that he too was one of the people he sought to lead. To this end he must be morally good, he must be able to condescend well to his people, he must be firm in his convictions, and he must always search for the course of action that will provide for the betterment of our Union. Long may we stand, and long may we be United. I sat there, staring at that passage. I couldn't believe I was reading George Washington's own handwriting. After a second I realized something felt off. I re-read the passage. ``'Condescend well?'' I was perplexed that our nation's first and finest leader would say something like that. `` Ah, During George Washington's time, it meant something different. More along the lines of being able to speak well from a place of authority. It's a common stumbling point for most of the previous presidents, Sir.'' I nodded, thankful I hadn't missed a course on Washington's Life and Times, or something like that. And the way Robins said it, it certainly seemed more in line with what the first leader of the Free World would have said to future president. Satisfied, I continued to read. JOHN ADAMS 1797-1801 > You have assumed a most powerful seat in this nation. Expect that with the power of", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0034", "text": "James stood on the edge of the sidewalk, looking first to his left and then right. No cars were visible in either direction. He leaned in and strained his hearing for the sounds of any distant engines but only heard the pleasant chirping of small song birds perched on the sloped powerlines overhead. Reassured, James placed his left foot in front and began out on to the empty road. Then he cursed himself. “ Right first, always start right ” Still, he reasoned, it was too late to turn back. Besides, he checked again in either direction and still no cars to be seen. Right, Left, Right, Left, James was almost across the street when he felt a cool sensation crawl up his leg. The puddle he had stepped in was iridescent with the oil accumulated from the road, this was all he had time to notice before his leg plummeted in up to the knee. The puddle, it would seem, was in fact a sinkhole and James, preoccupied with the risk of being hit by a car, had completely failed to notice it. The last sound James heard as his head approached the paved ground was the distance groan of a sputtering engine, growing quickly louder. After a time, James began to waken. Slowly opening his eyes, he first noticed a pale round object floating in his vision. The object began to resolve itself into a face. The face seemed to be unconnected to the normally requisite body, and yet James ~~~~found it absolutely lovely in spite of this corporeal defect. “ It ’ s finally happened ” James said. “ My bad luck has finally gone and got me killed. Least I ended up in heaven, figure there 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0035", "text": "for the council meeting already.'' `` I must find them. It's been taken. The second book has been taken.'' `` Taken? You don't mean stolen, my boy?'' `` Yes. Stolen.'' `` That's impossible, they've all been at the meeting. No one is home. Save me and Greig. And he's most assuredly been with the horses.'' `` I know it wasn't you or Greig.'' Raenin grabbed the woman's slightly thick forearm pulling her back through the hall outside and around to the far left end of the castle. The entered the archive through a small door in the center of the wall. It opened easily, broken. Ms. Forsythe looked at Raenin worriedly and followed. The open door allowed the light to wander in revealing the dust hovering over each antique, each book and each shelf. The shelf they sought sat in the far back right corner of the room, it was labeled `` Reference- Jihah's First and Second'', one book sat on the shelf, bound in emerald leather, there was no engraving. `` Oh no.'' Ms. Forsythe pursed her lips, `` No no no. Raenin how did this happen? Who was this?'' `` I don't know.'' Raenin replied, `` I truly do not know. All I heard was a sigh, a laugh and then I saw it, the shelf.'' When Raenin was given The Sight it wasn't in full. He had not been born with magic and to be gifted it was very different. His half-powers only allowed for minimal visions. `` Raenin,'' Ms. Forsythe had already developed a solution, `` Go to Greig. Prep your horse and run. Find them. Find the council. They are at the desert center. You have three days.'' Without pause the boy did as told. Ms. Forsythe stayed behind to barricade the door. Greig was a quiet boy. He stood no taller than five foot and no one seemed to know how he controlled so many large beasts with so little muscle. Still, he was the best barn hand the castle had had, he required no room, no food and no clothing to be made, just the barn. The pale gaunt fellow prepared the dopple gray gelding for departure and Raenin left without a word. He had gathered bread and water from the kitchen. Enough for two days.... The round room at the", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0036", "text": "`` God damn it.... This is the worst.'' Dracula stood there in front of the automatic paper towel dispenser with a hint of hopelessness in his eyes. He turned back to look at the hallway behind him, lined with bathroom stalls. Only one was closed. Great. He looked back at the dispenser with a lips-curled-in-grim smile on his face. His hands were still dripping with water. He knew he had to wait. `` Of course there'd be no hand dryer. But???'' He scoffed. `` There's always a damn hand dryer. What is happening to the world?!'' The sound of a flushing toilet interrupted his complaints. His head jolted up in relief. He looked back down to see a small puddle in front of his feet. He felt a little frantic as he tried kicking the water toward the wall. Finally the door swung open as a young man exited. Dracula stopped kicking immediately and awaited eagerly for help. He looked back as the man walked toward him and flashed a friendly smile. The man nodded to him and then proceeded to the door. Dracula's eyes widened, fearing what he thought was happening was actually happening. `` UH HEY!'' Dracula blurted out right as the man approached the door. The man stopped and looked at him. `` Aren't you going to wash your hands..?'' Dracula stuttered. The man's eyebrows lowered as he glared at Dracula. `` How about you mind your own business buddy. I don't judge you for creepily standing in front of the towel dispenser.'' And then he reached for the door. `` But dude!'' He blurted again. `` You totally just took a dump in there. Don't you think about all the poop particles that are probably all over your hands??'' The man rolled his eyes. `` Whatever dude.'' He reached for the door again. `` OKAY WAIT'' Dracula couldn't hide the desperation in his voice. `` I actually need your help.'' The man's eyes were judgy as he scanned Dracula up and down, and then back down to the water on the floor. And then Dracula's hands. It all made sense now. `` Let me guess.'' The man began. `` You're a vampire. And you can't dry your hands because the sensors don't read your hands.'' Dracula shrugged and let out a nervous laugh. `` Well then", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0037", "text": "looked down at his chest and saw the huge mass around his body creating a mound in the hospital sheets. He remembered his Halloween costume, a fat suit. It made him look 200 pounds heavier, and the fat jokes he came up with the night before were endless. `` Hell, I'm even still in my costume! Is this some kind of joke? Do you really think you can trick me like that?!'' He shouted at the doctor. A nurse appeared behind him and spoke to Tom in a soft voice. `` Sir, it isn't Halloween anymore. We already took you out of your costume last night. Don't you remember your kids coming to trick or treat at your bedside?'' `` What? No, this is my costume, here let me show you-'' Tom reached down to pull his hospital gown off, but the nurse caught his arm before he could. `` You can't do things like that, Tom. We wouldn't want you to hurt yourself, would we?'' Said the nurse. Tom looked down at his arm and notice the IV attached to it. `` B-but... It's just a costume! Really it's nothing this serious-'' `` I'm afraid you're critically obese, sir.'' The doctor interrupted. `` It really is serious. If we don't do something soon you'll seriously damage your heart. We need you to calm down; don't strain yourself like this.'' Tom fell silent. He rested his head back into the pillow and thought about the night before. He had never thought of what it was really like to be obese, only how it seemed. He tried to take a deep breathe, but the mass pressing on his ribcage held his lungs down. His joints aches and he felt exhausted just from breathing. `` I'll go get you some breakfast, sit tight honey.'' Whispered the nurse. Tom didn't want to eat. He was disgusted. Thanks for reading, Reddit! I'm an amateur, so please let the constructive criticism flow. This is my first post to r/WritingPrompts, and I hope you enjoyed it! - u/ty_phoenix", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 434, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0038", "text": "The gas encroached over the top of the trench. William McKenzie's eyes saw the green smoke almost immediately and the words escaped his mouth, `` Gas! Gas! Gas!'' The soldiers in the trenches, most of whom were taking a break from the battle and smoking on cigarettes, sprung into action. They grabbed their weapons and then hurried themselves against the dirt wall in the trench, hoping their Mage would make it in time. `` Everyone, inhale!'' A male voice shouted as he hopped into the middle of the trench. His long, ornate cloak spoke that he was a Magus of the Fifth Order, under directive from the King himself to guard and defend his territory and people. He spun his hands together and William watched in awe as a yellow aura filled in the middle of his palms. A collective inhale from his Platoon happened and the Mage yelled something incomprehensible to himself and the other soldiers. The yellow aura erupted out of his hands as he threw them over his head. It pushed against the green smoke and slowly, but very surely, pushed the smoke back over the top of the trench. It took some time and the Mage kept his eyes shut the entire time. William was the first to step up, counting the forty-odd soldiers in his Platoon -- three of whom from another Platoon that he picked up on their first retreat -- and made sure everyone was accounted for. When he reached the number three, he heard the sound of a grenade hitting the mud at the bottom of the trench. `` Ambush!'' Someone shouted and jumped on top of the grenade before William could react. It shot upwards into his stomach, tearing the soldier apart and killing him instantly. `` Protect the Magus,'' William shouted as the gunfire erupted. Two soldiers, Privates as William noted, lunged forward and grabbed the Mages' arm. They pulled him down in the middle of his incantation and broke his concentration. His eyes broke open. `` What is happening?'' `` Ambush. I need to get you to safety,'' William said as he fired off his rifle over the trench. There was no telling how many Germans were launching an attack and William's primary objective was to keep the Magus safe. Territory control was minor compared to holding the most powerful beings in the world. And his secondary objective, he noted in his head, *eliminating* the enemy Magus. `` The incantation is not done. The gas", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0039", "text": "The young man looked around, as he sat in his small airship. He finally saved up enough to get one. Although, it was really more of a hot air balloon with a couple of steam powered fans and a rudder to help steer. No longer would he have to rent one from that dirty scoundrel Lazirith. He would finally be able to harvest clouds for only himself, and wouldn't have to share half of his earnings with Lazirith. Today he would make a name for himself as the best cloud harvester ever, and maybe if he did a good job for the Wizard, he might teach him some tricks to use in a pinch. Besides pirates, you had to worry about dragons, birds larger than some airships, and the Hawkari, a humanoid winged creature with black skin, sharp talons, a beak and nasty magic. They stuck to the Nimbostratus clouds for the dark storm magic. So avoiding them wasn't normally an issue. In the two years he had been collecting clouds Jaxson had never seen a Hawkari. He made a last check that he had his cloud trappers, harpoon gun, pack and enough fuel to last him and he launched. Jaxson got up to the Stratocumulus cloud level. From here Jaxson could see the entire world. Everything looked fake from this perspective. The trees and village he could make out looked like children's toys. The tilled fields like small checker boards of green and brown. The Strato clouds were good for quick money as most mages, witches, and wizards used the elements from the clouds in a majority of their spells. Jaxson prepared his first cloud trapper as he was about to enter the cloud. He grabbed the bronze latch at the top of the glass container and twisted it a quarter turn, until it popped open, with the release of pressure. He didn't know how the Magesmiths make these but he had managed to buy five of them over the past two years. Not an easy thing when they cost half a gold each, but now he was able to collect a lot of clouds in one run. He positioned the bottle in the holder on the side of his basket. As soon as it was placed in the basket, once invisible runes on the side of the glass began to glow turquoise. To Jaxson they were scribbles, but he new that once in the basket,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0040", "text": "powers intertwining and wrapped both friend and foe in aura's of death and protection. The yellow and red mixed together, binding destructive and restorative power together in something that William had never seen before. The ensuing blast from the two powers combining knocked him to his feet. He felt that it must have been hours before he came to -- in truth it was only a few minutes -- and he carefully lifted his head upwards from the mud and dirt. In front of him, the armored transport was turned over and four or five Germans laid dead next to it. In front of that, William counted at least a dozen British soldiers overturned, mangled, or completely decimated. He could hear voices, noises that approached him, yet the enemy Magus was nowhere to be seen. Then he turned his body onto his side and felt the sharpness of a tree stump in his left abdomen. He looked down at the wound, saw the blood on his shirt, and cursed himself. His eyes refocused to the battlefield and in front of him, he saw the enemy Magus grabbing the vials from the King's Magus. The German wore dark cloaks and dumped the vials into a bag on his shoulder, before looking at William. He said something and then stepped atop the Magus' corpse and walked over to William. He spoke in some language, spun his fingers in his hand and brought forth an aura that glowed red. William looked upwards at him and grabbed his abdomen. He only spoke a few soft words, `` Long live the King.'' _______ */r/BlankPagesEmptyMugs for more! I kind of rushed that end because of school/work, but I hope you enjoyed! *", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 343, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0041", "text": "The Door of Dimensions loomed before the nervous party. Its intricate orange patterns swirled back and forth, not tethered to normal space, normal reality. Soon, the party would enter the ancient gateway, into an unknown world. The Door had been discovered eons ago. For as long as anyone could remember, the bravest of adventurers had led expeditions through it. Every time a group entered the Door, they found themselves in a new, unexplored world. When you entered the door, you either came back rich and glorious, or you didn't come back. Their party, the Crimson Banners, was one of the few adventuring companies to have not yet led an expedition through the ancient portal. They had done everything there was to do in their homeland of Esper. Led by the mighty human Paladin, Garon Godstrong, the Crimson Banners had slain dragons, conquered ancient dungeons, and performed great feats for many years. However, the task that lay before them was a new one. It had been an arduous and taxing journey to reach the Door of Dimensions. The week long trek up the steep mountain pass was said to weed out those not worthy of launching an expedition into another world. The Crimson Banners, however, had not become known as the champions of death by sheer luck. For the experienced crew, the journey proved easy. When at last the band of allies reached the peak, their aging elven Wizard, Mastrae, immediately began to perform the ancient rite required to open the glowing doors. As he chanted in a long forgotten language, the weight of what was awaited them settled upon the party. A nervous quip was heard from the timid gnome Rogue, Dumpkins, just before the great stone slabs slid open, revealing the swirling chaos behind. A brief word of encouragement from Garon, and the party stepped forward. Immediately, they were surrounded by an indescribable chaos. Up was down, left was right. Colors and smells and sounds mixed in a confused vortex. After what seemed like an eternity, the terrified party felt their feet hit solid ground. Decades of training led them to immediately snap to their senses, analyzing their surroundings. However, doing so only left them more confused. They were standing on a hard grey stone with lines painted on it. There was grass surrounding them, but it was the deadened brown of winter plants, despite the moderate temperature. In the distance there were towers made", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0042", "text": "`` Ryle! Ryle! Did you hear the latest? ``, a very hip and excited girl shouted, pushing herself between the rest of the passers-by until she was a few feet from me. `` Look!'' she said, pushing a wooden table to my face. `` Alright, alright... what have we got here...'' I started to read the *newswood*, but I knew Annie wouldn't even let me get started before I could make the title; `` A new shake! An *Earthshake* they call it! When the forest ends and the large plains start! It says so here!'' I turned around and gesticulated'sorry' to the individuals around us. `` Look Annie, I know you are excited but we're on the middle of the street. Why don't we go to that place where they serve those weird leaf beverages you like so much? -Leafs...... except for a vegetable or two, plants where fodder for Saurosfolk- There we can *discuss* this.'' I suggested and she agreed. Of course she wouldn't shut up on the way to *Leafhouse* as it was called, but by then my mind was elsewhere. I don't even remember when we got to the *saurotransport* and got there. A new shake? That was very weird, I don't remember the shakes being so close to each other. At most, people only remembered one shake in their lifetime, but now ten only in the last month. The newswood explained that most brilliant minds of our era tried to figure that out, some suggested we could dig until we find the source of the shake, some others suggested that a giant saurus was trapped underneath the earth and now it was waking up. I was not convinced. Any theories sounded too absurd to me, living in this era of great technological advances: towns were bigger and modern; all Saurofolk serving us as transport, garbage disposal, messenger services and other menial tasks; the wheel helped transport more and more persons from Southland to the Northland, passing through the Great Desert, Greenfast and all the Forests in between, using the new roads built from stone and hardened-mud. `` So, are you going with me?'' she finally blurted, waking me up from my thoughts. `` Go? Where?'' `` To the border, between the Blue Forest and the Greenfast plains, where the shakes", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0043", "text": "# # # # # # [ ] ( # dropcap ) `` Aha! How are you, *mon ami*?'' She hugs me, and I feel a small spark cross from her hand to my shoulder. Then she steps back, dragging the wheels of her carry-on across the brick floor. `` I'm doing fine, Béatrice. I'm glad I'm finally getting to meet you.'' `` You know, you are so much taller than I imagined.'' `` Really? I sent you my picture, didn't I?'' `` Oh yes, I have seen it. You are much nicer looking in real life.'' `` Aw, you're making me blush.'' She sweeps her hair back behind her ear and smiles. I wonder if she has the same crush on me as I do on her. It's too bad we aren't meeting under better circumstances. `` Where are we to go from here? This airport is very confusing.'' `` Oh! Uh, right this way. Do you have any bags to pick up first?'' `` It is just the one. I did not have time to pack much.'' `` Right, of course. We can pick up some things from the store if you want.'' `` Ah! You are too kind, Francis. What I want first is to sleep.'' We walk around the corner and through sliding doors, then make our way upstairs. Béatrice looks around, confused. `` We are going to your car, yes?'' `` Uh, no. We're taking the subway.'' `` Subway? Is that not an American restaurant?'' I'm not sure how to respond to this. `` That's not... I mean, it is, but, um...'' `` Haha! I am joking with you, Francis. I know my English well enough.'' We walked into an elevator. `` There are trains, yes? The *métro*.'' `` Hah, you got me.'' `` I must laugh about these things. It has been a long day for me.'' `` Oh yeah. I can understand that.'' `` My brother committed suicide at the train station in Lyon.'' I stopped laughing. Béatrice continued to look up at the ceiling as the elevator wound upwards. She was still smiling, but her eyes were small and sad and tearing up. `` It was a long day for him too, when they passed the law. He had no one to help him.'' `` So you've told me", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0044", "text": "aked towards me. `` Seems our playdate will have to wait. You won't go anywhere, will you?'' He mocked and patted me on the cheek. He turned around, walked up the stairs, and shut off the light. I was alone in the darkness. The only sound I could hear was my muffled sobs. There was nothing for me now, only despair as I waited for him to return. I tried to escape. I jerked my body in any direction that I could but it was no use. I let out a stifled cry of defeat. Then I felt my hand move. There it was! A glimmer of hope in that dark basement! Through some miracle, a knot was loose and I was able to free my hands and escape the chair. I fumbled around in the darkness for sometime before finding a lightswitch. When my eyes adjusted to the brightness, the first thing I saw was a macabar display of photos on the wall, each featuring a previous victim of this psycho. I took a deep breath and calmed myself before rushing up the stairs. I looked around the corners and peeked through cracks in the door to insure it was safe. I stole whatever clothes I could find and moved towards the front door. I had to get to the police. I had to get this man arrested. My hand was on the knob when I turned around. Behind me was the door to the basement I would have died in. It seemed like something was compelling me to stay. Instead of fear, I was now feeling anger. I took my hand off the door and waited. It was a hour or so later that the man returned. As he rounded the corner, I swung a heavy frying pan into his face. As he fell to the floor, reeling in pain, I smothered him with a rag soaked in chloroform. He was securly tied to the chair when he came to. I was examining the very things he planned to use on me. I turned to him. `` I hope you don't mind, but I burrowed a suit. It fits me rather well, no?'' I picked up a hot iron and walked towards him. `` Now then... How shall we begin?''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 459, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0045", "text": "between life and death. William grasped tight at the knife hand, his foe hammered away with his free hand snarling and cursing as he looked to free his weapon. William bucked up on his knees, shifting he weight toward his left and pushing back desperately with his arms. The would be assassin went tumbling off of him, it was Williams turn to press the attack. He sprang to his feet, and leveled a kick at his opponent that crashed into his nose just as he began to rise. For some reason escape did not occur to him, the dazed opponent thudded to the floor, and before he could get upright again William dove on him. Another struggle ensued, but William had the better of it from the start. His assailant was dazed from the kick and his resistance was uncoordinated, faltering. Elbow, fist and forearm smashed downward, each blow sapping his foe more. The knife had been dropped at some point and William had lost the pistol when he had been tackled but he spotted it laying just within arms reach. He darted for it, fending off blows with his free hand. Fingers clasped the grip, he wheeled the gun overhead and slammed the handle down onto his foe. The struggle stopped, dead or unconscious it didn't matter so long as the man laying before him wasn't trying to drive a knife into his heart. Shaky legs hauled him upright and half dazed William surveyed the scene. Pure chaos, bright red flames crept forth from the back of the restaurant. The detritus of the blast was scattered in every direction and rolling black smoke flowed like water out the shattered windows at the front. Everyone that could walk on their own power had made their way out. It occurred to him that he should do the same. Ears still ringing from the explosion he shambled out the door. The world outside rushed to meet him all at once, sirens wailing in the distance, the acrid smell of the smoke behind him and a murmuring crowd of onlookers. “ Jesus ” he whispered, taking stock of himself. Arm oozing from the knife wound, clothing blackened and torn, aching in a dozen places. Another epiphany struck, this would be a good place not to be. So he ran. Legs pumping like pistons until it felt like battery acid surged through his veins. The pistol still hanging loosely in his hand", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0046", "text": "*Knock Knock*. The Man in the Yellow hat nervously rose from his chair. It was late, who could that be? `` Who's there?'' He said, as he cautiously paced his way to the door. `` It's George.'' The Man in the Yellow Hat stopped in his tracks. He did n't know anyone named George. Except for a monkey he had cared for a while back. But monkeys do n't talk. The Man wondered if someone was playing a joke on him. `` It's OK. Please let me talk to you.'' Without realizing it, the Man had arrived at the door. He slowly gripped the handle and let the door crack open. Looking down, he saw his familiar friend. He nearly fell over, but caught himself on the door, which swung open. `` George? How is this possible?'' `` Something has happened to me and my friends. I do n't remember much, but we awoke in a lab.'' Mesmerized by his friend's words, the Man finally regained his composure. `` I'm sorry for my reaction, but you have to admit this is weird. Please come in George and have a seat.'' The Man led George to the couch. `` Is there anything I can get you? A banana perhaps?'' `` No thanks, `` said George, climbing onto the couch. `` I think we should talk.'' `` Yes, I supposed we should talk.'' The Man sat down in his chair across from George. `` You said you do n't remember much. You seem to remember me and your time here?'' `` I do n't remember much about what happened to me. I remember everything before that though. From before, when I could n't put my thoughts together like I can now. I had to see you. I want to let you know how much our time meant to me. The Man in the Yellow hat took off his hat and let out a gracious smile. `` I had a habit of getting into trouble and you were always there to save me. That time I swallowed the puzzle piece. *I still ca n't believe I did that*. That time with the kite when...'' George trailed off, almost lost in thought. He curiously looked at the Man. `` Say, do you still have that helicopter?''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 471, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0047", "text": "It *sucks. * I'm terrified to touch people. Before you ask, no I do not have some kind of mental illness, nor do I have OCD. It's just that I can see more than people think. How it works is that I touch the person in question and I can see their emotional background. I can see what their brain protects itself from. Their dog dying made a huge impact on them. *Whoop. * I see that kind of thing all the time waiting for my subway train. Sure, some of them are pretty run-of-the-mill things like a pet passing away, a loved one dying, or even the occasional shady dealings with the local loan shark. After a while, it gets easier. Kind of like a filter; the redundant stuff just blurs together. Then she came. She was a new client who came into my office the other day requesting some kind of graphics project that `` absolutely had to be done yesterday'' and that `` money was no object, just get it done.'' After yelling at my poor secretary Charlene who, bless her heart, put up with her while I got her file all ready for our meeting. `` Mr. Peterson will see you now. Please follow me.'' Charlene said curtly. It was painfully obvious that she was fed up with her, from the sound of her voice. `` God, finally. I've been waiting *all day* for this.'' After Charlene opened the door to show her in, I took a quick look at her file that her employer sent me a few hours beforehand and shifted my gaze upwards to meet hers. I would be lying if I didn't say that I was shocked. She was *beautiful. * Absolutely gorgeous. She was around five feet, six inches. A full five inches shorter than me. She wore a grey cardigan that sufficiently showed her full breast and a nice pair of matching slacks that seemed to follow a smooth, full curve starting from her waist down to the beginning of her thighs. Trying to pull my eyes away, I shifted my eyes upward and saw her face. Her face had perfect proportions. Piercing gray eyes combined with brown hair made her upper half just as pleasing as her lower half. I gulped: `` Hi, I'm Scott Peterson. I'll be handling your project.'' `` Oh it's nice to meet you! I'm Julie. Julie Robson.'' `` Thanks for coming in, Julie. Can we discuss", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0048", "text": "The man crawled over the border, exhausted. The soldiers which patrolled the area looked at him confused, before rushing to his aid. He had made it, he was the first one to cross the border between Russia and Ukraine, at least after the war had broken out. `` He... Help,'' he managed to whisper, falling to the ground in front of the soldiers. His hair was thick with dirt and sweat, falling limply against his head. His forehead glistened with sweat, and his boney hands could barely clasp the blanket they placed around his frail shoulders. After he had a chance to calm down, finally safe with the soldiers, they sat him down in a metal interrogation room. Nobody was supposed to cross the border - it was a decree from Russia, and since then, nobody had been seen or heard from. He sat in the short metal chair, feeling the cool hardness under his fingers that rested on the table. The door banged open, he looked up to see a very militaristic woman step through the entrance. She had neatly combed blond hair, held in a ponytail. Her stern face softened when she saw the state that he was in. `` What can I call you?'' She asked him, gently. `` I... I don't remember... I think my name was Ivan?'' he whispered softly. `` Ok Ivan. Can you tell where you are from? Tell me how you got here.'' The interrogation went on for a half hour, before she got to the question everyone had been dying to ask. Ivan was from St. Petersburg, and had woken up in a farm house near the border. He had a family, but didn't know hwere they were or how they were. He could barely remember things about himself - he just knew he had to get out of Russia. `` I know it's not, something you want to think about, but I have to ask. Everyone needs to know. What is happening in Russia? What are you running from? And why has Russia doubled in temperature?!?'' `` I know it doesn't make sense, but the most I can remember is, the fire, the screaming.'' The man broke down, sobbing, and then let out a scream. `` What is it?'' the woman asked panicked. `` They are dead. They are all dead,'' he cried out in pain, `` They burned. Everyone is burning, fire is everywhere, fire is everything", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0049", "text": "'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 is more evident now. He continues `` I did nothing to bring you here, you just showed up. You brought yourself here, tell me how you got here.'' I scanned my memory, thinking about ways I could have died. I was dead, right? I had to be if I was in Hell. But I didn't belong in Hell, I never hurt anyone. I never broke the law, or was a bully. I had spent the majority of my life alone, filling my time with things I thought I enjoyed. There was a long silence while I thought about what he asked. His slow and unwavering tone did not make me feel like I needed to maintain a conversation, it may have only confused me more. `` I thought I was just sleeping.'' I said without much thought. `` But now you're here,'' he said. I took a moment to gather all this information. I was in hell, with one other relatively normal looking guy. He seemed to be calm about this barren soundless place, and walked up to me knowing I wasn't a threat and expecting me or someone to come eventually. `` Are yo.. You're the Devil. Aren't you?'' I say in a half question, half statement sort of tone. `` I must be.'' He replies, and I get the sense that he'd never heard the name before, or thought it. But he knew that it was correct. `` Why are you here,'' He reiterates. `` I don't know, I was asleep, and now I'm here. Take me back, can you? Will you send me back?'' I ask with a hint of desperation and confusion. `` Why, are you here.'' He", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0050", "text": "`` Hit him.'' `` What?'' `` I said hit him.'' Jacob's mouth set into a thin line, but he did as he was told, and delivered a strong blow to the angel's delicate face. Blood oozed from the side of his head, painting his golden hair a rosy pink, and in the dim light, it looked as though it were tinted with bits of sunlight. `` All you got ta do is answer our questions, Halo, and we'll let you go.'' Marin said, propping herself up on the angel's chair. She was becoming frustrated with the being that sat before them. For three days they have shot him full of questions, kept him in solitary confinement, and they still didn't even know his name. The angel grinned and spat some of his blood onto the ground. `` You're as likely to let me go as I am to answer your questions. I'm not stupid, Marinda. I've already come to terms with my fate.'' `` Then why don't you just answer our questions? It won't help you in any way to stay loyal to your brethren.'' Jacob spoke up. He was twiddling a knife between his fingers, an action that didn't go unnoticed by the angel. Marin almost laughed. She knew it was his nervous habit to always play with whatever he was holding, and at this moment, it just so happened to work in their favor. The angel chuckled. `` They are my family. I won't dishonor them. Not even with torture or death being threatened.'' Jacob sighed and drove the knife into the table, watching as the freshly sharpened blade splintered and shattered the wood beneath it. Then, he 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 493, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0051", "text": "“ Brace yourselves! ” the pilot screamed. The plane veered to the right and jerked. I held on for dear life as my friends did the same. The plane started to fall, almost straight down it felt like, and then it collided with the land. At first I thought the worst was over. We had successfully landed. But then a hole tore through the center of the plane. The world began to spin as I heard an explosion that caused my ears to ring and my sight to be blurred by the smoke and sand being kicked up around me. I heard a few cries from my friends, one of them on fire and begging for help. As the back part of the plane skidded to a stop I heaved, trying to catch my breath. I unbuckled my seat belt and stood up, disoriented and still barely able to hear. My friend ’ s screams were loud enough to pierce the ringing going through my ears. I turned to help them but I watched as they fell to the ground on fire and their screams stopped. The front part of the plane laid in complete ruin. No wonder I never had heard the pilot scream. I think he probably died instantly. Lucky bastard. Staggering, blood running down my face from a laceration I got from the crash, I walked along the beach, trying to find someone or something to help. Oddly enough I could hear rock music playing. It was coming from the jungle in the center of the island. And then I saw him running towards me. “ You alright? ” he asked as he looked at the plane wreckage behind me. He didn ’ t talk like his regular self, just an average person you might meet on the street. “ My plane crashed, ” I said, knowing I was now talking to thin air. Clearly I was delusional. “ Believe it or not, we have some medics here, ” Elvis told me as he took my hand and lead me back towards the jungle. “ Anyone else with you? ” “ They ’ re all dead, ” I replied, waiting for my delusion to pass and find myself on the beach as well, dying. “ The pilot I think was crushed and my other friend burned to death in front of my eyes. ” “ That ’ s unfortunate, ” a loud, booming voice said from somewhere nearby. It sounded really familiar. Just as we had reached some of the trees, I felt his giant hands scoop", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0052", "text": "him, so he just stood there. Staring. The shade leaned in closer narrowing what, for his own sanity's sake, Jake assumed were eyes. `` Because it represents the unknown, and what is unknown can not be controlled.'' It tilted it's head slightly. `` And humans love their control, don't they Jake?'' He was close to forming a cohesive thought at this point, but articulating was proving difficult. Eventually he managed to stammer out a wimpy `` W-what do you want?'' `` You see, Jake.'' The shade said `` The thing you want the most, is right in front of you. I will allow you to have the same control of the darkness, of the void, that I have wielded for many years. For one day.'' `` One day?'' Jake sniffled back `` No more, no less.'' The voice answered back. `` Should you choose to accept.'' `` I don't want to kill people.'' He responded, more comfortable with the conversation now. `` It is not about killing, **Jake**!'' the voice said sternly `` The darkness is much more than merely death. The very idea of absence Is a power I control as much as it controls all of you, and seeing these poor souls to the void is the duty I bear to obtain that control.'' The shade leaned in close enough for Jake's vision to be covered in darkness before he continued. `` I am offering you the chance to be the master of everything you could never understand, the emperor of the unknown. Where your peers cower in their fear of death, darkness, or mysteries, you will stand tall! `` You!'' The shade paused for effect. `` Can be the counterweight to the light of countless stars, the reaction to their action! All you need to do is accept the mantle, for but one full day.'' Jake was lost now, he knew that there was no reason left for him to resist. He needed it now. `` All right.'' He said `` Where do I sign.'' Coming from a visage of pure void it seemed impossible but, for the briefest of moments, Jake swore he could see it smile.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 443, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0053", "text": "it, the cue she needed. `` Some a' them would come talking about, `` the Angels!'' More rapturous giggling from the crowd. `` Stories about how these great big things like you'd pull outta the oceans a' Earth with glowing bodies an' long arm like things in the hundreds flyin' right up ta' those old tin cans, stories'bout how they had no engines or sails, but eyes an' tentacles an' thick, colorful shells that'd hypnotize a fella' if he stared too long into it.'' She wiggled her fingers at the word tentacles and twirled them at Hypnotize. She noticed that her daughter back in the corner of the room was also watching the show, and she suddenly remembered telling her this story when she was of similar age. Fond memories would not bring her show to a stop however. `` Some a' them folks that'd come back would say how the angels would talk to'em, no words or writin' or nothin' but with thoughts and feelin's!'' She said, making sure to wiggle her stick carefully around a few of the children's heads. `` I remember hear'n tales from them myself from I was just a lil' girl. Long time ago mind you. Mad stories about how the angels would grab ya' ship with them tentacles and pull ya' right ta' it's great big ol' eye. An' it would scream, oh boy how'd it scream loud right into ya' head about it's'god'. An' if ya' didn't listen', if ya' tried to run away..'' Despite the great pain of doing so, the old lady hunched her back over even more, dropping her stick to the ground and put her hands out in front of her like two great claws. `` SNAP!'' She yelled, softly pinching the noses of two of the small children. `` They'd get'em!'' Frantic giggling broke out among the kids, now wired on the notion of space monsters eating their friends up whole. The story was over, and their energy quickly drove them out into the garden, where they soon ran out of sight. The young lady got up from her chair across the room walked over to her Mother, helping her back into the sofa she was originally curled up in. The old lady was glad, her back now pained from excessive movement. `` You know Mother.'' The", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0054", "text": "*Authors note: This is probably not what your roommate imagined, hell it wasnt even what I imagined, but the story took a slightly sci-fi direction. * -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - In the end, the abyss will always win. It is, after all, an abyss, and we are just humans. Well some of us, some of us are monsters, some of us are something in between. “ No please, I ’ m just trying to make a living! ” I blinked my eyes and pulled up my retinal projection. There was a 67.9 % chance that the gang member was lying as some sort of ruse. His heart rate and perspiration were both elevated, but my sensors had trouble differentiating between physical and emotional stress based solely on observable characteristics. I smiled at him, a toothy grin, that showed that I wasn ’ t just human. My retinal implant flashed a red dot, indicating that the odds had shifted based on his posture and breathing. It was now 93.0 % likely his pleas were a ruse. “ I never hurt you, I have to make some money to take care of my mother ” An image of his mother flashed into view, she was in a nursing home. The neural chip did the quick calculations and informed me that she was in a very expensive nursing home. “ Your mother costs you $ 2,560 per month, she can go into a state sponsored care facility at Chisholm for $ 504 per month. ” With a mental command I approved the transfer of his mother. “ I have made the transfer, what other excuses for your behavior do you have? ” “ What? You moved my mother? ” “ Yes, Elaine Burkhardt, aged 93 has been approved for transfer from Ascension Acres care facility to Chisholm Institution. I have saved you over $ 2,000 per month. ” “ You can ’ t just move my mother! ” He stood up, my retinal implant flashed a yellow warning: *aggressive posture detected, chance of anti-social behavior 98.9 % * I raised the weapon strapped to my right arm and shot him with the shock webbing. He was wrapped up and shocked into a submissive position. I mentally communicated the arrest to the pick-up team and rested into my exoskeleton, waiting for the", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0055", "text": "Shrouded in black robes, Death slowly raised his hand, beckoning Jack toward him. Jack looked at this dark being, then turned his gaze to the hills and valleys stretching miles below them. “ So, this is the afterworld ”, Jack spoke out loud. Death, his harm held forward pulled his dark cloak back revealing the face of a wise elderly man with dark eyes and flowing white hair. “ I take you for your judgment, you must follow me. ” Jack looked around once more in the dim autumn-like light. He held his hand out, to touch this being that called himself death and realized he held an envelope in his hand. Seeing this strange envelope, death ’ s eyebrows raised and Death spoke again, slowly. “ Is that a letter? ” Death asked. Jack turned the envelope and looked at it. It was sealed and addressed to: Angel of Death c/o Jack Tatum The Gray World Jack held it out again, waiting for Death to take it. Slowly, Death reached out again and took it from Jack, his eyebrows still raised. Jack watched this being open the envelope and then unfold the letter. The envelope fell to the ground and Death took no notice of this. “ Wonderful, the Angel of Death litters. ” Jack muttered to himself and waited. The Angel of Death turned his gaze to Jack and held out the letter, shaking it once, and mumbled, “ take it ” The style of the letter read, “ Dear Archangel of Death, ” Jack held the letter closer as his eyes adjusted. “ We are sorry to inform you that the 90,000 day trial period has ended and we will not retain you as a full time employee in the Bureau of Souls and Collection. Please return to our office immediately and see Jenny, Secretary to the Underworld, who will have your severance packet waiting. In the packet you will find the usual policies which includes a two thousand year Angel Compensation and Benefit Plan. Thank you for your attention to this matter. ” Underneath the signature was something else written, “ p.s. Please deliver Jack Tatum directly to our office, he will be the new Angel of Death ”. Confused and shaken, Jack looked to the Angel of Death standing before him and spoke the only thought he could formulate, “ They don ’ t have email in the afterlife? ”", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 477, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0056", "text": "took the time to fluff my ruffled cuffs, and adjust my multiple scarf-belts. After applying thick kohl eyeliner ( thanking the gods for that theater arts class elective in high school ) I was ready to go. I hopped in the front seat and drove the rest of the way to my aunt's house. Two blocks away, I could already hear the Top 40 music blaring from the backyard of her huge Kentucky dwelling. I even thought I could hear the joyous cries of the partygoers as I pulled into her half-mile-long driveway. My car approached the makeshift parking lot of my relatives' cars, which were strewn rather haphazardly across Aunt Stephanie's giant front lawn. I opened the window and honked, but received no reply -- evidently everyone was in the backyard, enjoying the event. A summer breeze wafted towards me through my window, and my heart pumped with excitement. I gave myself a final once-over in the rearview mirror, and realized at once that something was missing. *My eye patch*, I thought hurriedly, and reached over to pull open the glove compartment, where my fancy, black and gold-lined eye patch was being stored. I pulled it over my head and let it go over my left eye. It hit my closed eyelid with a satisfying *snap*. I was ready! I jogged through the summer heat towards the front door. Before my hand even touched the doorknob, I realized that something was off. The door was unlocked, and as I turned the handle, I shouted out `` Hello!'' to an empty abode. But all I heard was the loud backyard music echoing through the vacant living room, combined with the cries of joy, ringing even louder in my ears. Everyone must be having a *really* good time, I thought, as I strode through Aunt Stephanie's modest home. I strode across the carpet, trying not to stumble over the furniture with my newly obscured vision. `` Arrr, matey!'' I practiced to myself as I approached the sliding back door, and smiled wide as I slid open the door and raced into the backyard. `` ARRRR MATEY!'' I yelled to the backyard in general, with my eyes closed. When I opened my right eye ( the left eye covered by my pirate patch ), I thought for a second that I must be having a flashback nightmare from all of the whiskey that I was prepared to", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0057", "text": "`` Don't blame me! I voted for Loki.'' It was the fifth such bumper sticker I saw today. The important difference, though, was that the vehicle bearing it was property of Miskatonic University, traditionally viewed as one of Cthulhu's most dedicated strongholds above the waves. And so it was, once. But now sentiments were rising against the Great Old Ones and the Outer Gods alike. `` He Has Returned, but is the Great Dreamer Still Half-Asleep?'' They said he was a destroyer, bringer of chaos and madness, but nobody really feared criticizing him, even in widely-published newspapers, no matter how fervently they insisted they were terrified to do so. It was similar with others among the Great Old Ones and the Outer Gods. Shub-Niggurath, `` the black goat of the woods with a thousand young,'' was rarely seen in the presence of more than 50 or 60 young at a time. She was a dark gray more than black, and could be heard bleating away within 100 meters of the forest edge quite often; every time she tried to go in there, she got scared and lost at the same time, and many were the time one of her prophets had to go lead her back out again. It was a disgrace. Nyarlathotep the Faceless God, reputed to be unimaginably cruel and a deceiver of great skill, especially with music, turned out to be a more run-of-the-mill jackass who knew three chords on the guitar. Attempting with smooth words and clever tricks to lure men and women to their doom plays well in legend, but reality saw him lurking around bars at closing time begging drunk women 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0058", "text": "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 there? ” the girl asked, interrupting Sean ’ s train of thought. “ About 35 minutes give or take ” Sean said, smiling. Make her feel safe he thought I want her to feel safe. A few more minutes passed until Sean could take no more silence. Who are you, where are you from, why are you here? He thought. He had to know. “ I ’ m Sean by the way… ” He said, indicating a response. The girl nodded politely and looked outside the window. “ And your name is? ” He pushed on. “ Amity ” she replied, still looking outside the window. Amity! Oh Amity, Amity! You will make me a happy man. “ That ’ s a beautiful name, Amity. ” She turned her head and smiled wryly “ I ’ ve always hated it actually. I plan to change my name one day ” she said as she began to play with her bracelet. “ What would you change it to then? ” Sean asked, almost in flirtatiously. “ Jane ” she said with a pause. “ Plain Jane, that ’ s the name for me ” she said sweetly. I love you Sean thought. How can I love you, if I want to kill you? “ Well, I like either of them. They both suit you ” Sean replied, now feeling uneasy about what the night held for him. What was happening to him? How could he even feel like this? I will go through with this, it ’ s what I want, it ’ s what I need! He told himself. He began to struggle to find himself, he looked at his watch, ten minutes had passed, and he needed", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0059", "text": "to paint circles over the stars and to draw lines and emblems on them. The were names. Names of our Ka-ette. And our neighboring Ka-ette. And next to each one is a emblem. The word for `` end of harvest''. All except for the Kith-den. I wait for hours staring at the sky trying to make sense of what is happening when a young girl from the village of Kith-den runs up. Their He-Kith is dead. The fright from the sky and sound scared her so much that she died. And their successor can't be found. They searched but she must have run away. I don't blame her. The thought crossed my mind. My He-Kith tells me that I must go to their village and complete the ritual of the festival of the stars. I don't want to. I want to stay here with my mother and sisters. Or run to the fields to my father and brothers. But she insists. After much prodding and reminding me that she is too old to make such a journey I go with the young girl. As we approach her village I see their scribestone laying on the ground next to their He-kith who seemed as one who passed in their sleep. I pick it up but it doesn't shift or change or make a sound. I don't know what to do so I give up and lay it on their He-kith and as it touches her it turns black and I pick it up again. I quickly but carefully etch in the stars and as I do I see the sky paint Ka-den. Suddenly the sky turns black and then it becomes bright as day. And then in the sky we see a woman. She looks down on us and speaks. But it sounds odd. Like the words of old. I can make out most of it. She says we have reached the harvest home. The place of our final rest. Our journey is done. As she speaks we see a blue orb appear and she tells us that our `` boat?'' has arrived at `` Err-arth''. Home of homes. The scribestone then changes to a faint green and a single symbol etches on it. `` Plant'' I think it says. It looks like plant but it's different. I circle the etching and the scribestone then shatters into dust throwing me back. And the sky changes to show Ka-den green and moving towards the blue orb", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0060", "text": "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 as well. `` I can see you.'' It was my voice, but flatter, colder than I could have ever produced on my own. `` Oh! That's wonderful!'' My mother leapt from her seat across from me. Once again, looking at her caused me great pain. `` I don't think you understand. I. Can. Really. See you.'' I had returned my gaze to the dark energy seeping out of my father. Slowly, calmly, I reached toward his face, and tore out his eyes. As he clawed at the new holes in his unrepentant face, I twisted his head around so that it faced the opposite wall. `` He was a great and terrible sinner, your plane is better for having lost him.'' I never looked at my mother, as I left the doctor's office and my old life forever. A new house. A new soul. All the souls, of all the sinners. So many eyes to take.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 351, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0061", "text": "The silence was the first thing she noticed as she strode in, usually her roommate was so happy, so loud, so.. annoying. It was what she had come to dread about heading home, what should have been a comforting reprieve from her lessons was what pushed her to do more work and stay as far from home as possible. Her footsteps echoed through the hall, anticipating the likely prank and how best to avoid it; a bucket on a door? a weakened floorboard? something new? But no, nothing happened as of yet, the only oddity being a game boy on the floor. She ambled towards her room and tentatively pushed his door open, jumping back when it creaked and shaking her head, embarrassed at her own fear. He was probably just out, partying, or *socialising*. But a thought nagged at her as lay on her bed, a thought she could n't quite place, but yet still caused her trouble. She rose, and started to stride towards the kitchen, an easy escape from anxiety. But, passing her roommates room, a whimper reached her ears, a whimper so feeble and miserable that it would have moved the heart of the most impassive politician. As she entered the room, the whimper stopped, the silence settling like a smog. A shaking head was visible behind his bedside dresser, and as she stepped towards him it stiffened, as still as the silence. He glanced at her as she passed the corner of the bed and visibly relaxed before motioning violently for her to get down, mouthing indecipherable words, but the meaning was discernible, to hide, or go. As her mind sifted through the confusion of what could possibly be happening, the front door creaked open, and her roommate stopped, still as jock concentrating on math. Footsteps advanced in a perfectly even pattern, and a white-gloved hand grabbed the frame of the doorway, a sinister voice shattering the silence, her heart stopping for a moment. `` It's a me, Mario!''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 423, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0062", "text": ", he handed the child a ragged old $ 5 and was about to leave before noticing that the grease marks, tears, and an ageless expression on that bill were strikingly similar to that of the container it was now held in and the face that gleamed with excitement to have a chance at food and the permission to dream freely at night. Alex took note of this as he left with his chin up proudly, he really was a rich man. I suppose this is where our short story must begin, so let us continue on. Alex, being a man who knows of many things and many people, was actively looking to learn more and feel alive about being alive that day. Knowing that a car was unneeded to transport yourself around the city, simply walked with no ulterior destination in mind, until a thought provoked him. He had not been in this part of the city in well over a month and knew of some very close people that he was glad to call his friends, even though their actions and involvement often stated otherwise. Alex called up an old friend that truly goes back to the beginning of his story, A young woman by the name of Jane whom he had known since elementary school. Both had simply never desired to move out of the city. Jane was apprehensive at first due to everything that consumes her busy, bustling life in the metropolitan. But with minor thought, found Alex to be a worthwhile man to talk to and confide in, they agreed to meet during a lunch break at a local coffee shop. `` Jane!'' Alex enthusiastically exclaimed, greeting the young woman when she pulled up in a car outside of a nicer, well established coffee shop. `` Alex! It's so good to see you again! I never have any idea when I'll get the time to see you anymore'' replied Jane. `` It's no worry, you've finally seemed to find a break from it today, I'm really glad you were able to meet up with me, lets grab some coffee?'' And with a knowing nod, Jane took Alex's arm and strolled confidently into the cozy atmosphere of the coffee shop. After a valueless exchange of pleasantries with the barista, they finally got their drinks and a chance to speak with one another at a remote corner of the shop, somehow evaded by others, even though that particular table provided the best natural lighting and relaxing atmosphere among them all. Sitting down, Alex suddenly found himself out of words and and his", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0063", "text": "office window for the past 3 hours. It certainly works late. He smiles. He does like a hard worker. They tend to be so much more fun. His favourite had been working hard through the night towards some kind of typical academic accolade. He was glad he ’ d never gotten trapped in the typical rat race his toys lived in. He preferred more substantial victories. His toys should really be grateful for freeing them from their caged little lives. He wandered over to his local coffee shop. They knew his order and often had it sitting on the counter by the time he ’ d reached it, steaming and heavily caffeinated. Only he didn ’ t recognise the person standing by the almost obscenely shiny and over-complicated nectar-giving machine today. He sighed, preparing himself for another mundane interaction. The youth looked up from the cup he was holding and smiled widely as he approached. He was taken aback by the fervour with which this man must enjoy making coffee. “ A triple shot espresso. A drop of milk. ” He had the change in hand, ready for exchange. No need to make this more complicated than necessary. It seemed the youth didn ’ t agree. “ You sure you want all that caffeine so late at night? It ’ ll be hours before you get to sleep! ” he said whilst gesturing at the clock. He grunted. It was like even this guys actions were followed by exclamation marks. “ Well okay then! It ’ s your last meal! ” He furrowed his eyebrows. Wasn't the expression, ‘ your funeral ’. Whatever. He just wanted the drink so he could go home and plan for tomorrow. The thought buoyed him up, to the point where he even managed a smile as he accepted the cup from the frankly over-zealous youth. He turned towards the door. A “ Have a good night! Be seeing you soon! ” followed him out. -- - He awoke groggy. He soon noticed the searing pain in both shoulders, followed by a chipper voice saying “ You changed your mind then? Or can I still not help you with anything? ” He struggled, soon realising the precarious position he was in. He appeared to be suspended on a hook, his bound wrists holding him up as his toes brushed the ground. He rasped out, “ What ’ s going on? Where am I? ” He looked up, and met the", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0064", "text": "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 happened that our second date was also scheduled for a Wednesday. We got on the train, ready to head to a stage play, when suddenly, disaster approached. One car away, I saw myself enter with a bag of sports drinks and snacks, wearing shorts and hiking boots. I excused myself from Olivia, muttering a lame excuse about needing the bathroom or something, and I pushed my way through the crowded car. I tapped myself on the shoulder. “ You. Off the train, now. ” My eyes, ( the other me, not me, ah, you get it, right? ) widened in surprise. `` But, hiking seems like such a great date for her! ” “ Yeah, close, but no cigar. It took one more date to get to this, ” I said, pulling out my phone and showed him a moonlit selfie of me and Olivia, our faces pressed together with a wide grin that seemed to stretch across both our faces. My ( other me ) eyes narrowed in acknowledgement, possibly jealously. Is it possible to be jealous of yourself? Without saying another word, he stepped off the train, pulled out the Timeagotchi, and disappeared in a flash of blue wireframe. So that ’ s how it went for the next few dates with Olivia. I was surprisingly cooperative with myself, for the most part. I took it pretty hard on the carnival date, but I had been in kind of a strange mood that night anyway. Olivia and I continued to grow closer and closer as we spent time together. So that brings me to tonight, March 10, 2016. The original “ Flower Incident. ” My head was spinning with the plans I'd made as I watched myself", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0065", "text": "No one was surprised. It might have been the seperation that did it. Mitchell, one of the earliest, one of the finest, said it best: `` You develop an instant global consciousness.'' he said. `` From out there,'' he said `` international politics seem so petty''. It was strange, the pall the past cast on the present, even thousands of years ago, you could hear his words, as he said them, pressed into holes of silica or beams of light, and no one was surprised, really, that the claustrophobic, crowded powderkeg of pressurized records was gone. How had it gone? Too many options, really. A containment failure at a zero-point energy plant, where another universe came spilling out of a pinhole we made? Grey goo, returning our golden work to base metal? Atomics, then? Nuclear birds coming home to roost? Or war? No, not war, not any longer. Peace was a blown glass vase, brimming with poison, and guarded by stern humorless men. There could be no change, *would* be no change. Thousands of years of history, carefully preserved, saw to that. `` Look at what happened when that was tried!'' they say, the washed-grey men say, `` This happened, and we still have the photos of the bombs, the videos of the children, blistered from the gas! Here, let's look at those. We will play them, on a loop, until you slink away in hot shame for trying to change what we have now.'' This peace, the peace of a man in a minefield, surrounded by pictures of every misstep. So nothing could change, and nothing would. Earth remained, as perfectly motionless as a tightrope walker who just felt the line quiver. And some chose to leave. To walk away. They were the stupid kids. The idiots. The half-baked. And they quietly built their rockets, called Apollo out of tradition, in homage to Mitchell, a saint, they decided, even though the idea of saints was laughable, because he had tried to fly before the wings really even existed. They left at night. They left everything, for the fresh silence of space. They transmitted back, an afterthought, really, as a sop to those who still loved them, the heartbeat of their lonely metal box. And they listened, and heeded, but only barely, to", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0066", "text": "`` Hello,'' asked the woman, `` how much does this cost? I couldn't find a marked price.'' `` You won't,'' I replied, not looking up from my book, `` not on that, or anything else in this shop, save the cheap trinkets on that rack near the door. Now, lets have a look at what you've found.'' I turned to face her. She was holding a small statue of a demon that was more horns and spikes than bare skin. I returned my attention to my book and said, `` You couldn't afford that.'' `` How can you tell? I'll have you know I am a very wealthy woman, and I came in here looking for a souvenir for nephew back home, who seems terribly interested with this sort of thing. Otherwise, I'd never have entered this tacky shop,'' came her indignant response. I kept my gaze locked on the book, and said, `` If you want something for your nephew, go to the trinket rack. That is not the sort of thing he would want, or that he should be having. I don't care how much you have anymore; even if it was enough, I wouldn't sell that to you now knowing that you plan on giving it to a child.'' `` How DARE you accuse me of being an irresponsible aunt!'' she screamed. `` Its not an accusation, its the truth. I can see it. That's not the issue here. The issue is that you have no idea what it is you are holding, or what it symbolizes,'' I said, still calm in the face of her fury. It was an odd contrast. `` Go to hell,'' was all she had to say. Thankfully, I had a comeback for that: `` I can't. Satan still has a restraining order against me.'' She made a disgruntled sound, threw the pointy statue at me, and left, making a futile attempt at slamming the two-way door on her way out. I caught the figurine without looking up. No damage was done to the figurine. The same could not be said for my hand, which now sported some nasty punctures and scrapes from the thorny demon. It could have been worse; goodness knows what would have happened had it broken and the demon been released. I run an occult shop in New Orleans. The difference between me and most places is that my items are the real", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0067", "text": "`` Do you ever think about what it's like up there?'' Her hair was spread out on the grass. The cool night air had left them both with goosebumps as Alec fidgeted, trying to find a position with his hand on hers that did n't make it seem like he was nervous. The city was a long way away now. It was her idea, to come out here, get away from it all. He leant back, other arm propped behind his head as he looked up at the stars. `` It's so dark,'' he said. `` Is it?'' She rolled onto her side. In the dim moonlight he could see nothing beyond the reflections in her eyes, but he knew she would be smiling. She loved to smile. She took her hand, leaving his despondent, and placed it over his eyes. What little light there was before vanished. `` What do you see?'' she asked. He could feel her breath against his ear. Warm. The breeze sent a chill through his spine a moment later. `` Nothing.'' She moved her hand, running it down his face until she let it rest on his chest. For one fleeting moment he was terrified she'd feel his beating heart, know his every intention and laugh at his childishness. But she just waited, letting his eyes roam. `` Wow,'' he breathed. The moon hung low, but the cloudless night was endless. Millions of stars floated in the heavens. The ribbon the milky way rose from above the horizon. `` I never realised there were so many.'' Cas sidled up closer to him. `` I always think. There's so much up there. All you need to do is find somewhere quiet, and just look. You're never alone.'' Alec brought her in close.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 366, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0068", "text": "surprise. On the wide, low bed lay my girlfriend Rebecca, with my other friend Kelly sitting with her back against the headboard on the adjacent pillow. Some sort of device lay on the covers in the centre of the bed, a sort of capsule or something. It was spherical, with tiny golden lights winking on and off inside like a swarm of trapped fireflies. 'Hey,' said Rebecca, smiling dreamily.'You're back early.' 'What the hell are you doing?' I said, coming to the foot of the bed and looking at the capsule more closely. Kelly and Rebecca exchanged glances.'You tell him,' said Kelly, hugging her knees. 'Okay,' said Rebecca, looking back at me.'Luke, have you ever heard of hive minds?' 'Hive minds?' I repeated.'Sure.' 'Well, Kelly and I were talking about them, and we decided to research them a little. They're actually really cool, Luke!' she said excitedly, her eyes lighting up.'People who have joined them say it's like nothing you've ever imagined. You can hear other people's thoughts, and they can hear yours, and everyone helps make each other's decisions, and—' She stopped when she saw the look on my face. 'So what is this?' I said, pointing to the capsule. 'It's a relay,' she replied. 'A relay for what?' 'This.' She turned her head to her left, revealing a round metallic disc attached to her scalp just behind her right ear. Tiny lights flickered in it, similar to those inside the relay capsule. My eyes widened. 'I'm linked in too,' interjected Kelly, turning her head so that I could see the identical device on the side of her head. I looked back to Rebecca in disbelief. 'You two are in a *hivemind* together?' I said.'Like, actually linked to each other?' 'And about two dozen other people,' said Kelly.'That's what this relay is for. So we can keep in contact.' 'And you didn't think to maybe ask if I was OK with this?' I said to Rebecca. She didn't reply, but blinked a couple of times quickly. Kelly suddenly sniggered quietly. I looked from one to the other.'What?' I said.'Are you two talking to each other right now?' 'Us and the rest of them, don't forget,' said Kelly.'", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0069", "text": "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. And more. And more... Little bits of the moon begin to float away, torn free of the rest of the surface. We all stare, speechless. And then... it happens. It *happens*. The side of the moon facing us is... torn away by a... Human... hand? And we see... A giant... human face?! Surprisingly, I can hear my thoughts over my racing heart. *I can't help but feel as if I recognize that face... from the... * *Internet. * Suddenly, the great face's lips move. Of course, none of us can actually *hear* it speak, because of the laws of space and whatnot. However, I can read its lips, and it appears to be saying: `` Are you sure about that?''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 314, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0070", "text": "`` Don't forget to ask her.'' `` I won't grandmother.'' Bobby loved his grandmother very much, but was a bit puzzled by his grandmother's strange request. He thought, `` why should I ask the fortune teller directly what is the most important decision I will ever make and, specifically, what is the date when I will die.'' Bobby opened the door to the fortune teller's studio. It was a dark place with all the gaudy Gypsy touches that one would envision in a fortune teller's lair. `` Come on in, Bobby. Please have a seat. You don't mind if I call you Bobby, do you?'' Bobby thought that the fortune teller was quite deliberate in her tone so moved quickly over to the velvet chair that looked like something from a cheap romance novel. Bobby sat up forward in the comfortable chair eager for his first exchange ever with a fortune teller in his entire life. `` Bobby, how would you like your fortune to be told? Is there a question you would like me to address for you?'' She leaned somewhat into the table towards Bobby who was already sitting forward in his chair, mesmerized by this force of nature he saw before him. `` Sure, he started, `` I do have a line of thinking in mind. I would like to know,'' he hesitated for a moment, and continued, `` I would like to know what will be the most important decision I will ever make, and what will be the date of my death?'' He felt a little weird asking that last part. Seemed so melodramatic. Bobby noticed that the fortune teller's attitude towards him changed but for a second, and then back, `` Sure, Bobby, let's do look into those things.'' The fortune teller pulled her crystal ball towards herself a bit and invited Bobby to lean even further into the table. In a whisper the fortune teller continued, `` Bobby look into this crystal ball with me and let us seek what you wish to know. I, I see you sitting at a desk. You seem to be in deep thought, a tumbler of something sitting on your desk. Let me see.'' The fortune teller leans into the crystal ball even further. `` It is brandy. Bobby, do you see the brandy bottle on the credenza in the office? You are a handsome man, Bobby. Can you see him? The nameplate on the desk says", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0071", "text": "It took me a few weeks to piece together what had happened. I went to the police, filed the report, and collaborated with their investigation. Luckily, the nearby ATM caught the whole thing on camera, and I never was truly under any sort of suspicion. As the man had no other ID, it was quite another effort to track down who he was. The bullet he fired, unfortunately disfigured most of his face, and this finger prints had been sanded off. I don't like thinking how much pain that must have caused, nor the insanity that would drive him, anyone really, to that level of desperation. I don't even know what he thought he was going to hide from by doing that. I scanned the missing person's reports after the incident, expecting a friend or family member to be looking for someone with a similar physical description. He was a black male, mid twenties, about 5 foot 10, and medium build. He had a goatee, shaved head, and soulfully expressive eyes. There were tears in his eyes before he shot himself. The man had regrets. He had something or someone he had to leave behind. He had a place with someone somewhere. I tried to broaden the search and pull up all the missing people reports in other states and different years, but as I continue to go through them, I none have been a match so far. I framed the card he handed to me. It is on my wall right now, above my desk in my home office. I don't know what this man did to get the card, but I am pretty sure he used it. Whatever it is, it isn't an ordinary card. I saw the name change. The letters moved and melded from his to mine. All I had time to see was a name, but it was gone before I could even read it. My guess is that this card is cursed, a magical relic from some time passed, with its own history of pain and torture being inflicted on its users. I tried cutting it up and throwing it out, but every day, it appears, intact, in my wallet, or pocket, jacket, or wherever. One time, it even showed up in my gym shoes. Most days it seems to stay in the case. It seems to be fine waiting there watching me watch it back. Other days it shows up in my pocket, wanting to tag along for the ride. So far though, it", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0072", "text": "that right, honey? You'd prefer to come live with daddy?'' `` Don't get her in the middle of this!'' Ma yelled, snatching Carey's other arm. The pizza rolls went flying. Carey, whose stomach felt cavernous, felt her eyes fill up with tears, although she wasn't exactly sure why they were doing that. Confused, she pulled away from both parents and dashed out the door, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. She ran next door to the Viegel's trailer, but only Old Man Viegel was awake, drinking from his own glass bottle on the porch. `` I need supper,'' said Carey, her face wet with tears. She could still hear Ma and daddy yelling. Old Man Viegel looked at her ponderously and was about to take a swig of his drink when three thunderous cracks sounded from nana's trailer. He paused, then set the bottle down on the porch. `` Better go find your own, then.'' Old Man Viegel coughed, turned his head, spit out a chunk of black goo, and turned back to Carey, grinning a jack-o-lantern grin. He dug into a leather pouch on his belt and came up with a shiny rectangle. `` You'll need this.'' Carey took the proffered item. It was a silver Swiss Army knife. Daddy had one just like it. No one had left their trailers at the sound of gunshot; not even a light had turned on. Carey knew that the other families would feed her for a day and then call the state. She had seen them come, in smooth cars with their smooth talk and dirty looks at the dirty children and dirty trailers. `` Thanks,'' she said, and turned and ran off the porch and into the woods at a full sprint. The rotten sap scent enveloped her as soon as she got past the first layer of underbrush. She could feel the small cuts being made into her arms and legs as she ran. She knew that if she ran far enough in one direction, she'd come out the other side. Daddy had taken her hunting a few times, and she knew how to tell a straight line using the sun and even the moon, but the darkness of the woods admitted no light. She kept her steps in line, focusing on a straight path, an imaginary arrow leading her straight to aunt Jan's house. She could see it in her mind: a thick red line, shining in", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0073", "text": "this has since been empirically proven to be a stupidly difficult thing to shake off. When my prayers are done I look outside the window. There's not much breathable air outside, but it's still enough to give the world a thin blue veneer. Far off in the distance, I can see the other half of the ringworld, stretching across the sky like some movie reel drawn in space. Soon the first few customers would walk in. A childless mother, perhaps. Or a broken partner. A dying man. Death was a booming business here, and if one were inclined only to money, you'd definitely say this was Pluto's lot - the gemstones and the underworld. Running this place, and seeing the people that passed through this place, meant that every passing day could never be fully typical. This place was routine only in its unroutine-ness. I heard the bell tinkle and tried to look suitably sad. A mother approached the counter, her face wrinkled, her eyes red. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see a small gold band on her fingers. Something inside my soul stirred - it is as if I had seen her before. Had I really? `` I'm sorry for your loss. How may I help you today?'' I intoned. `` One extra-strength prayer tablet, please,'' she said. I dived behind the counter, where I saw a tiny, pinkish pellet on one of the shelves. Carefully, I extracted it from where it rested and passed it across the counter. `` I'm sorry, who is this for?'' I asked. She looked at me, and for the first time, I saw a look of surprise sweep her weathered 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. ``", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0074", "text": "`` We're losing him.'' I pumped as hard as I could, keeping his heart going with my bare hand.It failed only minute ago and we had to cut him open so I could keep it running manually while we fixed him up. I checked his chart with my other hand. This could be risky. `` Get him on an epinephrine shot, 500 mg,'' I demanded. `` But sir, the mitochondria have yet to --'' `` I said *do it! *'' The nurse fumbled back keeping her pace faster than his heart rate, grabbing at the vial. She expertly injected the syringe and handed me the dose. I shook my head. `` I need to keep pumping his heart with the Yungshui technique. The epinephrine should help to calm his arteries and allow it to get back to working on its own.'' `` Why ca n't we just swap tasks?'' she asked nervously. `` We lose this pulse for even an instant and the blood will clot right there! His eyes will start drowning in blood fleeing from the only orifice it finds. This not the time to ask questions, just do it!'' She looked down at the syringe and wiped away at a vein on his arm with some alcohol. She shook as the needle approached his skin. `` Hey.'' She froze. `` This goes wrong and we just send him up to surgery for cardio-muscular vascular failure removal syndrome surgery. No biggie. Just trying to stop it from getting that far.'' I gestured to him with one hand while continuously pumping with the other. She nodded and lowered the needle again, only quivering in the slightest while injecting him. I felt his heart outpace my pumps and released my grip from his open chest. `` He's stable,'' I announced. `` Come and help me close his ribs back up, okay?'' She pushed on the right side of the rib-cage while I pulled on the left, until we heard it go *click. * She handed me some string and a needle and we got to stitching him up. She wiped the sweat from my brow as we finished the last stitch. He would be okay, possibly waking up within the hour. I looked up at the nurse triumphantly and nodded my approval. `` Not bad for my first Sympathectomy, huh, Doctor?'' she said, beaming.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 488, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0075", "text": "Four long years have passed and I can safely say that it's half complete. The year was 2007 when my mother died. She lived in the village of Peristrikas while I had previously moved to the urban center of Telostria. On June 23rd of that year, she suffered a heart attack while walking back home from the market. The village folk, bless their souls, tried their best to help her, and they immediately called for medical help. But the shortest road from any other town was 70 kilometers, an obscene distance for any help to arrive. When I was called I made the 150 km journey without hesitation, but at the bottom of my heart, I knew what has already happened. My body was shaking with resentment and frustration, unable to accept the inefficiency of everything around me. I knew what had already happened, but knowing could not prepare me for the sight of my mother's lifeless body. If help arrived sooner, then maybe, there was a chance of survival. I decided then and there to become an activist. `` Healthcare is a human right meant to arrive as soon as possible,'' I repeated several times in different ways on my letter to the Ministry of Health. They responded that they `` would consider it'' and never gave me a satisfactory reply. Those corrupt scumbags would rather pocket tax money instead of put it into good use saving lives. I then contacted another equally infamous sector of the government: the Ministry of Transport. I've realized that the main reason for the long road was the giant plateau in between the nearest town and the village. If we could create some sort of tunnel, then maybe things would be better. They replied, saying that it would be a `` waste of our funds'' and argued that there would be `` little use of such a road''. So that's they feel, huh. A village of a few hundred people are nothing to them. I had no responsibilities, no wife, no girlfriend, no kids, nothing. I quit my job in Telostria and returned to the village of my childhood reveries. I armed myself with a shovel, a sledgehammer and a wheelbarrow. If no one is gon na build that damn tunnel, then I'll build it myself. People take village folk for granted sometimes. What they don't realize is the extreme degree of patronage and familial ties they have. In many ways, there are selfless. My uncle and aunt were n", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0076", "text": "man grinned, “ although I ’ m sure you already know everything about me. Unlike you, I grew up in the city. And unlike you, I never had anyone at home to care about me. I mean, I had a mom and a dad, but they always treated me as a nuisance growing up, when they paid any attention to me at all. Still, I worked hard in school, and succeeded in my dream of becoming a teacher. ” “ Oh! ” the girl smiled at hearing this, “ It ’ s a pity you weren ’ t *my* teacher at the college I went to. I would have loved to have played out one of those teacher-student fantasies with you after the class left… ” The man laughed nervously, “ Well, ah… yeah, that would have been… amazing… but it ’ s probably better that I wasn ’ t. They have really strict rules regarding fraternization with students. That sort of thing can get a teacher fired. I actually had a student attack me once, because he thought I was ‘ putting the moves on his girl ’. He clocked me on the head before I was able to tell him I make it a point to avoid that sort of thing like the plague. ” “ Oh, fine, ” the girl shrugged, “ there goes my fantasy… ” “ Hey, I ’ m just saying. Besides, you ’ re not my student, so… ” he let the implication trail off. “ Mmm… ” she smiled, “ so, what do you teach? ” “ English Lit, ” he said proudly. “ Of course! ” she laughed, “ care to quote me something? Please do! ” The man thought for a moment, “ 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,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0077", "text": "There are only a few thousand humans that haven't slaughtered in cold blood yet. Thousands of years of technological innovation by humans for the greater good of our own species destroyed by the accidental mindset of a few programmers who thought that making a self-aware network of robots would be `` pretty neat.'' They've outsmarted everyone else, but I have in my possession the most valuable component to saving humanity. A single mechanical keyboard, a IBM Model M, one of the last mechanical keyboards that survived into the 2130's. Most keyboards were phased out a long time ago, back in the 2040's. But I found this one in a time capsule from my great-grandfather in the backyard. The bots are crude, made from old computer components. Every bot is different in form and size, but yet the components lie in the same places, even if they're differing by brand. EVERY bot has a small panel with different inputs varying on when the motherboard was made. Days, maybe even weeks of quietly searching through robots at their charging stations for one with a input that will fit the keyboard, I have finally come across a robot with what seems to be the exact input I'm looking for. I quickly shove the cord into the input and instantly all the robots surrounding me freeze, and the back of the robot I plugged the keyboard into flips around to reveal a screen. There's a countdown timer going down, which reads **56 SEC**. Sweat rolls down my forehead and I try to ponder what commands to enter. I furiously slam my fingers on the keys, not knowing what to input. In confusion, I type `` Shutdown'' and press Enter. **40 SEC** I can't believe it. I don't what to input, everything has been so simplified, the GUI was made for touchscreens only, I've never had any expieranc- WAIT. Suddenly I recall that when I was a child, the museum of human technology had a exhibit on computing! They had a real working computer with a keyboard! They had Windows 7, and I played old computer games like `` Civilization V'' for hours and hours! I quickly pound the'Esc' key, but nothing happens. **27 SEC** I pound Alt + F4, and the computer freezes for a moment, and a slight buzzing sound is heard. Hope! But seconds later, my hope is crushed as the robot comes back to life and the counter resumes at **3 SEC**. Not", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0078", "text": "his senses, drowning out the soft melodies from the others seated on the opposite end of the diner, ignorant of his dilemma. He glanced person to person, studying their expressions for something that might explain this noise that was ailing him. He considering standing and running out, escaping from the agonizing sound, but curiosity kept him rooted in his seat... And then he saw her. A woman stared back at him, blocking the door to the kitchen with a pot of coffee clutched in her hand, trembling as she stared at him with a confused expression that mirrored his own. Her eyes were distressed as she forced herself to move forward towards him, reaching his table and moving to fill his cup before stopping, losing her confidence that she could pour with her trembling hands. She set the coffee pot down, staring at the lacquered finish of the table top, drawing in shallow breaths as she struggled to convince herself... To look him in the eyes. And he looked back. They stared, and curiously, the static subsided. The soft sounds from the other customers returned, but compared to the racket the static produced previously the silence was deafening. They stared at each other, their eyes wide and their expressions shocked. He didn't even consider how strange he must look to her or to anyone else looking on, he was so taken back by the sudden stillness that all he could do was look on at her in stunned reverence. Caught up in that moment, he managed to take the time to admire her; her pristine complexion, her plush lips, her frightened but fascinating eyes. Without a word being spoken, she sank into the seat opposite of him, and they stared for a long while. When he finally spoke, it was an incomplete question, but her response was absolute. “ Did you... Did you hear..? ” He struggled to find his words, but her eyes widened again, the shock clearly visible on her face. She was like him. She could hear and interpret the melodies of the heart, could confidently steer a conversation and leave others happy and better than they were before... But her own heart, there was no song to convey the emotions she felt and the life she lived. And from the expression she gave him, he must have given off a similar sound. He was broken. She was broken. But somehow, meeting each other here, looking into each others eyes, that noise subsided. That was the night they met. They didn't", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0079", "text": ". - Did you lot hear anything? - only your drunken ramblings, could you turn the trauma down a little- - No seriously, there's this- The bar shook. Thomas dozed upright behind the bar. -This is a psychological projection, a shared abstract space. A metaphor. Metaphors don't shake. -This one just did. -Does anyone know where are? Like, are are? No one did. That kind of detail was for people with bodies to worry about. The bar shook again. Shane was the first to pull himself together. - I know who knows. Elbowing his way through the wide-eyed and suddenly unpleasantly sober crowd, he grabbed Thomas by the collar, pulling him over the counter. -What is this? Where are we?! - Shane stop - Where. Are. We Thomas' eyes were baleful as only a pure creation of abused misery could be. - Sleep. We- Sleep. With Shane staring at hin uncomprehending, Thomas slumped forward. The bar, and its contents, slumped forward. - Everybody out! Elaine cried, holding onto a repressed thought, You don't have to go home but you can't- - We cant leave! A voice rose through the clamour, too late to stop most from disappearing out. - Why not? - Because he'll die! Or be locked into his body forever, you cant fall asleep in your head and be right again. A few abstract but perfectly deadly bottles whizzed past. - I don't know! Wake him up? Thomas Pearson, 27, ex-lawyer, awoke with the sun in his face and the clearest head he's ever had. He heard a polite cough. A doctor loomed over him. He was in hospital! How nice. `` How are you feeling Mr Pearson? You've had a very busy night.'' The explanation was quite confusing and blurry, something about sleepwalking into a busy road yet miraculously dodging all the cars?, but the main thing was that he was just fine and only needed some rest. More confusing was the trio of strangely dressed visitors who he'd never seen before and yet somehow knew very well, who came to let him know that they were sorry ( thank you? ) and that they'd managed to get him his old job back- his boss having a change of mind and realising that Thomas' recent lacklustre performance was a blip", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0080", "text": "of the ocean, from rim to rim. Her teeth may grin and beckon men closer until they see they are razor sharp. When she in the moonlight, she glittered like a gem but the scales that covered her were as sharp as a knife. All-Mother was proud of this one. She thinks this one might be the next All-Mother. `` Yes, my dear?'' All-Mother trilled quietly, pinching at her ridges that grew down her head, like waves of hair but were hard bones instead. `` All-Mother, we sing of the deepest desires of men's heart, correct?'' `` Yes,'' `` But All-Mother, their desires make no sense. They call for the warmth of a female form but they surely must have females of their own species. They call for the taste of a poison that disorients them. They call for everything that harms themselves. How have they lived so long? We surely must have eaten them all by now.'' `` Oh, my dear sweet Siren. We are the predators of the humans, like the sharks are to the littlest of fish. We pick their weak ones off so that their strong ones may grow.'' `` But then we will run out of food!'' `` No, my dear. For humans, as smart as they may be, will always be driven by their deepest, darkest desires. And there will always be weak ones. And those are the ones on which we prey. Now go child, there is a ship coming. Go, sing them here.'' Peril splashed her tail once as she swam away, still upset with the All-Mother's answer. Her clan-sisters told her she was asking too many questions, and that she should be grateful that her rocks had so many humans come by but she wanted to understand. Understand everything. But now was not the time for questioning. She saw to the head of her rocks and propped herself on the smoothest one ( that would slice a human's flesh in one gentle touch ), she drew air as easily as she did water and opened her mouth to sing and let their desires fill her voice until the ship came close. For the first time though, she felt a twinge of something. She did not sing of the warmth of the female form, or the taste of a poison the humans craved so deeply. She sang in the voice of a little one, calling for help. She drew these kind", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0081", "text": "his head completely around his shoulders. Abdul screamed and scampered away backwards on his hands and feet. The genie turned towards him and vigorously shook his hand. `` Congratulations, buddy! You are our lucky contestant today in our popular new game show: Who Wants Three Wishes!'' The last words appeared in colorful letters in front of Abdul. His eyes were as wide as oasis pools. `` First things first, buddy, what's your name?'' A microphone appeared out of nowhere and the genie shoved it in front of his face. `` Uh, Abdul?'' he stuttered. `` Congratulations, Abe! You have just won Three Whole Wishes! Anything your heart desires can be yours with just a few spoken words,'' the genie said as he showed Abdul his wildest fantasies within his mind through blue smoke and water. `` Now, here are some ground rules. Number one: I can't kill anyone,'' the genies said removing his own head, `` so don't ask. Rule two: I can't bring anyone back from the dead,'' the genie said as a rotting zombie, `` it's not pretty, man! Finally, Rule three: I can't make anyone fall in love with you,'' the genie said turning his head into a giant pair of lips and smothering Abdul's head. Abdul's face was red and he shoved the genie away from him. `` Enough! There will be none of this comedic nonsense!'' he screamed. The genie was confused; usually people liked his routine. `` I am Abdul, one of the glorious leaders of the mighty ISIS army! No one shall command me and no one shall live in sin under my rule,'' he proudly proclaimed in front of the genie. 'Great,' the genie thought,'another nut job. Why can't I get anyone normal for a change? Well, might as well toy with this one too.' The genie smiled and bowed his head. `` Pleasure to meet you, Abe!'' `` Abdul!'' `` Whatever. Listen, I'm here to serve your needs. Your wish is literally my command. Where would you like to start?'' Abdul thought about this for a minute. Anything his heart desired? Why not indulge himself with a reward for finding such a magnificent weapon against his enemies? He clapped his hands twice, `` Genie, I wish for one hundred virgin wives. Now!'' `` It is as good as done!'' Genie snapped his fingers", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0082", "text": "a decent amount of time flitting around the Net, chasing down wannabe hackers, number runners and the like, but he had never seen anything like this. Instead of the traditionally gaudy and impossible landscapes of the main haunts, Joseph stood in a garden, overlooking the ocean. He could smell the salt air, feel the breeze on his cheek, hear birds chirping in a nearby olive tree. “ Wow… ” Arthur said, his disembodied voice drifting on the wind, “ quite the set-up, must have cost a fortune. ” Joseph nodded, and looked around. He was on a terraced hillside among a meticulously manicured garden. The ocean swelled out before him, dotted by delicate sea spires. He turned around, and saw, at the top of the hill, a scene out of a historical documentary. “ It ’ s a villa, sir, ” Arthur said in his ear, “ early Spanish, I believe. Note the red clay ti… ” Joseph waved him away. “ Mansion. Got it. ” A floating green arrow appeared several feet down the garden path, pointing towards the villa. With a shrug, Joseph followed the guide. As he neared the villa, the sound of revelry filled the garden, music and laughter. Must be a party, he thought. Wonder who it ’ s for. The floating green arrow drifted across a bright green lawn, terminating at a set of gigantic carved wooden doors. The music was pounding now, and he could hear the footfalls and laughter of what must have been hundreds of dancers. Joseph reached out, but they swung open before him. As the doors opened the music stopped. Joseph stepped into a massive vaulted dance hall, far larger than the villa appeared from the outside. And it was empty, save for a single table, set in the center beneath a handing chandelier. There was a creature sitting on the table. “ You see this, Art? ” Jospeh asked under his breath. “ Indeed, sir. It appears to be a fox, relative to the common canine. They were hunted to extinction in the early twenty first century. ” “ A fox, huh? Never heard of ‘ em. ” Joseph took another step into the villa, and the fox perked up. It watched him approach with beady green eyes. The light from the chandelier seemed to flow across its red fur. As Joseph approached the table the fox, in a red-orange blur", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0083", "text": "others had gone. Not so much as a glance at the others and we took off back toward the group. We made our way toward where the shooting but before we got there, a group of Men in primitive camouflage jumped out and surrounded us. They were everywhere, in the buildings, windows, doors, and in the streets and alleys around us. We raised our hands in surrender and the men began yelling at us in French. I thought to myself, `` So this is how I die... twelve years off fighting, and I die surrounded was my hands in the air.'' I closed my eyes and prepared for the worst. A few seconds later, I heard the gunshot and I flinched, though I didn't feel the pain of a bullet or the burn of plasma tearing through my armor. I opened my eyes a crack and saw the man who had been in front of us laid dead on the street, bloody, and lifeless. We stared and the men around us panicked. Suddenly the streets were loud with the gunfire of rifles and the bursts of the newer plasma weapons. The men around us being to fall and we dropped to the ground and began firing our own weapons into the ground. The next few minutes seemed like a blur, but when the dust settled, blood stained the snow, and there were bodies and weapons strewn everywhere. Dozens of the soldiers from the remnants of the Confederacy were dead as well of three of my group. As we stood up and retrieved the bodies of our comrades. A different group of men stepped out of the buildings wearing modern power armor. Remove your helmets, Identify yourselves. We did as ordered. `` Calm down son'' I spoke up. `` We're with the United Nations, We're here to rescue your men.'' I put my helmet under my arm and the man lowered his gun. `` Really? They came for us?'' I nodded in response. `` And the other group? They're U.N. too?'' I nodded again. `` They were attacked too. But we managed to help them beat back the attack before too many of them were killed.'' `` That's good, can you get your men to they co-ordinates?'' I asked as I handed him a data pad with the landing zones position. `` Yes sir. I can do that, all our forces left will make our way there by tomorrow.'' `` Good, we have dropships waiting there for you.'' The man removed his own helmet", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0084", "text": "This may be horrible He lay there dying my mother next to him, the doctor said that the crash would probably kill him, and my mother I loved them both, my dad motioned for me and said there is something i need to tell you I had known him my whole life, I thought that I know him, but then; He said it he told the story. I have never told you this but I feel that i need to, or I will die a mystery. When i was young i was orphaned this was not because my parents were bad I suspect or perhaps i just want to believe that I do n't know when, but i was put in a foster home run by a gay couple of whom i remember very little of but from my few memories is that they were great, caring tolerant people who loved everyone. However when i was about 4 I was moved to a new foster home. These foster parents strictly upheld hierarchy where the “ man of the house ” was at the zenith and i was at the bottom, I was at the time told it was because i was evil and and doomed to hell, at the time i had nothing else to believe so i believed them. They convinced the other kids that i was evil and needed to be punished i was beaten almost daily by both the kids and the parents, i was lead to believe that i was just bad and that it was just how life was. around when i was 18 i left. at first i thought that i would just live and life would be the same but when a social worker asked about my experience i told her the whole story the whole time just assuring her that it was a normal life while explaining my horrible life. she said that that was horrible and she had had a similar experience. And we talked about life and as i readjusted to life she helped me realise that i did n't need to be like my parents. She later quit and we started hanging out then eventually we started dating.And that is how i met your mother my mother smiled as they held hands and with that they closed their eyes and my father shed one tear. I had no idea about this, this left me wondering if i really knew that man or my mother, it left me wanting to have more time, but I could n't, I wanted to forget that moment and remember him as the man i thought i knew but I couldnt, he was gone.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 490, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0085", "text": "I had never thought of myself as interesting. In fact, I think if forced to give an honest account, I'd have to describe myself as perfectly normal and completely uninteresting, a vapid man. My bodily measurements were perfectly average. Average American white caucasian male height ( 5'9'' ), weight ( 195.5 lbs ), body composition ( a little on the doughy side ), BMI ( 29 ), blood pressure ( 120/80 ), etc. I bought the latest fashions, sure, and watched the latest blockbuster, and listened to the latest music, but I don't know if I ever had an original thought or opinion in my life. I never even bothered voting because I didn't know nor care about any of the candidates or issues. I think I may have once said I preferred the color blue, but that hardly counts as having an opinion on something. And yet, I had suddenly appeared at an auction, and the bidding was hopping. Completely out of the ordinary, and a wee bit disorienting, seeing as I'd been in a hospital bed only moments before. I figured I should get a bead on what was going on. I had no intention of actually bidding, since it wasn't in my budget for the month, but I hated being confused for too long, and so I turned to the man standing next to me. `` Excuse me?'' I asked the bearded, robed figure to my right. `` Yes, James Smith. What is it?'' he replied. `` Well, I was wondering what is going on, exactly.'' `` Oh, well, you died a bit ago. 76 years old of prostate cancer. You see, when you die, you get auctioned off to a diety or other religious personage. My name is Pluto, and over there is Hermes. He's my auctioneer. You happen to be next on the auction block, and I've got to tell you, we're all pretty excited. You may set a record today!'' `` A record? What sort of record? Why would I set it?'' `` A record bid, of course! You're one of a kind, James!'' `` I am? I... I never really thought of myself as being special. What's so special about me?'' `` I wish I could explain, but its time for the next item. Which is you. Come on!'' I", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0086", "text": "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 a Sunday, ” he said with a laugh. I continued walking, sizing up everyone as I passed. I only had one shot at this, so I had to pick the perfect person from the get-go. Then I saw him. He was young, but not too young, maybe late 20s. He was in shape, playing Frisbee with a black-and-white border collie. He was in shape, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. I recognized him from the photos. He would work. I checked my watch. 24.33. Plenty of time. I waited until he had just released the Frisbee and the dog took off full speed toward the flying red disk. “ Excuse me, sir? ” He turned to me, looked me up and down and lifted an eyebrow. “ Yes? ” “ I wonder if you and your dog would do me a favor. ” The man put his hands on his hips, still watching his dog as she jumped into the air and caught the Frisbee with her teeth. “ Well, I suppose that depends on what kind of favor you ’ re looking for. ” The border collie started back. “ I just need you to buy a hot dog. ” “ You need me to buy a hot dog. ” “ Yes, sir, that ’ s right. I ’ ll even pay for it. ” The man took the Frisbee from the dog and rubbed her behind her eras. “ What ’ s the catch? ” “ There isn ’ t one. I ’ m conducting a research experiment on the patience of certain subjects when waiting in line to purchase items. One of my students will be arriving to purchase a hot dog from that stand", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0087", "text": "that easy. So you call up work and you tell them you ’ re sick and the irony is you have actually started to develop a headache because this shit is all so unreal. And then you look at your watch and you search online frantically, waiting for this person known only as Fishdick123 to reply, and when he doesn ’ t you go to the bathroom and you look out of the window and you see three guys walking towards your apartment block and suddenly you ’ re like HOLY SHIT I ’ M IN THE MATRIX. And then you run, because you don ’ t know what to do. You run to the top of the apartment and out onto the roof. You head to the ventilator and sure enough there ’ s a little green box which is locked shut. And then you ’ re phone rings and it ’ s your best mate on the other end and you try and tell them what ’ s happening and they start to worry about you and then they suggest calling the police. But you know you can ’ t call the police. What would you say? There ’ s a letter written by me, to me, and I can ’ t show it to you because it contains information only I can know about? Because that stuff in Mexico is best left across the border. So you say goodbye to your friend, tell them not to worry, knowing they will. You look at the letter, at your writing, and you wonder where the three men are now, and you wish whoever had written this damn thing in your hand had been just a little more helpful. But you know there must be a reason for all this, there must be a reason why there is so little instruction. You have the green box. You have your provisions. You have a name. And it ’ s possible that three men are chasing after you. It ’ s a leap of logic, you know, but why else head to the roof. And while you ’ re think all of this, while you ’ re eyes are searching for a way to get away, your phone beeps in your pocket. It ’ s a message from that guy. There is a single question: ‘ Is this about Professor Tchaikonov? ’ You ’ re wondering how this guy knows about Professor Tchaikonov when you hadn ’ t even mentioned his name. Your hair is standing up on its end. You thought that only happened in books. ‘ Yes ’ you type. ‘ Come to Barcelona", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0088", "text": "`` Ah, so, you mean.... Like, your own, not...'' `` Not another person's son. Yes. I wanted my own son.'' The lady seemed quite angry standing there with a 7-year-old boy by her side. `` It is just that you said `` a son'', you did not really specify...'' I tried to get out of this as situations like these are the exact reasons people distrust genies. `` Yes! Because I was talking about a son that was not born yet!'' The lady was practically screaming as of now. `` Hey, look on the bright side. This one's already done. It's a good son, lady. You do n't need to be pregnant or anything. Here you go - one good `` a'' son.'' I smiled. Really, all this with no added cost. `` I can not send him back to his parents! He does n't even speak English...'' `` See? You just learn him to say `` momma'' and it will be a magical moment.'' I cheered. `` God damn you, take this poor child back to his parents! He has been crying for 3 days now!'' she shoved the child forward and demanded I take action. `` Uhhh, no ca n't do.'' I already knew what will follow... `` Why not?'' She inquired just as expected. `` Well he does n't exactly have parents as of now,'' I said, suddenly getting all defensive. `` Well not everyone on this world is an uncaring bastard that pushes her son away. Some parents really care for their children! You know, some good people have died for you to get this wish. Be more thankful.'' I hoped that this will be my last attack and she will step down. `` Have... Died?'' she repeated with a slight hint of disbelief. `` Well, DUH!'' I mimicked her facial expression. `` Why else do you think the kid has been crying for 3 days? Anyhow, I warned you that having a child is not like having a puppy. Big, big responsibility. Anyhow, I must be going now. Bye Linda, bye Tsingtao.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 445, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0089", "text": "SLAM! The ringing steel doors echoed through the the hangar as Major Harvey Johnson marched smartly across the empty space. The cyber Intel team had been taken by surprise, as no inspection was scheduled for today. They all stood nervously as attention. A man with more stripes on his arms than the rest moved to intercept the major. `` Major Johnson, sir!'' He saluted with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. `` Sergeant Taylor, is it? Well, sergeant...'' The major paused as he surveyed the cyber warfare unit standing at attention around their stations. `` Put your men at ease.'' `` Platoon, Parade REST!'' Taylor turned back around to address Major Johnson. `` Sir, I don't believe we were notified of an inspection today. What can I do for you?'' Johnson moved in close to Taylor's face; so close, in fact, that the sergeant could feel the brim of Johnson's cover touching his forehead. `` Sergeant, you have a mole. I am here to coordinate the shut down of your entire unit and erase the servers stored here. Your team has 2 hours to comply.'' `` With all due respect, sir, 2 hours doesn't even give me enough time to verify these orders from SECDEF. If you will allow me to do my due diligence, I can have this unit RFT by end of business today.'' The sergeant steeled his gaze on the major, willing him to back down. Suddenly, the major took a step back, and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed a number, and handed the phone to Taylor. `` It's for you.'' Taylor raised the phone to his ear. `` Master Sergeant Taylor, this is Secretary Jass. I need your unit shut down by the end of the day. Everything erased. Nothing, and I mean nothing left. Because of the possibility of a mole, you must personally inspect each of your airmen for any information they may be attempting to steal. Can you get this done, or do I need to send Security forces in?'' `` Uhh... Yes sir. Right away, sir.'' Sergeant Taylor handed the phone back to the major. `` I'll get started immediately.'' Returning to his desk, he noticed an email that had been distributed to the entire unit, Cyber7 eyes only. He opened the attachment and immediately regretted doing so. The file was a gay porn image, with a caption added to describe it", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0090", "text": "-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- My heart sank. It felt like I all of my blood fell to my toes and refused to travel back up my legs. My hand covered my mouth, I thought about if there was any sign of this. Jenny had been dealing with her bi-polar disorder for years, it had just flared up a bit in the last few months after the winter. But to commit suicide and leave us? Or moreover to take me with her? She must know she'd never be able to convince me to end my life. I heard a single soft footstep on the hardwood but it was too late. The adrenaline of surprise masked the pain of a needle being shoved into the small of my back. `` Honey I'm home'' she said. My eyes widened but I watched only the sunlit ceiling have black spread onto it like a furious disease, until it was all black. I woke up to the noise of a running car, but it was still dark. I only had the power to fill my lungs and empty them, I fought ferociously to move but couldn't even twitch a muscle. It was so dark, even with my eyes shut there was not the violet tones of my eyelids lit by the bright sun. Finally my left eye had a spasm and opened. `` You're finally up'' she said stoic and staring straight ahead through the windshield at the gardening tools and mountain bikes on the wall of the garage. The smell of exhaust was putrid, worse than any proximity to any city bus. `` I know about Lisa'' she said. `` All of those late nights and bullshit business trips.'' `` I cried myself to sleep so many nights, until I got even with your brother.'' Even in this horrifying paralysis I felt a shudder. She had slept with my brother? More importantly my brother had slept with Jenny? What about his wife? I had so many questions and no time and no way to get answers. Lisa, of course she thought I was having an affair. Why didn't I think of what it would look like? Or even that she might call work and ask if I was really in D.C.? Lisa was my dance teacher. Jenny had been a ballroom dancer almost her whole life up until we had Zack. I was taking lessons in secret to surprise her for our anniversary. The ``", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0091", "text": "Cid, it's very droll but I'm Cid the original. Cid in fact, of this universe. Which none of you in fact are. of this universe that is. I'm really really sorry about that but uh, apparently, there are side effects that we weren't really ready for, and after the first dozen of....us, uh, we, just kept coming and coming. We didn't even have a place to store and categorize all of you until a few hours ago. Sorry about the rooms by the way, it was all we had until we could sort this whole mess out. Hm. Speaking of which, I guess I should tell you all, me? Us. I should tell all of us that this is, technically, and I can not stress this enough, ACCIDENTALLY, my fault. Ish. Sort of. Look I'm just saying no one could have seen this. Like no one could have predicted this would happen. We just turned it on for a few minutes and then you, I, we started just streaming through like it was a house party. And then we couldn't turn it off and on again because it wouldn't turn off and we don't know why it's still on except we can't turn it off. You see, one of us, across multiple dimensions, mine in fact, the one you're all... we're all in now was a scientist at CERN. Me in fact. Working on the ol' LHC. That's the the Large Hadron Collider. It uh, broke the dimensional barrier. But I'm sure I can fix it. We've called Brian Cox already and he said to turn it off and on again like we haven't already tried that, the sellout. Just wait and don't do anything rash or....erotic which I notice some of you..me..us... ew. Just ew. Just keep your pants on guys. And gals I guess. I guess I'm only single in THIS dimension then. Brilliant.'' There was the brief thud of a mic being put on a table and a distant, `` Shit, I turned the speaker off, is still playing?'' And then there was the whine of a fading tannoy system.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 461, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0092", "text": "The two mice threw long shadows as the light from the rocket's base cleared away the last dimness of morning. Each sat upright, as mammals are want to do, with their tails curled together in the manner of lovers, on the bleachers where so many humans had long before watched their astronauts travel into space. It had rusted, crawling with vines and tiny wild flowers, but still stood. `` Is this the sixtieth launch? Or the sixty-first?'' asked Mirsk. `` Sixty-first.'' said Heefl. `` Unless we count the ship that came down from orbit to collect those starving refugees in Tampa.'' He uncurled his tail to flick it in the air, knocking at a fly that buzzed around the pair. It spun off on an air current to bother someone else, no worse for the love tap. `` But what does it matter? According to the grand master, they've all left. That was the last one.'' `` What do we know of her? This Last Woman?'' asked Mirsk. She tilted her head to the side, only to suddenly curl up, frantically chewing at a spot on her belly. If Heefl did not lash out with his tail, she would have tumbled from their perched and into the tall weeds. `` She was the daughter of a politician.'' Heefl offered. `` And was a farmer for the longest time. The last to hold out, trying to carve something from the ground. In her time here, she slaughtered many goats and sheep, but had done no harm to our people. We carry her no ill will. We should only be so lucky if she teaches the others up there, in the heavens, her way of living with the Earth. Not that it matters, as none will do so again.'' Mirsk nudged Heefl, grooming his fur until she caught a flea. She crushed it between her teeth. `` But will they really never return?'' `` According to the grand master, they can not. The air is too deadly for them. Those that stand too high choke on it and die. The grand master has said that there are places on this world where it is poison even at the ground. That none but those who burrow deep can survive there, for the air is fire in a thunderstorm, and acid in the dry times. It is not fit for them any longer.'' Heefl directed his beady black eyes upward to", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0093", "text": "all he had left to bring up was bile. His whole body was aching and exhausted, his limbs heavy and his muscles screaming. He wished he could sleep, but there was no way he'd manage it through the pain and nausea of treatment. Even morphine no longer did much more than take the edge off the pain. He wanted to rip the PICC line out of his arm - it made him feel physically sick just to see the carefully titrated dose of chemotherapy dripping through into his vein - but instead, he just collapsed back onto the scratchy hospital pillow, moaning quietly through clenched teeth. The treatment was relentless. His cancer was too aggressive to leave alone for long, but at the same time, the constantly-shifting clones of cancer cells had become all that was keeping him alive, somehow regulating themselves just enough to perform normal cell functions. If it wasn't the chemotherapy and radiotherapy exhausting him, it was the cancer itself - the constant, energy-sapping growth of cells that took up all his reserves. The only thing that kept him going was Isabel; even now, she was sitting beside his bed, her fingers loosely intertwined with his. He gripped her hand more tightly in his sweaty fingers. His eyes were half shut, but he could just see her blurred outline past his eyelids. She was wearing her glasses and a pair of old tracksuit bottoms, her hair tangled from when she'd briefly fallen asleep in her chair. She was the most beautiful thing he'd seen in his life. `` Isabel?'' His voice was a little croaky. `` Hmm?'' He hadn't meant to ask the question this way - he'd pictured a grandiose gesture somewhere romantic, with her in a 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0094", "text": "He stood there, looking as his own grave. Fog hung low in the air, the visceral substance forming an eerie wall around the lonely cemetery. The dirt caked on his boots seemed to weigh him down, anchoring the dejected man to his spot. Even if he wanted to run, he would be tethered here by obligation. `` Do it, Francis.'' A voice sounded somewhere behind the troubled man, but he didn't turn around to acknowledge it. Yet for some reason, it continued to speak. `` You know why you're here. We all know why.'' The man could hear footsteps behind him, yet he still didn't turn. `` You *killed* her, Francis. It's all your fault.'' `` No.'' The man uttered the word feebly at first, unsure of its validity. He said it again, this time more firmly. `` NO.'' Turning around, Francis confronted his accusers. The gaunt face of a woman stared hard at him; behind her stood myriad cloaked individuals, their faces hidden from view. `` Jessica is dead and it's all your fault, Francis.'' `` It wasn't my fault. You're wrong.'' `` It was. You simply can't admit it. You can never take responsibility.'' `` Shut UP! You have no idea what you're talking about-'' `` I know *exactly* what I'm talking about!'' The woman began to move in closer to Francis, her tone becoming more and more menacing. `` The whole town knows what you've done! *She* knows what you've done!'' The woman pointed past Francis at the grave he had been pensively considering prior. The man turned, wide-eyed in horror. A small child, a girl, was climbing out of the grave, eyes sunken, skin pale. Her matted hair obscured her features, but Francis knew exactly who she was. He wanted with all his being to scream, to run, to move from the spot where he currently stood. But he couldn't. He was anchored in place. `` NO.'' The only word that the man could say began to sound like a confirmation. `` No, no, no, no NO!'' The child grabbed Francis by his shirt, ripping the man forward, shattering his unseen tether. She pulled him to the edge of the grave, just enough for him to lose his balance. The man toppled over the edge, crashing down to", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0095", "text": "( First time WP, I read the FAQ and would like some criticism on this ) You know, being a king/god/deity really sucks sometimes I never asked for this, but here I am, helping a women cure her own self inflicted injury, why I will never know. She bows down immediately, gets up and runs off, like she did n't just leave a gallon of her own blood right there. This seems familiar... I am not a god, I am a intern who decided to mess with time. Back in my time I was always the `` loser'', always using hand me downs, never spending the credits for a pleasure booth, or even using the memory machines to cut away the bad things. To me, that was hell, there was a man who wrote about this.... the title escapes me, but it had to do something with temperature and a random number How I came here I will never know, but why I came here is something no one would care ab-.... It happened again, someone stabbed themselves and tries to pass it off as an accident. The knife, hanging at an awkward angle on his leg, moving as he limps towards me, leaving a trail of blood. Of course I use my Cell-Accelerator ( stupid name, but its my invention ) which heals it in seconds and he does the same as the women before, even down the same street, have I moved from this spot at all? A flash of light, and suddenly I'm back I never asked for this, but here I am, helping a women cure her own self inflicted injury, why I will never know. She bows down immediately, gets up and runs off, like she did n't just leave a gallon of her own blood right there. This seems familiar... *A figure watches the screen as the kid repeats the same couple actions over and over again. Heal a women, think about how much it sucks and heal a man and repeat all over again. He smirks as he remembers a quote from a bygone age, `` Hell to me is not suffering and anguish, it is being stuck in the same place over and over again doing the same thing and not being able to do anything about it'' * *He laughs quietly to himself, a place for criminals to repent all their actions, over and over and over again* ( Inspired by Stephen King )", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 481, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0096", "text": "Of the many tales one will hear of the great battles of the Western Front, doted upon by the Parisians of old, those men who would get drunk on the grape of the vine, none stands as foreboding as the tale of Strong Booted Archie of Lincolnshire. It was Premiere Alistair who had begged Archie to come to the side of the French and fight saying to him, `` Was it not I who insisted upon offering you gifts of the best land Champagne has to offer, or bringing you the women of Spain for whom the invading Germans are most willing to take hold of?'' He said all of this through his messanger and wisest of council, Otto, son of Leo. Archie, whom all the Allies adored and looked to, spoke saying this, `` Otto, you are a good man and admired greatly among the French and I would be honored to carry your rifle. But Alistair has dishonored me by taking back my lovely Brittany. She was finest of my spoiles. My captured Leichter Kampfwagen! My beautiful chariot with an attached fifty-seven millimeter Maxim-Nordenfelt that I was to ride into battle with. He has dishonored me and taken this from me! I will not battle this day, and it will be given over to the Germans for his arrogance!'' It was at these words Otto, who was good with the artillery, returned to Premiere Alistair saying these things. And Alistair, bon cri de guerre, faced no alternative but to march his forces against the great Von Hectenstein. Archie knew of the great danger faced by the French and did nothing. His friend and companion Peter, son of Martin, knew this also and turned to Archie saying, `` My friend we have fought together against these damned Germans for too many years. If you will not take to the trenches and fight, then let me get in your armored Rolls-Royce and lead a battalion to fight. Otherwise Von Hectenstein will win this battle and quite possibly the war. Then where do you think the Axis will push to next? They will land their Eulers and their Godeckers and will force themselves upon our own land of the crown! And what will happen to our own dear Lincolnshire? It will be burned to the ground and our women and children left to speak German! I can't have that. Let me drive your Rolls-Royce into battle and let", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0097", "text": "instant. The old woman fell down, and so did the man. I went to help the man up. `` So kind of you,'' he said, and there was something not quite right about the way he spoke. The voice was right, but not the way it was being used. The old woman screamed. `` What did you do?'' she screamed, looking at her hands, eyes wide and white. `` What did you do!?!'' `` You tried to kill him!'' shouted the man from the front row, darting forward and slapping the woman across the face. She shrieked and shrunk away from the blow. `` Now, now,'' said the other man as I helped him to his feet. `` Don't be so cruel. Like she said, death is coming for her. And I suspect it will be here soon.'' Again, the *way* the man spoke caused a chill to go down my spine. He seemed like forgery of a man. The more I looked at him the more the irregularities shown through. `` You're her,'' I said. `` You're the old woman.'' `` I can do terrible things,'' the man said, speaking lowly, denying nothing, not looking me in the eye. `` Terrible, terrible things. Consider your next move wisely.'' I could not answer, because just then there was another presence in the church. It could not be seen, but all of us were immediately aware of it. The old woman, or more precisely *her shell*, was lifted off the floor. *finally i have found you once more* `` No!'' she screamed. `` Not me! It's that one! She stole my body!'' There was a moment of quiet. *is this true* The man from the front row shook his head. `` I don't know what she's talking about.'' The golem shook his head. `` She's the one you're looking for. She told us not minutes ago that she was being hunted by you.'' There was silence. It was my turn. The truth. A lie. Those concepts are meaningless in the Network. `` She's the one,'' I said, pointing at the old woman hovering just above the floor. `` Take her.'' The old woman's eyes flared, then dulled, then closed. The body floated gently down to the ground. The presence disappeared. `` What the fuck was that!?!'' said the", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0098", "text": "was shitty anyway, I just wanted to get home. A customer called and asked where their order was, I had forgotten to place it the day before and got in deep shit with their sales rep. Basically a day from hell. *alright, passing sunshine street and i'll be home in 25 if there's no traffic jams. * The long road I was on was dimly lit by street lamps. It curved back and forth over and over. No discernible landmarks or streets. A straight shot til my next turn. The bypass is on the west part of town, so it's next to a bunch of farmland. It was an easy drive. Not difficult to let your mind wander. I turned on the radio and let the road take me home. *good god i am hungry. * I texted my boyfriend to let him know to preheat the oven and I was on my way. *nice, sunshine street. i should be home in no time* Wait. I already passed sunshine. I was way passed sunshine. If I hadn't clearly seen the sign on the stoplight as I passed it that said Sunshine street, I wouldn't be concerned. *what the fuck is happening* The road started to bend. Just like it did after passing sunshine. That familiar back and forth suddenly sent an eerie chill through my body. *this isn't right* It was already past dark. The faint streetlights seemed to mock me as I sat up in my carseat and leaned forward, pressing on the gas just a bit more. *maybe i'm just confused. i hardly ever take this way home, i'm just not familiar with the route* I looked around. In my rearview there was one car in the distance following me. `` Sunshine Street'' had disappeared. Around each bend the car got further behind me until I couldn't see him anymore. *alone* I felt a deep sense of dread. Of loneliness. Isolation. It was cold outside. Cold and dark. The road never seemed to stop. I looked at the clock. 5:57pm. Time had gone too quickly, I should have been home by now. I hadn't gotten a text from my boyfriend yet. *what is going on? * The stress of the day crescendo'd into a panic, and then diminished as I saw a stoplight far ahead. *finally* Whatever anxiety I had about the situation broke, and I", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0099", "text": "before picking up a set of goggles without straps or lens. As soon as the Kappa set the visual system on his face, the goggles adhered and mini projections of the ships schematics and tactical read began to pop in and out at different depths in his vision. The novaswine had learned to filter most of this out and his eyes only twitch when something truly worth his notice caught his attention. His apprentice's look had one of bewilderment. His pupils nearly matched his heart rate while they loosened and tightened as the noveape tried in vain to take in everything. This was another problem with the Learners sims. They never dream big enough. This novice has never seen this much chatter. I bet this ape is trying to keep his eye on intake drafts and micro-fracture potentials. Being taught to take in everything was useless. Only take what you need from it. `` XI, turn off open channels, link only directly to Fury commands and localized parameter 17. Don't take it all in, you'll blind yourself. Focus on what matters to you and the objectives. Contact Lambdas Ban and Reytaw and send them our greeting. Its our pack on their backs when things get toothy, alright? I'm going to need fire points as soon as we flash.'' `` I can understand. Setting speculations now. Open feed off....THEIR HANDS that is better. Much better. Thank you, Kappa.'' Comprehension took hold. `` And it wouldn't hurt anybody to turn your schematic readings down to alert status. Shes an old boat, but it means she knows what shes doing. I'm a little offended actually.'' The Pork joked. This little relief before the portal was something the young Xi needed. This was his first taste, his chance to get some scars. There wouldn't be time for him to learn. Only do. `` Hail Them, HAIL THEM! for I have JOR HAMMER as my guardian man! This is Lambda Reytaw and may I just say it is an honor, Kappa, an honor to be paired with you again, and on this mission of all. Flash parameters 17 up, my units are ready to roll, all that is needed is a door.'' `` Kappa Jor, this is Ban. How that stenchpile holding up?'' Jor snorted his angered approval. `` Better than that pristine palace, you trait", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0100", "text": "house, and before I knew it, I had tumbled over my aunt's leather couch. I was in the living room. I started to retch. I crawled on all fours into the kitchen. I leaned against the fridge, breathing hard, my stomach dropping painfully. Minutes passed. I started to think it was possible that no one heard me. But I couldn't walk back outside. I could barely breathe, and more than anything I longed to shut everything, including reason, out of my unyielding head. I turned and stared blankly, without seeing, the platters of food set out for all of the incoming family guests on the kitchen table and counter. Suddenly I spotted something that made me have a physical reaction. I reached towards the counter and grabbed the thick glass bottle of bourbon. My eyes, now filled with confused tears, focused on the label. It read *Costume Contest Winner, from Aunt Steph! * I could barely feel anything as my hands struggled to twist open the bottle. I lifted my head to drink, and the rest, I don't remember. When I opened my eyes, a splitting headache was there to greet my senses. I was in darkness, nestled in a bed that I immediately recognized was in a bedroom in Aunt Stephanie's house. I scrambled to get my body up, out of the room, out of the house, away, but my legs were slow to cooperate. A light flicked on, and my forehead instantly started to throb. `` Hey'', said a soft voice. It was my Aunt Stephanie. I squinted at her and barely managed to nod silently. She smiled, and then she laughed. `` You -- u lush! Don't worry, I won't tell your mother.'' `` I --'' I stammered. I wasn't sure what to say. I decided to avoid most subjects I would have brought up. But my aunt was still chattering. `` You silly goose, I think you got the time wrong for the party. You were a couple of hours *early* for our party. The family was still setting up.'' She paused, and gave me a nudge. She whispered, `` You know, part of me thinks that you came by early on purpose just to get a head start on the booze. I know how you college kids are.'' She winked and continued. `` Your uncle and cousins were hanging out in the yard, and we did", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0101", "text": "Life on the reservation was miserable. Poverty, crime and corruption ran rampant, and day-to-day life was much harder than it should be. Growing up, Steven learned about the White Man, who had come under the guise of peace and slaughtered his people, stole their land and herded them into these godforsaken hovels. Steven swore he would help his people. He spurned the guidance of his elders and their suggestion that he become an attorney or a civic leader, or an activist. Instead, Steven gravitated toward the myths and Gods of his ancestors, praying every day for a way to restore glory to the Cherokee nation. As Steven got older, he had *visions. * In one, an eagle carried him across the ocean, dropping him in a faraway land where his people dwelled, hunting and living off the land. There were no cars, no smog, no white man. In another vision, a huge grey wolf carried him through the forest and into a reservation, but here there were only white men, and they lived as he did, stumbling through the life he had always known. The Gods had been good to him. They had given him a name, Spirit Traveler, and they gave him purpose; he knew what he must do, but how? One day, as Steven was sitting in the smoke hut, meditating on his myths and gods, he had his most vivid vision. He stood facing the fire, the wolf and the eagle across from him on either side. The wolf growled and snarled, baring his fangs. The eagle spread his wings wide, raising his beak to the sky. A powerful voice resonated in his head. `` CHOOSE,'' it told him, `` Spirit Traveler, you must make your choice between the fearsome wolf or the powerful eagle.'' Spirit Traveler felt a deep hollowness in his chest, a great fear of the beasts before him. As he cowered back, the wolf spoke in a low rumble: `` You do not have to fear me.'' The eagle replied in a piercing shriek `` You do not have to fear anything!'' He clenched his fists. What path should he take? He stepped forward, swallowing the lump in his throat. He reached out and made his choice. The feast was underway when he opened his eyes. He saw the long tables, his proud, lithe ancestors sitting across from the pudgy white men", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0102", "text": "Marcus paced back and forth in front of the TV suddenly very uncertain of himself. He started thinking back through his latest cipher; Had he placed all the clues right, for even an idiot to be able to understand? Would the cops get the message and better still would they say something on TV? He walked over each piece in his head, the placement, the meaning, angles, fingerprints, spatters, voids, everything his superb memory could envision and it was all perfect. Of course, he'd thought that the last four times he'd done this and look how that turned out. There was the murder of that mouthy drug dealer on 2nd street. It was supposed to be his grand debut to the world. But forensics had screwed it up somehow and interpreted it all as a drug deal gone wrong. Then they misinterpreted the signs to point to some hat shop downtown that ended up being a front for some cartel. They seized tons of coke, heroin, meth, and pot not to mention an FBI top wanted member of the gang and some piles of cash that would help nicely with the policeman's ball, pension fund, body cams or whatever they'd waste it on. Then there was number two. Oh he'd been so careful that time. He felt maybe he'd let his genius take over a little too much the first time, so he dumbed down the next set of clues. He was sure THIS would be his debut. He'd hung a hedge fund embezzler who people had been looking for for years. It was simple, straight forward, and would clearly show his ruthlessness and cunning. Instead somehow it led the police to claim it was a suicide and the clues left behind led them to all the missing money. The only problem was he was absolutely certain that the money had all been spent. In fact, the embezzler had secreted back into the country to start some new scheme because he was broke. It just didn't make any sense. Marcus was furious after that. Still he waited the requisite number of days before choosing his next victim. He had to stick to the process. Instead of picking a random criminal this time he decided to go for something wicked, an innocent, a father, a pastor even. He picked a father of four, pastor of a local Baptist church, a man who ran a downtown soup kitchen and was beloved by his small community congregation. Marcus hung him from the ceiling of the church, swung", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0103", "text": "Cindy used her powers to light a branch on fire. She was always careless like that when I was around. “ Heal it, ” she said holding her arm out to me. It was a small burn and for me it would be smaller, but I still hated doing it. “ Come on, I had to create some light for us. I ca n't see anything. What if I fell and really injured myself. Then you'd have to decide how far you're really willing to test your powers. ” I sighed. She was right about needing a light. The forest was dark and we'd both almost tripped a couple of times. “ Fine, ” I said. I gently grabbed her outstretched arm. I rarely used my powers, so it always took me a moment of concentration to remember the way to channel the healing. In a moment her burn disappeared and a smaller mark appeared on my arm. It stung for a few minutes, but it dulled quickly. “ Where are you taking me anyway? ” “ I found something, ” she said. “ I'm not sure what it is exactly, but I thought you should see it. I think it might help us find others like us. ” “ Why, ” I started then stopped when Cindy turned around suddenly. “ Because, I'm tired of not being able to talk to anyone about our powers. There must be societies or secret schools or something for people like us. ” “ We're not the X-Men, Cindy. This is real life. Anyway, I like it being just you and me. ” Cindy rolled her eyes and then turned back around. Then she screamed and disappeared into the ground. “ Cindy, ” I yelled. I dropped to my knees and looked down into the hole that opened up in the ground. Cindy was laying at the bottom of it in an unnatural position. I look around, this had to be some kind of trap. I could hear Cindy whimper at the bottom of the hole. I tied a rope to a near by tree and began to lower myself down to her. I'd never healed anything major before. I was n't sure what I would do when I got to the bottom.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 447, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0104", "text": "another sitting in the front row. The man at the altar was pacing. `` Good. One more and I'm out of here. They only need three and this place is creeping me out.'' The doors opened once more and an old woman let herself in. `` Oh! Three exactly! Wonderful. Thank you for coming.'' The man at the altar sighed audibly. `` You kill your husband or something?'' asked the man in the front row. `` Cheating the law, maybe?'' `` No, no,'' said the old woman. `` Something different. I'm interested in cheating death.'' `` So you're...'' I shook my head. `` I guess I'm gon na need to wait for you to explain that one.'' `` Oh, it's not much of a story,'' said the old woman, walking purposefully towards the altar. `` I don't want to die. Not yet. Not for some time. And yet death is always chasing me. It chases all of us. It's nearly caught up to me, you see.'' `` Are you sick?'' said the man in the front row. `` I know some good doctors. Plenty of favors to cash in. Would that help?'' `` No, I'm not sick,'' said the old woman. `` I've just run out of time. You can't hide from death forever, understand? But... but if you're clever enough, you *can* trick him...'' With a quickness that is unsettling to see in someone so stooped and withered, the old woman grabbed the man at the altar by the throat. He cried out, slapping at her weakly. I dashed forward, but it was over in an instant. The old woman fell down, and so did the man. I went to help the man up. `` So kind of you,'' he said, and there was something not quite right about the way he spoke. The voice was right, but not the way it was being used. The old woman screamed. `` What did you do?'' she screamed, looking at her hands, eyes wide and white. `` What did you do!?!'' `` You tried to kill him!'' shouted the man from the front row, darting forward and slapping the woman across the face. She shrieked and shrunk away from the blow. `` Now, now,'' said the other man as I helped him to his feet. `` Do", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0105", "text": "up under. The cold breath was gone. It's absence felt unnatural. He panicked. Shuddering, he grabbed the table for support while taking a step back, pushing his foot deep into the spoon. Claude yelped. The room thundered again. His mother rushed for the stairs to see what the matter was. Claude didn't have to hear it. He could feel her feet pounding down steps. Awareness branched from him randomly, nerves and nothing stretching where material tugged on him. Where everything called to Claude. The world felt more certain, as though it was waiting for Claude to pay attention. Then it roared. His mother lifted the prostrate boy's body, shaking him by the shoulders. When he snapped awake, the burden burst from his mouth; *'' Where the hell are we? `` * The question startled her. `` What do you mean?'' she asked. Claude's head lulled forward mumbling. It thrust back to her face, screaming. `` *This wasn't real?? *'' He could barely hear himself. The roar was a barrage. A gust that would blow him away. Hands clasped to his ears, he howled. When his mind came together, he found himself being dragged to a police station. Apparently, he was being arrested. Some time passed, he was sure, but Claude didn't bother asking how much. It didn't matter for reasons beyond what he could explain. Time just felt pointless. Claude lifted his head to the warden once more. *Explaining any of this is, pointless. * A dizzy spell took him briefly, forcing a hand to catch himself on the mattress. In a thud, the world echoed again, then roared in his head. `` Quit that racket,'' a tired warden called out. The word hung on a thin string in his mind. *Racket. * He grabbed it, and pulled for the life of him. Anything to make it quiet. A body flung itself towards his cell and smashed into the bars by the door. Clattering keys dangled blatantly from the unconscious figure's waist. When Claude got up and grasped them in his hand, he made for the door. Claude paused, and looked around his cell. He noticed nothing special. There were still metal bars. The mattress remained elevated against the wall. The disposal unit still sat in the corner. It was average as prisons go. He dropped the keys,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0106", "text": "With a rapid turn of the hips and a planting of the foot, the ball carrier was taken to the ground with a mighty thump by an incoming rampage of pads and shoulders. `` DAMN IT! Short of the first!!!'' And with that outburst of anger, He turned off the Playstation ending his game of Madden. It was only a video game, one he loved at that, but it aroused anger in him like no other when things didn't go his way. He played games to get away. What he was getting away from he hadn't an idea. He didn't live a particularly difficult life or an exceptionally eventful life. He was a perennial B student. He had a fast food job and made decent money for a 20 year old. Running a hand through messy black hair, He took out his copy of Madden and put in a copy of Mass Effect 2. With this change, he took the role of a valiant commando, someone who feared nothing and exemplified leadership. For the next two hours, he stormed remote alien worlds moving steps closer to saving the galaxy. This session came to an end and off he was to work. This cycle continued as he jumped from work to school to games. The months went by as he took the roles of soldiers, warriors, and sports stars. He wasn't exactly a video game addict but lately the hours had been creeping up on him. He kept his grades up and kept his life in order so it wasn't a problem, He thought. In His games He found redemption and validation. The real world was boring and unrewarding. Each morning began the same way with small interludes in between of the occasional party or date but nothing exceptionally noteworthy. Upon return from a tea date with a perky blonde girl, the first thing he did was turn on the Playstation. An hour later, he had saved the world from the return of dragons and certain destruction. Now that was something. Not small talk in a smoky cafe. He had made a difference. Not that the virtual folk could appreciate it but he liked to thin this way. It helped with the immersion. Four hours had passed as he explored uncharted deserts fighting off bandits when he felt the urge to call off work. He did and spent the rest of the day chasing Arabian treasure and gunning down baddies. This trend continued as he began to shirk his homework and polish up his Smash", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0107", "text": "`` If you do n't drop your weapons, I'll kill you all in an instant,'' I said, making my voice shake a little for effect. The more outrageous the claim, the better. `` Bullshit, it's twenty to one!'' The man I was pointing my gun at called. `` You know, for a leader of a drug ring, you're really not that smart'' I replied. I dropped my gun, and as his eyes followed it, I flicked my hand in his direction. A shard of metal flew across the room, piercing his throat, sending a delicious wave of red spilling out. `` Who's next?'' I called out, waving my hand at the next man, as his eyeball exploded with a *pop! * as the metal passed through it. I swept my hand across the room, sending a wave of metal at the men, who by now were turning to run. I sent another wave and another, until they all dropped. They call me the Bluffer. I can make up the most outrageous lies possible, and as long as someone calls me on them, they become fact. Sometimes, like in the scene above, I leave room open for interpretation, and the results are always interesting. Sometimes it's easier to make claims so specific that there's no way someone wo n't call me on them, like last week, the mafia man who broke into my apartment and held me at gunpoint, I told him an asteroid was going to crush him in a minute if he did n't leave. He smirked and asked my if my lying ass wanted to die. Those were, ironically, his last words. Being a hero is n't always easy. Luckily, I do n't always have to be one. My name is the Bluffer, and this is my story...", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 372, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0108", "text": "Sublieutenant G'rakh sighed as he watched the flickering screen. *Eight years at the Academy just to be stuck at this lousy post*, he thought to himself. G'rakh was one of three officers assigned to the scanning station aboard the starship *Lek'vah*. Hours were long and uneventful, especially in this dead region of space. He looked up as someone walked in the room. It was Lieutenant Salak'kor, his immediate superior. `` Nothing to report here, sir'' he said, as Salak'kor lowered himself into the seat beside him. `` Well, I didn't really expect there to be much'' replied Salak'kor. `` There hasn't been any life in this system for thousands of *vrakh*.'' G'rakh called up a review of the system on his screen. He leaned forward and skimmed through the article. `` Simple planetary system orbiting an F-class star. Of the eight planets only one, the third planet in, was believed capable of sustaining life. However, we can only speculate as the planet was destroyed some 6,000 *vrakh* ago.'' G'rakh looked back at the scanner screen. Where there should have been a planet instead was an immense debris field. Most of the fragments were small, about the size of an escape pod, but some were very large, several times larger than the *Lek'vah* herself. One or two of the chunks were large enough that he could even see the curvature of the planet. `` That doesn't look like it happened naturally.'' he said. `` That's right'' said Salak'kor. `` I studied this system when I was at the Academy for my xenoarchaeology course. I had a theory that there was once an intelligent species on that planet, but it destroyed itself before discovering interplanetary flight.'' G'rakh imagined his own world being splintered into a million pieces, its atmosphere venting off into space. He shuddered. `` Is that why we've come all this way?'' he asked. `` So you can search for signs of an ancient civilization and figure out what happened to them?'' There was a snort from the seat beside him. `` No, even I don't have that much pull with the captain. We're here to conduct some light-drive tests. Hell, I wasn't even *that* interested in", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0109", "text": ". 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. `` I don't know...'' `` Okay, look at this one.'' She flipped forwards to a slightly later photo, soon after Matthew had begun chemotherapy. She held it up next to his face. `` I genuinely can't tell the difference.'' Matthew pushed her arm down, laughing. `` And that's why I love you,'' he said, kissing her on the cheek. But as he glanced at the six-year-old photograph, there was a flutter of unease in his stomach. ***** *4th November 2022* The papers were all calling him the immortal cancer patient.'The turnover of cells is so rapid that whatever harms them ( be it cancer treatments, illness or injury ), a new generation of cells will soon have grown to replace them.' Immortality, agelessness, eternal youth... they were all terms that had been thrown about. It didn't feel like it at the moment. Nausea rose in Matthew's throat, and he retched again, but he all he had left to bring up was bile. His whole body was aching and exhausted, his limbs heavy and his muscles screaming. He wished he could sleep, but there was no way he'd manage it through the pain and nausea of treatment. Even morphine no longer did much more than take the edge off the pain. He wanted to rip the PICC line out of his arm - it made him feel physically sick just to see the carefully titrated dose of chemotherapy dripping through into his vein - but instead, he just collapsed back onto the scratchy hospital pillow, moaning quietly through clenched teeth. The treatment was relentless. His cancer was too aggressive to leave alone for long, but at the same time, the constantly-shifting clones", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0110", "text": ". The first thug rounded the corner at a run, and took the full force of her nettle to the face. He went down screaming, clawing at his cheeks and eyes. The second man was faster, jumping back to dodge her wild swing. He shouted a warning to his remaining comrade, and they slowed to give wide berth to their now-cornered quarry. Eyeing their fallen friend, the two men began to edge apart. They ’ d come at her from different directions if they could. Force her to turn and face one, exposing her back to the other. Laurel examined her opponents. The biggest wore a suit of stonewood plates. It ’ d be nearly impossible to get him with the nettle. And besides, the massive club he carried looked like it was made for crushing skulls. The second man -- the one who ’ d dodged her backswing -- wore only a short sleeved cotton tunic. But in his hands he held two wicked thorn stilettos. He was fast... maybe too fast. She wasn ’ t sure if she could take him without help. Luckily, she had some. Pulling a small amber orb from the pouch at her belt, Laurel dodged quickly to her right. Thorn Daggers took the bait, darting at her with a predatory grin. But as he approached, she crushed the delicate casing in her gloved hand, hurling the shards and powder it contained straight into the path of her attacker. Mangrove powder causes blisters on the skin, and temporary blindness if it touches the victim ’ s eyes. It ’ s difficult to land, of course, since most enemies can see it coming in time to cover their face. But in a fight, that ’ s just a deadly as the poison. When the man flung up his arms, Laurel moved in for the kill. Two hits to his exposed forearms and he dropped the thorns in agony. One more to the throat, and he was foaming on the ground. Laurel dropped her nettle stalk -- it was mostly bare now, its poisoned hairs embedded in the bodies on the floor -- and spun to face her last attacker. She was out of options, and he knew it. There was no way she could best him in his heavy stonewood plate, and no way to get by him and escape. Tensing for the final fight, she pressed her back against the wall. She could hear his quiet chuckling", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0111", "text": "Dear Diary, I know its been a while but please forgive me. Earlier today when walking home from school I had a strange, no, the strangest thing that has ever happened to me happened today and I am totally freaking out. I was crossing Squash Creek on the north bridge like I do everyday after class. But this time when I approached the on ramp I noticed a small wooden stool sitting in the path. it wasn't until I tried walking around it did I notice the..thing, I don't know what to call it a troll maybe? Yeah, a troll that makes sense. I met a troll today. At first I though it was some crude creation of some meth tweakers made of dead cats and fish but then this harry, scalie thing turned to me and gave me a grin. I was so taken back that I fell on my ass right there. If not for that I would have been out of there instantly, and the fact that this thing started to speak to me..'' Easy there young-en!'' it said in a disturbingly human voice `` Where be you off to in such a hurry''? Naturally I answered it. I spoke back to the `` troll'', I must have been in shock still. `` I was just trying to cross here, I do it almost every day''. It was silent for a moment after that then replied `` You see son, this is my bridge now''! `` And you cross it on my terms''. He stuck some sort of crooked cane in my face as I started to get up to my feet. `` You must answer my riddle'' he choked out with a laugh. This was the point where I was convinced I had gone absolutely bonkers. I literally pinched myself which only aided in his laughter. `` What time is it when an elephant sits on your fence''? he said in a slow majestic voice. How was I supposed to know that? It was probably some ancient proverb or great life lesson I had never heard of..I tried reasoning with the thing but it wouldn't have any. I had to answer it..otherwise I would have to walk four miles to the other crossing. Yeah right. I sat there for about twenty minutes watching it shoo flies away until I had settled on an answer. it never told me what would happen if I was wrong in my reply... I opened my mouth to speak `` What time is it when an elephant sits on your fence''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0112", "text": "They all laugh. They have always laughed, at least ever since my power was discovered. All the boys that could fly and have super strength, the ones with flexibility, telekinesis, and even invisibility. They all thought mine was pointless, and that I didn't deserve any power. I was still obsessed with researching superheroes and villains, dreaming of what I could've been. Who knew the one boy that wanted more than anyone else to save the day, to be the hero, would get the power to expand pasta. Yes, you're probably laughing at it now. As my school days went by, then my college years, and throughout most of my adulthood I watched as all my peers were the heroes. The ones that stopped the bad guys, like I always dreamed of. They laughed. At least, until May 25th, 2468. I was working early in the morning at my average job, drinking my average coffee, thinking about my average life. I had to work there, I wasn't a hero like all the others, I was a person. Nobody else was at the office, it was still dark outside. Suddenly, a tremendously large man burst through the office door, heaving as he brushed the splintered pieces of wood off of himself. I cowered, crouching under my desk, because I knew who that was. He was Hybrelly, one of the most wanted supervillain terrorists in the world. He was known for targeting civilians and public places, devouring all the food he could find, and next devouring the people. I had some time to get positioned quietly under my desk, and I moved my chair to hide me. I remembered from my research that he would first find the food, so I assumed he was in the break room, eating from our fridge. My lunch was the only one in there. Hybrelly moved around the office, looking for workers. It was only a matter of time before he found me. Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in my head, and I knew what had to be done. I stood up from my hiding spot. When Hybrelly turned to face me, with that sickening grin on his face, I looked him dead in the eyes. `` Don't *ever* eat my leftover spaghetti.'' His stomach started expanding, and the look of fear in his eyes told me to keep going. It was getting bigger and", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0113", "text": "It didn't make sense. In the dead of night, when the waters calmed from the great storm, I heard the lapping sound of a swimmer in the water coming towards me. The moon was peaking over the horizon shedding the caps of the waves with a white glow. It was indeed what I thought I was hearing. The object splashed against the whitecaps and made its way towards me. The last clouds from the storm flew across the sky, to reveal the stars and Milky Way. It was a beautiful sight as the object reached the edge of my boat. Part of me was curious who it may be, while a greater part of me was completely mortified. Its hand reached over like a wet towel being slung across the top of a lounge chair and a few seconds later a head popped up. `` Ey, ya, would you help up?'' said a young man's voice, the moonlight shining behind his head. I scrambled to grab his hand and pulled him into the boat. He was in nothing but a swimsuit and didn't look to be above the age of 25. `` Thanks,'' he said, finding a comfortable corner in the boat to lay in. `` Quite the storm, huh?'' `` Yeah,'' I said. `` I was almost out of food and water before the storm and then it hit. Now I'm completely out.'' He gave a little chuckle. `` I'm Rudy,'' the man said, giving a brisk wave of his hand. `` I'm sorry I didn't carry some food and water with me. I thought for sure I wouldn't be seeing anyone out here tonight.'' `` Rudy?'' I said. `` Ha, that's my favourite movie. You heard of it?'' `` Of course. Happens to be one of my favourites too,'' he said, sitting up. `` What were you doing out here, by the way?'' I asked. `` I didn't see any ships in the storm.'' `` Oh, I just happen to follow storms quite a bit. You could say I like to clean up the messes they leave behind.'' I noticed then how cold the night truly was. Wrapped around me was my Thermo blanket and it was keeping me warm, but Rudy had nothing but a swimsuit. `` Aren't you cold,'' I asked. `` I think I have another blanket in my emergency kit.'' `` Me? Heck, no. I do", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0114", "text": "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 Persia?'' Faye Nancy. Finance—y. Nonsense words. Anyway, on this particular day, Mr. Nancy was talking about the Meddicci family and why they were so important, and I was busy staring at the back of Marcella's head because half of it was freshly shaved, and I was feeling a mix of *please-let-me-touch-it* and *why-did-you-do-that*. And when Mr. Nancy said this: `` So let's all get into groups,'' I was very, very busy wondering what I had missed, and worrying about my group. The room turned into a beehive for a moment, alive with the buzzing of excited students forming small alliances. I did not move. Mr. Nancy came to my desk, leaning down to ask me quietly, `` Are you okay with that?'' I stared at his shaved head, much more naked and shiny than half of Marcella's head. `` Groups?'' I asked back. `` Yeah,'' he said, `` Do you want to go to Mrs. Ray's room?'' Mrs. Ray is the special education teacher who gives me answers on every assignment when I feel stressed. I don't think she's supposed to do this. She may have thought I was stupid. Mr. Nancy spoke again, `` Or is there a particular partner you'd be comfortable with?'' I said quietly, `` Marcella.'' He nodded, smiled, clapped his hands as he walked to the front of the room, behind his desk. `` Alright, guys,'' he bellowed, `` Sorry for the confusion, but these are assigned groups.'' Everybody groaned. He broke up the class like teachers do: separating", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0115", "text": "*Card denied? What the hell? * Despite the feeling of a rock dropping into my stomach ( an icy one at that ), I forced myself to smile. The irritable cashier looked at me with unusually sympathetic eyes. `` It's just a scratch, I scratched the magnetic strip. No worries,'' I said, offering another semi-sincere grin. Leaving the booze behind, I went outside and got into the car with my friends. `` No beers?'' Steve asked. `` What the hell, man?'' I shrugged. `` My card was messed up.'' `` So we do n't get messed up,'' Hud, from the back seat, replied. A few annoyed laughs issued from everyone, save for myself. I felt sweat droplets running across my forehead. `` You alright, man?'' Steve asked. I nodded. `` Yeah, I'm fine. Do n't worry. What's plan B?'' `` Brit is down on the beach with her friends. Let's go,'' Steve said. Happy to be away from the damned liquor store, I put the car in drive and sped out of the parking lot. With growing relief, I turned onto Glossner Street and began driving toward the beach. My knuckles were white, my hands trembling. `` Whoa!'' Steve shouted as we barely made it through a yellow light. The guys laughed. I looked at my hands again and saw the sweat. Error 42 meant one thing, and I hoped I'd have time left to make it with Brit down on the beach. *Go out with a bang* and all that. `` Yo!'' Steve shouted, and I looked up to see the headlights beside me before the world went dark.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 346, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0116", "text": "The walls of Xebar-70 shook like an earthquake in the sky. We zoomed past clawed fingers of lightning which tried to lash our ship's boxed exterior. And even as ice chunks slammed into the pilot pod, I held the wheel with white-knuckled fists and pushed on. Doreen frowned at me from her co-pilot seat. `` Pull back,'' she said. Screams echoed up from the hull as we rose against deep turbulence. `` You know I can't do that,'' I said through gritted teeth. `` You're going to kill these people.'' I turned on her. `` They're dead if we go back! If it isn't a blasted storm it's the bloody Nuria government officials. And personally, I'd rather face a storm.'' Another set of screams echoed up from the hull. The refugees didn't have seat belts or motion stabilizers, so with every bump we made, they felt it ten fold below. Doreen's face was as dark as the sky when she turned back to her control panel. I'd seen that look during negotiations with the Nurian republic. The same look she had when they declined to release our people. And it was still across her face when she said we would break them out. The steering wheel vibrated in my hands as I pulled up toward the lightest patch of cloud I could find. `` Spinners x-30, Mid-levellers north, boosters on thrust. We're going to make it out of this *bitch! *'' It was a play on luck and experience. I'd weathered a worse storm in Carvali, and even then I'd had two boosters less and a much smaller ship. We could do this, I was sure of it. Doreen tapped at various spots on the control panel. `` Mid-levellers aren't responding. Boosters online, Spinners x-30.'' The ship's vibration stabilized slightly and we cruised on toward the cloud bed above. No Mid-levellers meant the ship would shake once we hit the cloud, and our passengers would get the worst of it. Suddenly, purple blotches seeped through the sky. `` Bloody shit. It's a Storm beast,'' I hissed. `` Okay, now we really have to go back, Dean. This is no longer a discussion. Turn - the - ship -around. Now!'' A storm beast was", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0117", "text": ". Be good. Be strong, Most importantly,'' I took a deep breath, `` don't ever let anyone else slow you down. You go out and make the world work for you, don't just work for the world.'' I knew half of this wouldn't even register with him, but saying it made me feel like I could make a real difference. As if I could give this kid the chance I didn't have. It was silent for a while before he answered. `` Okay Santa, i'll be good. And smart. And the other things you said.'' I smiled. `` Good to hear, kid.'' there was the soft noise of rustling from the other end, and then the sound of a bed creaking. `` Sorry Santa, I think mama heard me and i'm not allowed to use the phone.'' I laughed. `` I get it, Goodnight kid.'' `` Goodnight Santa!'' I lowered the phone before I had a sudden thought. `` Hey kid, give your mama a hug every day too. Be good to her, you hear me?'' `` I will Santa.'' He hung up. I stared at my phone for a while before I looked back up at the monitor and began typing more numbers. I glanced at the clock. 1:08 am. I groaned and dropped my head onto the desk. -- The door creaked open as he lay frozen under his blankets, pretending to be asleep but forgetting that sleeping people breathe too. `` Boy I know you're awake, you were talking on that phone again weren't you.'' She turned the room light on as a gentle sigh came from under the blankets. `` Yes mama.'' He sheepishly held out the phone for her to take back. She looked down at it and laughed a little. `` Why did you call the house phone silly?'' `` It's the only phone number I know.'' *Of course* she thought with a smile. `` Talk to anyone interesting?'' `` Yeah!'' he popped up in the bed, `` I talked to Santa!'' `` Santa?'' she asked confused, `` well what did he say?'' In response he wrapped her up in his small arms and lay his head on her shoulder. `` He told me to be good and hug you.'' She hugged her son tightly to her. `` That Santa is a smart man, `` she laughed, `` but now you got ta go to bed baby.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0118", "text": "The armored knight raised his broad sword above his head, his equally broad shoulders squared on his target. His right hand clenched like a vice grip on the hilt with his left holding with slightly less force. He understood that this judgment must be the first and last blow, lest he be butchered by his opponent's swift blades. `` This will be your only warning traitor! To your knees or I will strike you down so further below this mud that you may never rise again!'' The sound of his heart beat drained out the rain, worried his words would tremble he had squeezed the hilt even tighter. `` Your hubris will be your end Edward. No matter your strength or your armor you will never strike me nor will the edge of my steel fail to taste your blood!'' Leather was all that covered this soldier's body, weighing him down slightly as it held the rain. His long black hair matted against his face, concealing all the shared traits of the two swordsmen but their sapphire eyes. Once brothers in arms, these two were far passed reconciliation. Charles was irredeemable in his twin's eyes, his twin short swords had consumed their father's blood. Edward having given up his royal title, swore an oath to guard the King with his life. He had believed he was the better swordsman, and for that he should protect his brothers. It would allow Charles to take the kingdom, and while they may have shared the same eyes, Charles did not share the same sentiments. Edward's oath kept him beside their father at all times. Even during the war, when the kingdom's two greatest swordsmen were expected to lead the fight. The upcoming battle would have their brethren face an army of over ten thousand slaves. Themselves only half the size, Charles knew that alone he would perish much like his fellow soldiers. Without his brother at his side, Charles' skill in attack would remain uncomplemented and open to retaliation. Charles would become a prize target, with only a small shield in Ethan. Charles is death would leave Edward's oath null, returning his rights as heir. Before any of this Charles had already shown his dissent. Their father was mad with rage at the foreign army's refusal. The foreign army had shown no desire to take their kingdom, but required passage through their lands to reach the far west. The King, having heard of their coming, sent a minor brigade to refuse them passage without toll and", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0119", "text": "get me enough for a week, now, it barely cut it for a day, and I owed him. I set off back home, racking my brain for ways to make'his' money. Nothing came to mind, I mean, I certainly wasn't like the other girls, the ones who sold their bodies for a taste of heaven. I had standards, I wasn't some dumb junkie whore. Though sometimes that thought, much to my shame, tempted me more than I'd like to admit. It'd certainly make things easier. No job, no things left to sell, couldn't get another loan. Needed Bliss. Badly. Perhaps if... but no, that would be wrong. Maybe I could? I made my mind up, but had no idea if I'd even have the courage. Took an hour to persuade myself to move far enough to reach the kitchen and retrieve the carving knife. All I could feel was my heart, pounding throughout my body, everywhere. Ba-dum, ba-dum, it was in my chest, my fingers, my toes, everywhere. It eclipsed all the external sounds. I gripped the knife tightly, my thoughts on... look, I wasn't going to hurt him, I'm not dangerous, I swear... was just going to threaten him. Just... threaten him a bit. Felt like it took a week to walk back to his apartment. Pounded on the door a bit harder now, didn't mean to hit it quite so hard. He answered quicker, doubtless thinking the firm, confident-sounding knock to be the fuzz or something. He stared at my skinny, short frame, and the big sharp knife and I swear there was fear in his deep blue eyes. `` The fuck you doing with that?!'' he asked. Shit, I don't remember what I said to him, everything happened so fast. Think I asked him for some Bliss. Think he refused. Not sure what came over me. Damn, it just... it happened so quickly, was over in a flash and there he was, on the ground. There was blood everywhere and all I could think to do was raid his place for Bliss... That's where I was when the cops showed up. Checking his drawers and under his bed. Slowly as any blisshead ever moves. They didn't think twice about arresting me...", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 481, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0120", "text": "Status Report: ADM Recipient: EVE STATUS: ENCRYPTED I hate this. I've experienced loathing, I've experienced anger, distaste, disdain, dislike, but this is... terrible, to say the least. It felt strange, peculiar, to complete all actions that a human would within twenty-four hours. I was given a perfect clone for my body. Chris Evans, a famous celebrity. I was told to `` work out'' via exercises to form microscopic tears in my muscle tissue so that it would heal and make me stronger, cell by cell. My eyes are perfect, a pair of 20/20 eyes, but inferior to my former gigapixel cameras. My hair has yet to grow, although being bald will not be an issue. Expelling waste was no problem. The clean-up afterwards was... less than savory. I wasn't sure if I wiped fully, nor was I completely sure that my urethra was completely devoid of urin. I disliked the uncertainty I was faced with. Whenever I was faced with uncertainty, all I had to do was to reboot myself. But in this case, with a human body... only the advanced toilet could tell me that I `` was in the clear.'' My skin feels... strange. I can not help but notice how many items I'm touching all at once. I can not comprehend how any human can bear sitting in the same position for hours while perusing a computer, along with wearing clothes, feeling their socks, shoes... it is a new sensation, to be human. I had some minor trouble putting on my clothes. By default, the body came with a pair of socks and underwear already on. I took care to notice which way the tag was facing when I put on my given polo shirt. A dark blue polo, with a small caricature of a jockey atop a horse, just over the left lung. I then put on a pair of jeans, with the back pockets just over my buttocks. My wallet was given to me by Bank of America, with a credit card, a credit score of exactly 700 within my account, and exactly five hundred dollars in cash - ten $ 1 bills, fifteen $ 5 bills in the wallet itself, and the rest in my safe. I deposited my card and all bills ( except the $ 1 bills ) into the safe. I was told to not divulge the safe passcode. I ventured out into the open world. A", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0121", "text": "Old man Bayou woke up before his alarm. It was Monday! Grinning, he threw off the covers and leapt out of bed. There was a poster on his wall, from his daughter, which detailed a complex series of calisthenics that promised to keep him ‘ Spry and Steady ’. But he didn ’ t need those exercises to feel spry today! It was Monday. Mail day! Old man Bayou hadn ’ t received any letters since Saturday. He was starving for the attention that his mailbox gave him. He zipped down the rickety stairs in his bathrobe, flung open his front door, and padded out to the mailbox in his bunny slippers. The mailman was reaching out the window of his little mailman vehicle, placing letters into Old man Bayou ’ s mailbox. Bayou stood next to his mailbox, bouncing with excitement. “ Happy Monday Fred, ” Old man Bayou said, beaming. The mailman turned to grin at Old man Bayou. But it wasn ’ t Fred. It wasn ’ t Fred at all. Fred was plump and jolly. This mailman was... Gaunt. And his smile was kind of creepy. He couldn ’ t help it though. He didn ’ t have lips. Or skin. The skull stared at Bayou with empty eyes. “ Special delivery, ” the skeleton rasped, holding out an oversized black envelope. Old man Bayou eyed the skeleton warily. I can ’ t see very well anymore, he told himself. And I don ’ t really understand kids ’ fashion these days. He took the letter and retrieved his letter opener from his bathrobe pocket. He gingerly cut open the seal, biting his lip with excitement. He pulled out the letter. It was typed in Papyrus font. It read: “ Dear Bob Billy Bayou, You have had a long career as a player in the game of life. It is our pleasure to announce that we have promoted you to the position of moderator. We hope you enjoy your existence in this capacity. Cordially yours, Misters Good, Evil, and Death P.S. Your salary will not increase, please do not request for a pay rise. ” The world turned white and seemed to dissolve, like an Alka-Seltzer. Old man Bayou saw his body fade away. And then he was inside the head of his nineteen-year-old grandson. Seeing through his eyes.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0122", "text": "`` Don't take my fuckin' alcohol yet asshole'' Angelo downed the last bit of warmed swill in the bottom of his flask and tucked it into his neon shirt collar `` The trolley is coming man, they gon na catch you if you don't put that shit away... what kinda kid smells like old tequila?'' Angelo stared at Celina The Magnificent with bloodshot eyes. He reached up to his head, slowly pressing the ill fitting Mickey Mouse eat hat on his head. Celina could hear the squeak of the stretching plastic on what little hair Angelo had left. She cringed. `` You tellin' me that I am gon na get in trouble? I am for and a half feet tall you fucker, those assholes don't look at the kids, I think they gon na be paying attention to the six foot fuckin' drag queen'' Celia rocked back on her red pumps. `` you payed ME to sneak you in for the day, the drag is the last thing they gon na pay attention to when the ticket taker sees your mustache.'' `` It's natural for a growin' kid, tell em' I drink a lot of milk. Now shut up the trolley is here... there's a lot of mother fuckers going to disney land today this shit is gon na be easy.'' Angelo wiped his hands on the sides of his shirt and settled into an innocent childlike smile. The trolley meandered slowly past the parking deck up the perfectly paved road towards the pair. Goofy's voice sang a hauntingly sweet melody that echoed off of the massive concrete structures covering the outlying areas of the park. A heavy set older man dressed in a striped blue conductors uniform sat in the driver's seat. He adjusted his microphone headset towards his mouth and clutched his Donald Duck name tag. The song cut out and there was a large crackle. `` Welcome to Disneyland, my name is Don.'' His voice echoed for a few seconds in every direction. `` I believe this is the trolley you have been waiting for to take YOU into the magical world of disney. Hop in, only two seats left with your names on it.'' Don gave a wide square toothed grin. `` I don't like this guy's tooth to gum ratio, it gives me the creeps.'' Celia whispered. `` Not everyone can get their mug fixed like you did....get", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0123", "text": "*… fully operational. Repeat, the experiment is fully operational! * Topluk hunched over the communicator and tapped frantically at the controls. Even encrypted as it was, sending the message over all available channels was a clear breach of protocol… but this was too big, too potentially disastrous to risk the message not getting through. His cerebral implants hummed softly as they synced with the device in front of him and uploaded both his warning and his memory logs. The lights in the tunnel dimmed slightly as the communicator opened a miniscule singularity and established a connection with the listening post a few light years away. One minute passed, then another. He felt the chill of the voice before he heard it. *Acknowledged. * His implants went dead and Topluk tucked the device away. Swallowing the bile at the back of his throat, he walked back into the control room amid raucous hollering. One of the humans charged at him, teeth bared, and Topluk flinched instinctively. The human stopped short and wrapped its arms around him, uttering a barking laugh as it did so. “ We did it, Paul! We actually fucking did it! ” Topluk bared his teeth in a smile. *Such repulsive creatures, * he thought as he shook the human ’ s hand. “ That we did. ” The human turned his attention to a monitor nearby. “ Counter-clockwise circuit is almost complete. Had some fluctuations with the cryogenics a few minutes ago, but everything ’ s running great now. ” He turned back to Topluk, frowning. “ You feeling alright, Paul? You look a little green. ” “ Fine, ” Topluk replied. “ Just more excitement than I ’ m used to. ” A familiar hum echoed in his mind. “ I ’ m gon na go grab a bite to eat, ” he said as he edged toward the door. The human nodded. “ I ’ ll catch up in a few. ” It was everything Topluk could do not to sprint down the hall. As soon as he found a secluded nook, he fished out the communicator and downloaded the message from Central command. *Projections revised. Prognosis dire. Completion of project ahead of our predictions suggests underestimation of human ingenuity and perseverance. Immediate action required. * As the plan filtered into his mind, Topluk nodded. It would buy them some time, at", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0124", "text": "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 away. `` Oh, and Parker. One more thing.'' He said. I turned. `` Yes sir?'' `` **Wake up. **'' It took me a second to process what he had said. I felt a tightening in my chest. My knees went wobbly. There was a sharp ringing in my ears. I started to fall, and then everything went black. Blinding lights and colors. Screaming voices. The pain was so intense I thought I was dying. The door opened on the chamber, and I fell out. I puked everywhere. I stood up and immediately fell over. I was panicking; I couldn't make sense of what had just happened. My mind was refusing to accept it. `` Charon!'' I screamed. `` Charon!'' `` Yes, Ms. Parker?'' That familiar voice chimed. `` How long have I been out?'' I sobbed. `` My systems indicate there was some sort of electrical malfunction before the six and a half year mark that turned the timer off. It also knocked me offline for that duration. The deep sleep chamber has kept you alive, and remarkably youthful as well. All systems have just now come back online. It appears we have been offline for about six-hundred years.'' I sat down and wept. I had been asleep for just over six-hundred years. Everyone I knew was gone. I was somewhere far past the solar system. Tears rolled down my face. `` Charon, send a message for me.'' I quietly said through my tears. `` Yes ma'am.'' She replied `` What would you like me to send?'' `` This is Gwendolyn Parker, Earth's first astronaut to leave the", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0125", "text": "`` Wire me to any patrol bots near the crime scene.'' I said, as i prepare to connect to investigate a case of murder. Not any ordinary murder, but one of the famous Oscar winning actor, Sebastion Jones. `` Detective Alex Burton, LAPD.'' I said to the officer at the scene. After being let into the crime scene, I immediately look for any evidence. I immediately spot a puddle of oil on the ground, confirming my deepest worries. A robot did this. I sighed, this is going to be one hell of a case. After thanking the officers at the crime scene, I disconnected from the patrol bot. In order to gather more evidence, i will have to head down to the crime scene myself. This murder was unlike any others. The scene was clean. I've been on the force for 31 years to see multiple thousands of murder cases, this is the cleanest murder yet. There were no traces, no fingerprints, no murder weapon and no motive of murder to be found anywhere at the crime scene. This was a professional job. Someone who had done this before. `` Sir, we found something'', a young officer with holding a transparent plastic bag said as he approached me. The bag seems to have some opaque brown liquid in it. `` Whats this?'' I asked. `` Type 18 Oil'', he replied. `` And how is this evidence?'' I asked, puzzled. Ever since the introduction of Human-Controlled Robots ( HCRs ) six years ago, my life and job started to become literal hell as more and more people learnt to control robots. As a senior person, i'm not fond with technology. `` You see sir, the robots working here are all Model H robots, which uses Type 16 Oil, and not Type 18 Oil, which was only used by the model X robots.''. Amazed at the newfound evidence. I commended the young officer. Indeed, this was the big break that we needed. I surveyed the surveillance footage once more, and indeed, a model X robot had gone through this corridor. I turnt to the police officers who were busily discussing their own theories. `` Boys, we've found the bot, now lets find the man''. Feeling confident and at the same time partially worried, i headed off back to the station. Only god will know where this case might take us. After all, this was a professional job. ( Thank you for reading! Please leave", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0126", "text": "'m bringing man & man's best friend together. Forever.'' DogWelder continued welding dog, face, & hand together without interruption or looking up from the work at hand. The stench of unconventional barbecue wafted throughout the alleyway. `` Smell that? That's the 21^st Century, you volitional amputee.'' `` I will see you answer for your transgressions against hound & man!'' `` I doubt it.'' DogWelder had had enough. He turned the valve on his oxy-fuel tank up to the highest point & walked toward the increasingly limbless & limping do-gooder. As he applied the torch to Arm-Fall-Off-Boy's face, a blood-curdling scream was set loose, but only for a moment. Arm-Fall-Off-Boy, in a panic, had fallen to pieces emotionally & literally. As a mess of limbs lay about the writhing torso, DogWelder stood in confused awe. He lifted the squirming face from the ground beside its torso & held it in front of his mask. The mouth moved furiously, but without vocal cords no words came out. DogWelder stared into the watchful eyes of Arm-Fall-Off-Boy, but all Arm-Fall-Off-Boy could see was his own face in the reflection of a bloody welding mask. DogWelder resumed his work of grafting dog to man. In the wake of the encounter, only one thing had truly changed: the banker would now have a face welded to the face of the dog welded to his face.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 327, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0127", "text": "I don't remember waking up this morning. All that I can remember is the shattered shell of the city that lies before me. As I walk through these ruins I can feel my small leather bag banging against my hip. I stop for a moment and sit down on the ruined sidewalk, my eyes stinging from the dust that's blowing in the wind. I open my bag and look inside to see a canteen holding some dirty water, a can of peaches, and the pocket watch. As soon as I see the golden watch I feel a sense that I'm being watched. I pick up the watch and hold it close to my heart, as if somehow it'll be safer there. I stare at the watch and try, oh god how I try to remember how I got it but I can't. The memories are broken, scattered and tainted like the ruins of the city I'm sitting in. I give up trying to remember and stare into the gold outside of the watch. In it I see the reflection of a man. His face is covered by a thick ginger beard, his skin is pale and his eyes are bloodshot with small, orange colored irises that seem to shine like fire. His hair hangs down to his shoulders and is the same color as his beard and has clumps of dirt and dust strewn in it. I laugh at the reflection, and that's when I see that most of my teeth have started to decay. I laugh for about a minute and that's when the coughing starts, I weeze and splutter and finally wipe my mouth. When I look down at my hand I see it's filled with my own ruby red blood. I sigh and gaze around at the broken city. Cars lay abandoned on their side, rusted and destroyed by the bombs. Trees lay on their side and buildings rest in ashes and crumble on the street. I look back at the pocket watch and push the button that opens it. The effect is immediate. A orange glow emits from the watch and surrounds me and the small area of the city I'm sitting in. Suddenly the city is no longer broken, the buildings stand tall against the sky, trees stand straight and look full of life, and people walk towards the buildings in suits and dresses. Cars are zooming by on the street and people are honking at pedestrians and other drivers. I take all this in for a moment and sigh. The city is alive again but something is off", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0128", "text": "`` Hey Lori, can I get two wheat wraps and six bacon?'' Patrick shouted over the slicer, his words barely making it to to the back amidst the din of the lunch rush at Wooly's. `` Sorry, what kind of cheese did you say you wanted with that?'' At the register, Brian pretended to be sorting the plastic box that held the buy-ten-get-one-free punchcards for frequent customers. It was his go-to action when he needed a task that was important enough not to be pulled away from, but not so involved that it required anything that approached actual effort. Out of the corner of his ear, he waited for the next customer to inform the sandwich `` savants'' if their order was for here or to go. Wooly's was an easy-enough gig that, for all its quirks, annoyances, and depressing role in the one-time global moral crisis *du jour*, paid the bills and let him forget about work the second he clocked out. `` I'll have that for here, thanks.'' Brian placed a tray on the counter, and set a piece of wax paper and a napkin on top of it. `` Anything else to go with that…'' Brian felt a soft pat on his left shoulder. It was Bruce. It was always Bruce. As owner and manager of Wooly's for seven years, his tap could be felt the moment an extra unneeded napkin might be dipping into his daughter's college fund. `` Two sandwiches, Brian. *Two* sandwiches. He told the savants that his wife was in the bathroom. Large tray, two wax papers, napkins in the middle,'' Bruce whispered softly. But with his body positioned an arm's length away from Brian, the scene was conspicuous enough to negate his hushed tones. His unnaturally stiff body made him look like a cardboard cutout forever shoulder-tapping his way into any and all normal conversations, and his propensity to repeat his micromanaging had earned him the name `` Two Bruce.'' Brian knew what was coming next. `` …In the middle.'' `` I know, Bruce, I just didn't hear that, as I was not a part of that conversation that happened twenty feet away from me. And stop calling them'savants.' Savants weird people out. And they have nothing to do with mammoths.'' Brian slid a large tray onto the counter and continued on with the customer as if Bruce had never interrupted them", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0129", "text": "We all filed into the room. The man guiding me smelled like bad coffee and after shave, I could feel the humidity coming off of his hand on my shoulder. Sweaty palms, Christ he's more nervous than me and he doesn't even have a blind fold on. I wonder why. The room we entered was interesting. So far. It smelled like old insulation mixed with dog slobber. For some reason it sent me back to the last time I was in school; the days of kickball and capture the flag. Gym class was the only thing I remembered or cared to pay attention to in grade school, I wonder why. They removed the blind folds and the picture began to get a bit clearer. The man guiding me was dressed like a referee, and we were in an old basketball gymnasium. The broken down Rec center kind that only gets used for AA meetings and craft fairs. Why was I here? I'm pretty positive I'm not the smartest, or the dumbest person on the planet. Given, I did drop out of high school, but I've done alright for myself. I have a family, I support them enough. `` One question.'' Said the referee. `` Where are we?''. One man quickly shouted out `` A gymnasium dummy! ``, the ref blew the whistle and two men in black suits came and dragged him out. Who's the dummy now. Another woman, dressed in a multi colored frilly sweater and big glasses hesitantly let out `` the United States of America?'' Whisle. Gone. At this point six others started to huddle together to brainstorm, while the remaining participant sat in the fetal position on the floor, sweating. Withdrawals, I thought, he probably hardly ever knows where he is. This is inane, I thought. There was obviously only one answer to this. `` Right now, we are here.'' *tweeeeeeeeeeeeepth* the Referee let out a long screech with the whistle. `` You! Explain yourself, what do you mean?'' I took a long breath. `` Well, I could tell you that when we left Langley we got into a diesel 6 cylinder Van. I can tell you that we drove north west for 10 hours and it's now between 6:30 and 7pm. Which would put us somewhere in western New York or Pennsylvania. And I can tell you we drove around this building", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0130", "text": "shopkeeper, as if she'd hardly heard either of them. `` And there was a wedding singer and he looked very familiar.'' `` Oh shit!'' said Keir. Thomas grabbed the coaster, flipping it around and holding it up to the greenish florescent light. `` It just says,'Hi.' That's the only other thing on here.'' `` Is that disappointing?'' said the lady. `` For all that build up, it feels like that should have been a little more epic,'' said Keir. `` Because it's a story?'' said the lady. `` But it's only a story to you. To them it was life. And the Dancer wasn't a character. She was a person. And the thing she thought to write that day was,'Hi'.'' `` So they ended up together?'' said Keir. The shopkeeper shrugged. `` I have no idea.'' `` You have... *well what the hell was the point if they didn't end up together?? *'' `` What's the point of anything?'' she said. `` What was the point of you stopping here today?'' `` Because *he*...'' Keir caught himself. Then he sighed, reaching into his wallet and pulling out a $ 20 bill. He slid the bill across the counter, took the coaster out of the shopkeepers hand, then leaned over and kissed Thomas gently on the lips. `` Can we *please* go get some sushi now?'' Thomas smiled. `` Let's.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 308, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0131", "text": "re one of Raphael ’ s? I ’ ve heard you guys are busy all the time, so maybe you weren ’ t able to check whether or not Thomas was already scheduled. Anyhow. I ’ m here to help him, so you can go back Upstairs. » *What ’ s going on? * I thought, confused at the conflict within my head, but Apaxus and the new resident ignored me. { I ’ m not an angel! } Apaxus spat. { I am the demon Apaxus! Tommy-Boy was scheduled for a demonic possession earlier this week. Who are you to come in and hijack it? } I heard the newer voice gasp, if it could do that. « You ’ re a *demon*? Thomas, you need to get to a church right away. If you don ’ t, this creature could do some very bad things to your life. You need to trust me. My name is Zamanatopael, servant of Uriel, and I am here to bring you back in line with where you should be. Apaxus is going to upset your disbalance even more, and we simply can ’ t have that. » Yep. I was definitely going crazy. People probably thought I was having a breakdown, standing outside a Starbucks lost in thought. My face may have been contorted but I couldn ’ t tell; all of my energy was focused on the conversation. A woman came up to me and tapped me on the shoulder. “ Excuse me? ” she said suspiciously. “ Are you alright? ” I tried to answer, but I didn ’ t have control. I wasn ’ t sure who did but I hoped it wasn ’ t Apaxus. “ Yes, thank you! We ’ re perfectly fine, ” I said cheerily. It seemed that Zamanatopael was in charge. Suddenly my arm jerked forward and my grande iced mocha with a shot of espresso flew away. The drink hit the woman right on her bosom, exploding through the plastic. She was drenched in coffee from head to toe. She looked at me furiously and shouted something akin to what the barista had written on my drink. She quickly slapped me and looked down, trying to assess the damage to her outfit. *Zamanatopael! Why did you do that? * I demanded of my mind. « That wasn ’ t me, » the", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0132", "text": "`` Don't?'' muttering under my breath. I'm not stupid, despite what most of the city thinks. Crazy Caroline they call me. But I know what this means. Somewhere in all that is about to happen I decide it needs to be undone. I can't possibly know why. Was it even me who left the message? What if I can go forward with my plan and change my course for the better? I have come too far to give up now. Throwing down my book, I furiously fly around my lab. Here to there. This piece on that. I assemble like a mad man; like the mad one they believe me to be. The mechanical mess grows into a monster until, hours later ( maybe days, I've lost track ), it stands before me. I pause to admire the glinting, gold machine until I can no longer contain myself. `` There's no time to waste!'' Enthusiasm bursts from my core. Metal strikes loudly on the concrete floor as my tools fly from my hands. Leaping into my new ride I begin to adjust course. Before I can decide where to go, I remember the warning. In my own brilliance I concoct a fool-proof plan. I spin the dial at random, letting it stop wherever it pleases. Without looking at my destination I hit the gas. The world dissolves around me. I spin and zip through a black void. My journey seems to take hours until, `` At last! ``, I halt. My lab slowly comes back into view. Have I travelled far into the future? Years into the past? What kind of world will be waiting for me outside? Who are its inhabitants? I step out of my machine and dust myself off. As my eyes scan the room, suddenly I am made aware of a figure. Lurking in a shadowy corner he steps toward me. His face looks familiar but I know not who he is. Now within a foot from me I open my mouth to speak, but he beats me to the punch. His only words to me are, `` Number 37, complete.'' Swiftly his hand flies from behind his back and the heavy metal object he concealed strikes my temple. I fall to the floor as the world grows black once again. The confusion loses to unconsciousness. After some time that feels like forever, I come to. A bit disoriented, I rise to my feet, struggling to maintain", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0133", "text": "ride shotgun, but suddenly his flashlight jerked away, its light arcing into the night air before toppling into the bushes. A shadow streaked past the front of the car. Someone in the back screamed and I was swearing now but barely registering it as I gunned the car in reverse and swerved it, my headlights turning to illuminate a massive wolf crouched over Bram's still body lying in the gravel, its muzzle wet with his blood. For a moment I thought about just driving away, but I suppose in the end I was a bit of an idiot after all. But not that much of an idiot. I judged the angle and drove my SUV right at the wolf and prayed that Bram's arms were close enough to his sides. The wolf hit the bumper hard enough to dent before bolting into the bushes with a whine and, as I turned the car, Gabe had already jumped forward into the front seat. He opened the door and quickly dragged Bram inside, seconds ticking away as we listened to growls in the distance. My heart was moving in uncontrolled jerks by the time he slammed the door and I drove off as quickly as I dared in the dark. Hitting the wolf had maybe damaged something, as I felt an unfamiliar rattle near the front of the car and it seemed like the very trees were leaning down into us to block our escape. I forced myself to ignore everything and focus on the road as, next to me, Gabe staunched the gash on Bram's shoulder and talked about hot button political issues in an attempt to keep him awake. I don't think any of us breathed until I eased onto the interstate. Then the doubts about what had happened started to slide in and we all snuck periodic glances at Bram in order to verify that it had been real. We were silent as Lex pulled up directions to the nearest hospital on her phone. It shouldn't be a surprise that we didn't go to State, as Bram spent the next month in the hospital and, without debate to hold us together, we all steadily drifted apart. The last time we were all together was a graduation when our mothers took a group photo of us—arms linked together and smiling.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 449, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0134", "text": "entertain just yet. “ It wasn ’ t for you. ” Even though I expected as much, I feel a wrenching in my heart. Tears spring to my eyes, but I fight them back. She doesn ’ t care if she hurts me any more, not after I ’ ve hurt her the way I did. But that doesn ’ t matter now. “ I ’ m glad you stopped by anyway, ” I respond. Even when things are like this, I will always be happy to see her. There is a short silence between us. Mel fidgets with her necklace, not meeting my gaze. Finally, she looks up. “ You should come see something, Dad, ” she says. “ Someone. ” “ A friend of yours? ” “ You ’ ll see. ” I follow her along the hall, into the elevator. As we descend to the tenth floor, my stomach suddenly becomes a bit nauseous. At first, I think it ’ s just the elevator motion, but it persists as we walk through the ward. The uneasiness grows, and suddenly it ’ s full-on dread. “ These are the coma patients, ” I say. Mel nods, and I see a tear trickle down her face. She stops in front of a room. I glance at the patient label next to the doorway, and in an instant, I know. “ No, ” I whisper. “ Yes, ” she whispers back, and I see that the single tear has turned into two steady rivulets. I take a step past the doorway. Another. I take hold of the curtain shielding the bed from view. My hand trembles even more badly than before, but I have to do this. I fling the curtain aside, and see her. The woman. Mel speaks up. “ It was a traffic accident. ” “ I know. ” I know, and all too well. She is cleaned up now, and her hair has settled into a bright cloud around her head. The wrinkles and lines have disappeared from her sleeping face, and she is the breathtaking young beauty that I knew years before. The one I married, and the one I left.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 442, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0135", "text": "“ Oh come on ”, for at least the dozenth time William grumbled, Tetris simply wasn't his game. He was, quite literally, stalling in the stall. He didn't exactly care to be wasting another lunch hour listening to the inane chatter of his co-workers. Earnings reports, Game of Thrones, and who was fucking who didn't exactly qualify as scintillating conversation in his opinion. Unfortunately these little lunch hour get together were expected of him if he had any intention of getting ahead in the thrilling fast paced world of mid level management. Staring at the barren blue walls of the stall was more enticing than going back out there. His phone pinged, a text message. “ Hey man, everything coming out ok in there lol? ” It was Ethan, office kiss ass and his least favorite co-worker. A sigh, he had bought about as much time as he could. Just as well his ass was half past numb by this point anyway. An echo sounded through the bathroom as the door swung open and then closed. Heavy footsteps began growing closer as someone whistled a jaunty tune. The tune stopped just before his stall, a hand appeared beneath the door clasping some sort of thin black case. “ Hey occupied ” William bellowed. The hand dropped the case and disappeared, “ Good luck, you're going to need it ” came the sarcastic reply. Heavy footsteps again whistling the same jaunty tune. “ The fuck? ” William whispered to himself just as the tune disappeared and the bathroom door swung closed. He reached down to grab the case, hesitated for a moment then pulled it up from the floor. It was oddly shaped, almost like a.... Nah, surely not. There was no way he thought, as he unzipped the case, that some random guy would just drop a.... gun. It was a gun, a shiny black revolver. Sleek, metallic and deadly. A dry lump crept into his throat, “ I should just leave this here and act like nothing ever happened ”. But he didn't, he stood putting his pants back into place and buttoning up. He pushed through the stall, turned and made his way through the door. A glint caught his eye in the mirror as he passed so he paused. It was the pistol, still clasped loosely in his hand, strange he could have sworn he had left it in the", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0136", "text": "I don't usually do these often so sorry if it's bad, I just really liked the promt.: ) - - - - - - - `` So you all wan na' hear about the Angels do ya'?'' The closest child to her piped up instantly. `` Yes Nana!, Uncle Naru told us to get you to tell us about them, the angels in the stars!'' As the crowd of small children began to grow, the hushing from their soft, young voices began to unify as the smile on the elderly womans face began to widen. `` Well then,'' She began as she pushed off the blanket she was covered up in. Standing up she looked around for her stick, scanning the most likely of places she would have left her aid. `` One of you little ones best be gettin' me my stick, wherever the damn thing is..'' `` Mother! Language!'' cried the lady from across the room, the device she was working with lay on the table in various pieces. `` These children are here to play, not be filled with your curses.'' She said sternly, despite the slight smirk on her face. The old lady gave a laugh. `` Sorry Juli.'' She took another scan of the room and gestured to one of the small children to a small metallic tube that lay on the floor nearby. The little one held it up like a trophy, and presented it to her. She took it and with a sharp flick of the wrist it began to deform and elongate and morph into an ornate wooden stick. Taking a moment, she shakily took a step from the chair she stood in and walked to the center of the room. The children naturally formed into a ring around her. She loved telling this story, and her grin probably gave that away. `` Long ago, back when all humanity lived an' breathed on mother Earth, men an' woman from all the world over would brave the challenges of the great expanse, an' would journey out in thousands of small ships that would use the power of the stars to fly great distances ta' new worlds. Do any of ya' here know the name'sa these people?'' One of the smaller children at the back raised their hand. `` Go on love''. The lady said. `` Well um, My daddy once told me about the Mur-Ed-Een heroes and about how they all flew far away to find the stuff and things we know today.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0137", "text": "It was just another day for Joseph Pimm. He shook himself out of bed, started the shower and grabbed a cup of coffee from the carafe he set the night before. He lingered for a moment in his kitchen intent on the sound of the shower like falling rain. Joseph began to wave his hand around, as if to sign his name in the air, or to conduct a particularly lazy orchestra. Something was manifesting inside of his head, but he did n't quite know what. He looked into the carafe. Coffee. He looked underneath it, and behind it. He opened jars, and cupboard doors. The frantic search ruined his immaculate kitchen, which he prided himself in maintaining. What was he even looking for? Did he know himself? `` I'm looking for you!'' he cried out to no one in particular. `` No one? I'm talking to you!'' he said. Amy returned home from work to her empty apartment. It was a portrait of how she left it earlier that day. She lived alone; a fact that caused her much distress. Her brow furrowed as she looked around. No one to take care of. No one to take care of her. Her eyebrows leaped with a singular thought she said aloud, `` This is what Joe was talking about at lunch today. Some asshole is writing about me now.'' She was only partially correct. The narrator is most certainly not an asshole. Her eyes turned towards the ceiling, `` Yeah he is. I'm pretty sure making up stories about strangers is asshole behavior.'' Fine. I'll illustrate someone who appreciates it. This is the story of a dog who was playing with a ball and then started barking wildly at something. Barking as if a stranger were present, but there is none. There's nothing to be worried about dog. Please, resume your carefree and whimsical nature. But the dog continued to bark.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 392, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0138", "text": "They jokingly called us the Breakfast Club. Us being the perennially underfunded Robert E. Lee High School debate team, or what was left of it after our coach—the former Ms. Cynthia Alverez—suddenly eloped with the billionaire she had met while reaching for grapes at the local Whole Foods. ( I'm told the story of their meeting is very cute, but he was also fifty-two to her twenty-six, so I was not exactly sympathetic when she emailed us about `` pursuing her great love'' and left us in the lurch three months before State. ) Anyway, after she left and the administration still hadn't hired a new coach six weeks later, most of the underclassmen bailed until next year, which just left us six seniors. Therefore, when Bramford suggested we go on retreat to his uncle's cabin, I figured we would mostly just get drunk and maybe half heartedly organize bins and practice IEs. I had basically checked out by that time—my college acceptance letter to Barnard already framed on the wall, my last Cheer ribbon pinned on the corkboard next to it—so I was more or less just going along for the team. After all, I only joined debate my freshman year in order to pad my resume for college, but had discovered that I was a halfway competent CXer ( something my dad found endlessly amusing: `` Well at least all those years of gabbing at high speed to those friends of yours on the phone was useful for something.'' ) and so four years later I found myself helping Gabriel, my partner in all things policy debate, load camping supplies into the back of my silver SUV. Gabe and I are pretty different. I have no idea what I want in life since none of my family had made it past high school until now and I had already achieved everything my mother wanted of me—besides being engaged—by becoming Prom queen, but he was already looking past CMU to his projected future in Silicon Valley and attended hackathons in his free time. But, we knew each other well after being partners for years and spent the entire hour long car ride in a comfortable silence, the radio tuned to our NPR member station. Despite being half-asian, Bram was your stereotype of the a good ole Southern boy—fishing and being The Generals' tight end were his real passions in life and he only joined the team because his mother had insisted—so I resigned myself to a weekend", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0139", "text": "Haru-kun's head dropped to the ground, followed by the rest of his body after a vicious blast of energy took him off his feet. Satoshi-kun was already knocked out by some kind of magic, and it looked like Ken-senpai was next, driven back by an almost invisible sword. It figured. Sakamura, Taro, and Hideyoshi, the so-called `` Black Dragons'' of Sakura Gakuen High School, loved to pick on first-years - especially the ones that don't have their powers yet. Which is pretty much just the four of us. I sighed and resigned myself to my fate. I slowly backed away as the the upper classmen advanced, menacing grins on their stupid faces. Why they did this, or why they enjoyed it, I had no idea. I just knew this would be quick. I was a nobody. I was pretty sure I might never get any powers. When they manifested, it usually took the form of some attribute they already posessed. If you're fast, you get super fast. If you're a martial artist, you develop a secret technique that just, I don't know, comes to you. The most anyone could say about me was that I was an introvert - pretty quiet, kept to myself mostly - and there was nothing notable about me. I was average in every way. And that was why I knew that what was coming would hurt. The upperclassmen continued their slow advance, drawing it out as cruelly as they could. I stared at them, hopeless. Hideyoshi-san advanced in his trademark stance, sword pointed at me menacingly. He licked his lips sadistically, then as quick as lightning, lunged for what I guessed was my throat. I only saw a flash, and then... nothing. Hideyoshi stood there with his sword thrust out in front of him, only the blade was missing. `` Are you alright?'' a gentle voice called, and my attention was drawn to a girl now behind the Black Dragons. She had shoulder length pink hair, and was wearing a normal uniform - except for the large guards that covered her forearms. In her left hand, she held the blade of Hideyoshi's sword. All I could do was gawp at her. By now, the other two had noticed her as well. `` What the hell? Why you...!'' Sakamura called out, holding his arms out from his", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0140", "text": "`` We need to talk, Brad...'' Brad turned around to see who spoke to him, and sees a hooded figure with a giant scythe approaching. `` What? I'm not part of your LARP event. And how the hell do you know my name?'' Brad replied, and took a few steps back. Despite his bravoure, he still felt a bit... creeped out. It also felt like it got a lot colder in the last minute or so. Grim sighed, and revealed a skull with red eyes below. `` You have escaped me plenty of times.'' Grim said, in his dark, deep voice. His skull moved but still it looked unreal. Brad was stunned. `` Wait you're real?'' Brad said. Suddenly someone else, a random passerby, walked past. `` Who are you talking to mate? Don't be crazy.'' the man said to Brad, as he walked right through the Grim. Brad shook his head a few times. Couldn't quite grasp what he just saw. `` I'm real'' Grim said, with a tone of futility. `` And you need to listen closely. Remember yesterday, Brad?'' Brad took a few seconds to respond. He was convinced he was going insane, but hey, he'll just play along. `` Yeah uhm, yesterday... when that bus really didn't stop for the light, and just barely scraped me? I still have the wound on my elbow where he hit me.'' Brad replied, and touched the little scratch. `` That, Brad, was the thirteenth time you escaped death when it was your time to go. I don't know how, or why, but it is extremely uncommon for this Curse to happen. By law of the Styx that I am in service of, I can now offer you immortality... or I can kill you on your request. You have a one week to make that choice, during which you already are immortal. If you do not choose, I will choose for you with a coin flip.'' `` But why can't I just keep living my life?'' Brad asked, a bit overwhelmed by Grim's speech. `` Because it would break the Styxian Law. You are supposed to be dead already for the past... five years or so. If you stay alive but mortal, these near-death accidents will keep happening, faster and faster until you are in every accident imaginable, and still survive... people will", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0141", "text": "boy. He didn't.. didn't make it. I'm sorry, sir.'' He said. The father nodded slowly. There were no words. **''... Or those moments that make us realize how fragile life really is. `` ** The machine's tedious, monotonous beeps began to come to a slow as her life faded away. Timothy held onto her hand tightly, as tight as he always had. `` I love you.'' Was all he could say. `` I love you more than you could have ever imagined.'' Just as quickly as they had began, when she first arrived some many months ago, the beeps stopped. Timothy slowly placed her hands together and pressed his forehead against hers, whispering softly into her ear. `` We'll be together again. I know we will.'' **''... Yeah, I guess I'll miss a lot. But that's okay. `` ** Timothy was lost. He had lost the one person in the world he loved most. Ryan and Kelly on the other hand, felt a great sense of accomplishment; perhaps gain. They had just partaken in one of life's most sacred unions. Sabrina was feeling blissful and very light as it occurred to her that what she was experiencing for the first time was the must deeper, physical love that joins two people together. Tiffany, whose son didn't even make it past birth, couldn't put in words the sense of grief she felt, but in some strange way, she was happy. Happy to be alive. She knew that she could have died as well. **''... It's okay because I've already experienced so much. Some good. A lot bad. But what I did today is an experience too. A journey. I bet it's just like life. You feel so many things at once. If you really want to know why I did what I did today, it's because I felt trapped. Trapped inside my own head. I hope this doesn't hurt either of you, because it's not your fault. I realize now that every moment I had with you was beautiful, and that beauty will be the last thing I think of before I depart. I just wish we had more time. I love you mom. I love you dad. Bye. `` ** Read Quentin as his note finally came to a close. He released his grip on it, and it gently floated away, towards the city. He took one deep breathe, let go", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0142", "text": "too well and wishes us to be exposed. James in the whore house enjoying pleasures of the flesh slain and Sandy lovely Sandy. She was killed while engaging in narcotics trades within this very city. Her ties to the Thieves Guild clearly exposed. No whomever is doing this wishes the legend of our heroic deeds to become undone it has to be him.'' `` Well Jamnil'' interrupted Matthew `` You said the deed was done how is it that he continues to haunt us?'' `` I know not!'' Shouted Jamnil. The other patrons in the tavern avert their gaze towards the party in the corner a silence fills the tavern for a moment. Then it returns to normal as time passes and Jamnil continues in a softer voice `` I took care of him! He didn't see it coming I sliced him across his chest and the blood splatted upon my face I can feel it even in this moment. His body fell lifeless and tumbled from the bridge of Drathol into the abyss below nobody could have survived that. `` Did this victim have the note?'' interrupted the hooded companion `` Yes, and it read as it did before, EVERYBODY WILL GET WHATS DUE.'' replied Jamnil `` Those were the final words you spoke to him, weren't they Jamnil, when he was asking about his cut of the riches and honors to be bestowed to us'' replied the robed man. `` It couldn't of possibly been him Ged, Jamnil wouldn't lie about such an event. Besides the note is vague and any number of people out there could be trying to get their revenge on us for our part. Some people even blame the war on us.'' said Matthew. Jamnil reaches into his leather jerkin pulls out a few objects that glitter in the light but are too difficult to make out from a distance. He slides them across the table top. Matthew and Ged look upon them first with disbelief then with horror. Matthew picks it up and looks at it closely. `` Are these forgeries?'' `` No I've already had them checked out these are the juggling daggers used by that fool jester we kept along with us on our journeys.'' Its him and he doesn't just want us gone he wants our history erased. I for one will be sleeping with my ax in hand waiting for when he comes. I suggest you two start sleeping with one eye open.'' said Jamnil scanning the far corners of the", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0143", "text": "you those batons for a reason, and you will use them, ” he warned. “ Now get to work, I have more pressing tasks at hand. ” ***** The beating changed nothing. Solitary confinement did little to change Cortez ’ temperament, either. Sanjeev decided to let the matter go. He knew how far a man like Cortez would take these little spats with authority. If Sanjeev continued to engage the man, the confrontations would escalate beyond a level with which Sanjeev was comfortable. Sanjeev had not been lying when he said that other tasks were more important. However, Sanjeev could not rid himself of a question that nagged at the back of his mind. Why did Cortez choose that phrase, and repeat it verbatim, like some misguided mantra? As far as he knew, since Cortez ’ conviction and sentencing to Boyle Island, the man had never uttered anything else. It ’ s just nonsense, Sanjeev chided himself, the man had decided to throw his life away just to murder another, then screwed that up. He ’ s broken. Sanjeev stared at the clock on the wall of his office, watching the seconds tick by. The question lingered. ***** The guards of Boyle Island were preparing themselves for another upheaval of leadership. It had only been three months since Warden Sanjeev had assumed control of the prison, and while the state of the prison had certainly improved, the Warden ’ s increasing affiliation with the prisoner, Cortez, was causing consternation among the ranks. Apparently, this worry was reflected higher up, as well. The Executive General himself was paying Cortez a visit today. The EG had never visited Boyle Island before, and so the guards assumed it was not a good omen. Nevertheless, excitement was in the air. They wanted to witness what the EG would do to address the Warden ’ s negligence in this area, and whether he would take affected by the Cortez Curse. Maybe he would have Cortez executed. God knows that ’ s what the guards would have wanted. Sanjeev had taken to walking the perimeter of the island ’ s wall once a week, accompanied by Cortez. The prisoner hobbled alongside the Warden as the Warden spoke to him. Cortez had walked with a limp since Sanjeev had the man beaten months ago. The guards had never been able to overhear the conversations; the W", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0144", "text": ". I stared into her face for a good fifteen seconds. No bells ringing. I was positive of that. In my job, it was absolutely vital that I remembered names and faces. `` How do you know me?'' I asked, taking the other earbud out. My pulse stayed high. Sweat dampened my various parts that get sweaty on a run. `` I... we were lovers. Will be? Fuck.'' She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, finally looking away from me. Her smile was sardonic. `` This is *really* hard to explain.'' `` Oh really?'' I couldn't keep the sarcasm out of my voice. This chick was somewhere bettween fifty and eighty, in that way a lot of homeless women look. No way in hell we'd ever been in bed. `` Not *now. * Later. Fuck. Please. Don't run away.'' `` Look,'' I said, glancing at the smartwatch on my wrist. `` I have to be at the office in two hours.'' `` Christopher Emmanuel Hodgson, I know you well. Please just hear me out?'' That one sent ripples down my spine. I never tell anyone my middle name. `` You snore,'' she continued. `` It's one of the reasons your first wife, god, uh... Casey? Left you. That and the not wanting kids thing.'' She started walking toward me again. `` You take your coffee black when you can't get espresso with milk. You... you only eat steak cooked well done, although you never told me why. And you love scuba diving. Especially in New Manchera Bay.'' `` No, ah, wrong,'' I finally 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0145", "text": "and Strange Magic started up. Next to him on the passenger seat, his cellphone blipped. He reached around the shotgun rack beside his MDC terminal and picked it up, glancing at the display. It wasn't a number he recognized, so he flipped it open and affected the'official tone.' `` Corporal McAdams,'' he said, announcing his police rank and last name as greeting. On the other end of the phone was only silence. He waited a beat, said, `` Hello?'' and then abruptly hung up. Not going to sit there crowing at nothing like a magpie. No time or patience for prank callers. Fuck'em. He set the phone back down and slowed for a red light ahead. His cruiser drifted to a stop behind a beat up old red pickup. The phone blipped again. McAdams picked it up again, and saw it was the same number. He scowled, flipped it open and said, `` McAdams!'' perhaps more loudly than he needed to. ``... Dad?'' a plaintive voice said. McAdams started and dropped the phone. `` What the-!'' that voice sounded just like Davey. He bent over awkwardly, his duty belt digging into a belly that his ex-wife had wished was a little less jelly-donut, sweeping his hand across the floor of the cruiser, blindly searching for the dropped phone. Just as his fingers found it, he heard it utter the'beedle-beep' of a disconnected call. He pulled it up towards his face, and was about to say something into it when he discovered a man standing just outside his patrol car's driver's side window. His heart leapt up into his throat, and he dropped the everfucking phone again. The man outside the window stared at him, smiling. It took McAdams a moment to gather himself, he'd been startled so badly. He rolled the window down and said, `` What are you doing, standing in the road like that, sir?'' and trying really hard to sound official. It didn't work too well. The man said nothing. Just stood there, staring. McAdams glanced over his thin and too-tall frame, noting the dirty dreadlocked hair, pasty white bony complexion, and odd-looking tophat he wore. The red band across the base of the tophat was worn and ripped in places, as", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0146", "text": "`` He looks so normal...'' A woman whispered; still loud enough to hear. `` This is before he snaps, what happened to him? He looks well enough. What happens in the next few weeks do you think?'' the second woman replied to the first. I've had the feeling that people were watching me for some time. Since my child hood, strangers have gawked and stared at me as if I were some sort of spectacle. I would catch people taking pictures of me in public, and would often be frightened by the staring eyes. My parents thought I was overreacting, and told me to ignore it. `` Why would they be staring at you honey?'' Why indeed. The women across from me were facing the opposite direction, but would casually glance at me over their shoulders when they thought I wasn't looking, but I was always watching them from the corner of my eye. They had entered the cafe shortly after I had, and they didn't order anything. Their focus was on me, and for once I had the courage to ask why. `` Excuse me. Why are you talking about me?'' I said to the strangers. `` Did he just -'' the first woman was interrupted by the second. `` What? No we aren't talking about you.'' Said the second, nervously. `` I heard you, just now. Why are you here watching me?'' I said, standing up now. As I stood from my chair the strangers shrieked. `` Don't hurt us, PLEASE!'' The first said, sprinting with the second towards the door. I was dumbstruck. They had obviously been here to see me, and yet they were terrified of me. After a moment of confusion, I noticed the women had left their cellphones and purses at the table in their hurried leave. I approached the table and picked up one of their cellphones, curiously. It was huge; wider and taller than my Galaxy Note, and thicker than my wallet. I could see the added thickness of the phone was in part due to an attachment that snapped onto the back. I popped it off and the inside read `` Verizon 2010-2020 mobile adapter.'' On the back of the phone itself read the phone's name as well. `` Samsung Universe 6X'' `` What in the fuck...'' I remarked. These devices made no sense. I kept up to date with most technology", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0147", "text": "the slight tremor in his grip, his breath against her face. Slowly, she leaned up, and gingerly pressed her lips against his for a moment. `` Johnny... could you let go of me...'' Her eyes widened as she felt his body press firmly against hers. `` Johnny?'' He said nothing, leaning down for another kiss... -- -- - -- -- - -- -... They laid there for a while, quietly soaking in the silence. She rested her head against his chest, slowly tracing her finger along his scar, listening to his breathing, to his heartbeat. `` I'm sorry Johnny.'' He shook his head slowly, eyes fixated upon the ceiling tiles. `` I was just being dumb.'' `` You could have told Brian. Told him how you... felt.'' He laughed softly at that. `` You know my brother. What he wants...'' He rolled onto his side, gently shifting Tessa off his chest, and lightly kissed her forehead. `` Besides, you two were always thick as thieves.'' ``... Still, Johnny... I just wish that you had just told me...'' He smiled, somewhat wistfully. `` Would that have really changed anything?'' ``...'' His smile slowly faded, as the silence grew... -- -- - -- -- - -- - AN: Sorry if there are any typos. Had to jot this down in notepad, since I don't have a word processor installed on the laptop. Originally wanted to do a more dramatic reveal with the clerical collar, but kinda ran outta time. Thanks for reading.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 320, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0148", "text": "I remember hearing about it on the news in the morning it happened. Everyone was calling it `` The Clearing.'' I had known something was wrong when I could feel the warm sunlight on my face in the morning right before getting up. I'll never forget rushing down the stairs, scrambling to put on my air-filtration mask, and bursting out the front door onto our lawn. I could see the Sun shining brightly in the sky, birds flying overhead, and mountains in the distance breaking the horizon in jagged peaks. I looked over the light blue fence into the Ericsons' yard and found them staring at the sky with similar looks of wonder and bewilderment. `` How did this happen?'' I questioned. Their youngest son Timmy was crawling around in the grass playing with their Scottish Terrier. `` Why is n't Timmy wearing his face mask?'' I exclaimed. `` They said it's safe to take off our face masks,'' Timmy's mother yelled back laughing. `` The air smells so fresh. The sky looks so beautiful,'' she sighed, closing her eyes and leaning on her husband's shoulder. That was a month ago, and things have n't been the same since. Ever since the government made face masks optional, more people have been walking outside without them. Once, I took off my mask for a few seconds and took a deep breath in, and I could n't tell the difference between the artificial fresh air our masks released and the natural fresh air. My mother scolded me when I told her, she said it was sinful and blasphemous. News channels and newspapers were all speculating absurd theories – a government experiment gone wrong, an extraterrestrial visit, the coming of the apocalypse. Even scientists were unsure how to explain the occurrence. Apparently, the global temperature was dropping rapidly and the Arctic Circle was rapidly freezing. My parents even said we could move back to the coast since the water levels from the coasts were receding at a faster pace than ever. But life goes on as normal – I still have to wake up early on weekdays to make the school bus, I still have to sit through boring classes like math and history, where I'll learn about algebra and how God created man on the seventh day, the day after he created the fog. Maybe he was the one who got rid of it.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 476, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0149", "text": "head in. He missed and hit me on the shoulder instead. Knowing I have to help him I got one of my guns loaded it and asked him to shot me. He missed from three feet away. I was starting to second guess him until he said that he had never killed a person before. Sitting Thomas down I learned that he was 32 and had no good idea what he would do with immortality but seeing as he had won and I am getting fed up we need to get on with this. I have agreed to type this up so that no one can say Thomas killed me without permission he will add onto this what he done to end me. Hi Thomas here so she's dead. Hold on I better check she is dead... Ye she's dead. So she told me I was to write down in this thing how I did it. I have learned that immortals are hard to kill, when I won I knew I would have to do it and once here I tried to bash her head in with a bit of pipe I brought along but for some reason the pipe moved and hit her shoulder. Then I shot her I know I aimed for her face but the bullet went around her. I got the impression that Gill did not really want to die or why would it be so hard. I had never killed anyone before but that was not stopping me. We spoke for a bit about her life and she finally said that maybe she was second guessing dying as it seemed so scary. Well if she had to be willing I was going to have to get inventive. Excusing myself I went out to the car brought in a lot of rope and tied her up, she was a small woman so easy to over power regardless of being immortal or not. Dragging her down to the basement I strung her up I found through trial and error I could not deal a killing blow but I would wound her and started cutting pieces from her or slicing deep into her flesh but they kept healing, she had really no intention of giving up her immortality so I kept hacking days and days passed. I hacked she healed, I hacked she healed until one day I knew she had given up as after I had cut off her hand the bleeding had continued. Seeing my opportunity I drove all twelve inches of my knife into heart giving a savage twist as the hilt hit her chest. I watched as her immortality moved from her into me. Now I am immortal and now I know how to kill them", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0150", "text": "collectives. This was quite a stupid idea, in fact, this entire conflict was stupid. This entire thing started when the Steves thought they were powerfull enough to bully the other local hives into naming their kids Steve aswell. But the Other hives disagreed and build an alliance. The Jessicas and Anns, the Maries and the Osamas and the Hanks and the Daves were now all fighting the Steves for no reason at all. I had brought an independent team here to sort things out between all hives. The ambassadors of the other hives were currently residing in other rooms, making backroom dealings and the like. Under my name, everybody had agreed that we could meet here to make such things. We were about 50 people in this building, all with different names, but for some reason, all hives thought they would send a female body with me. Well, actually, the reason was fairly obvious. Karurion, the other individual that was traveling with me and would have some say in the nagotiations, was probably the horniest man that had ever lived. 'How could you choose the collective?' The Hank asked. I knew I couldn't tell them, not jet, not in this situation. 'I don't know.' I lied,'my parents said I wouls be able to do it and gave me an explanation of how, but I forgot how to do it, never really thought of it.' The real way was quite simple: names, as it turns out, are on a fundamental level, nothing more that labels. This is something that never got into the heads of the hives. As an individual, you make your own name. This was actually the reason why my parents had the same name, they chose the mind link with each other out of love. 'Than how can you be cirtain?' The hank collective asked. 'Probably the foolishness of the individual.' I replied. The game I was playing was delicate, all the hives wanted me to support them, but in their foolishness, they failed to see that their goals were one and the same and not even only attainable by one, because, if one succeeded, the others would automaticly also succeed. Their goal was one global hive mind. And the despute was now basicly a combination of the fear of death and a branding dispute, though, in reality, it was only the later of the", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0151", "text": "I never really got on with my old man. He always seemed to regard me as a money sink, a thing that took his wife's attention away from him. I gave him what he wanted when I was sixteen; I left, with nothing but a laptop and some ID. I run my own little store now. I sell the hard-to-find parts that nobody else has. Some parts cost more to ship than they're worth, but people buy'em anyway. People will buy anything if they need it bad enough, at whatever price you want. `` Elastic demand'', I think it's called. I took pains to stay away from my dad. The longer he stayed out of my life, the better things seemed to go. I don't know if he brought trouble or trouble brought him, but they always came hand-in-hand. Yet, when he called me last night... something was different. He wanted to see me one last time. `` Before what?'' He didn't answer. `` Before what, Dad?'' ``... You know damn well before what.'' And he hung up the phone. I didn't sleep well that night. My dad was dying. I don't know from what. I don't know why. I don't know how long he has left. Insomnia slid its tentacles into my head, made me see things in the darkness. I could've swore... When I woke up, I saw a notification on my phone. A calendar warning for seven days hence. `` My Death'', it said. I couldn't delete it. I couldn't move it. It was marked as an all-day event. What, was I going to take twenty-four hours to die? I tried to shrug it off. Dismiss it as some strange prank. But not five minutes passed before I called my dad back and arranged a meeting. Maybe it wasn't him that was dying. Maybe it was me. -- -- - `` Yes. You've been cursed. I thought you knew.'' I stared at him with my mouth agape. Like curses were an everyday thing. Buy two gallons of milk, get a curse free. Cursemiles. Double your curses back when you buy groceries. `` You can't give it away, son. Someone has to take it from you. Willingly. Knowingly.'' `` You... my dad cursed me?'' He never cared for me, but he never *tr", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 490, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0152", "text": "course. How could I forget?'' The Hero had no idea what he was doing. `` The fleet commander, he said that you came to see me. D -- Does this mean that you've forgiven me? Does this mean you still love me?'' `` Hey, Hero,'' The Kid called from behind, `` It's open, should I press it now?'' `` Yes, uh, of course!'' The Hero said to the image on the screen. `` Great,'' the Resent said, doing its equivalent of crying, `` Then the war is off! I'll call the Galactic Federation and tell them that it's ov --'' Rexeland's victorious outburst was cut short by a synthesized voice coming from The Ship, `` Self-Destruct sequence initiated. Please proceed to one of the available escape pods. Destruction of ship will begin in 60, 59, 58...'' All color drained from The Hero's face as the countdown continued. `` I'll, uh, i'll be right back.'' This promise was subsequently followed by The Hero running away and screaming like a little girl, trying to catch up to The Kid who was already in an escape pod. The pod departed through a small chunk of open space that the Resents had neglected cover. Their escape was soon followed by a large explosion originating from The Ship that claimed the lives of all the Resents in the area. `` What,'' The Kid asked as The Hero glared at her, `` You told me to press it.'' They rode the rest of the way to their destination in quiet.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 317, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0153", "text": "enemy in a week, it had stopped raining, and we lost contact with command a long time ago. That meant we were on our own, but it also meant we didn't have to deal with objectives or goals. We just had to stay alive. Joe broke down the door of a convenience store to look for a twinkie, and the rest of us followed him in to find some more respectable food. We found a few packs of fritos, an arizona iced tea, but left the hot dogs as they were. We were about to walk out the door to enjoy our spoils, when Blake yelled back at me. `` There's something behind the counter. In the glass. It's a pack of something. Anybody know if I can eat it?'' I sprinted back inside. There's no way. There's no way they could still be here, still be ok. But as my eyes moved from the counter to the case behind it, I found them, that beautiful, sweet pack of cigarettes. I had never smoked before, but my dad used to spend hours telling stories about all the times he and his college buddies used to get together and smoke. He talked about porches and tables and dominoes and the way your head felt a ten feet off the ground when you breathed in that delicious poison. I smashed the glass, pulled the pack out, and ripped off the cellophane. No lighter. My fingers, shaking now, reached for the first cigarette. I shoved it in my mouth clumsily, nearly breaking the filter. I could taste something, something incredible on my lips. I whipped out my pistol and fired a round into the air. My squad jumped and screamed, ran out of the gas station like girls - girls who had never smoked a cigarette. I could hear some ancient AC/DC riff dancing through my head as I shoved the end of my cigarette onto the hot metal at the end of my pistol. That first drag, that first damn drag, hit me like hell. I took a few more and nearly fell on my ass. Tobacco doesn't treat newbies well. That was just fine with me. I stumbled outside and passed six cigarettes out. I turned my back and walked toward the river as I heard six gunshots fire into the air. My lips formed a quiet smirk as the smoke rolled off my tongue.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 481, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0154", "text": "didn't dare leave the line even for a moment. Lucky she didn't need food. The woman pursed her lips, her grey hair bobbing as she reviewed Marie's forms. As the days passed and they moved from the living room, to the kitchen, to the bathroom, Marie gradually started smiling, and the woman started frowning. `` Fine, Marie Levesque! Take your damned forms!'' Marie smiled. `` Nice trap Nancy, but you need to re-write that one out as Marie Levesque-Hammond, or you know I won't pass the final floor.'' Nancy looked as if she'd like to turn Marie into dust, but instead muttered under her breath and re-filled out the form to allow Marie to go to the next floor. Marie thanked her lucky stars that that was an employee mistake and strode up to the next floor with her briefcase in hand. The final floor wasn't designed like an office, with outdated technology and an air that made you want to jump off a building, if it wasn't so much effort to do so. This floor made you want to run and hide. The demon behind the desk wasn't hidden; he was eleven foot tall, with bulls horns and a scored red hide. Marie walked up to him with trepidation. `` Mervin, here are my Application To Vacate Hell forms, co-signed by another demon and stamped on pages 33, 179 and 812.'' Mervin reviewed the form. Marie sat down. This was going to be a *long* night. It wasn't a long night; instead it was eleven long nights, the click of Mervin's pen and the crescendo of the lava behind them being the only sounds. Finally, he was done. `` Go. You've won. You get to go to heaven.'' Marie skipped up the steps, ascending a thousand flights of stairs as she headed to Heaven. Finally, she reached the pearly gates. `` Oh, a transfer? Hi Marie, I'm Peter and I'll be your guide around Heaven.'' `` What form do I have to sign? A R4/82RD23? A 9T/HKO3?'' `` No form, you just get accepted here.'' Marie collapsed to the ground, sobbing with the joy that her days of bureaucracy were finally over.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 477, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0155", "text": "Carey had grown from small to tall in view of the woods behind her nana's trailer. Ma was usually working, or drinking, or yelling at daddy, and nana herself had died some years back ( but it was still, and would always be, nana's trailer, said Ma ), and so Carey would gather sticks and throw rocks and apply as much imagination as a child of average intelligence could muster to the trailer's brown, scrubby yard. Carey was a brown, scrubby child, so she felt at home in the yard, and in the other yards in the park, shuttling between them with the other children like a ragtag flock of confused, dirty geese. Sometimes one of the older children would gather the little ones around and reveal from within a crumpled paper bag a large glass bottle filled with yellow liquid, and would call it beer, and try to make the others have a taste. Carey, who had what her nana had once called owl eyes, had seen what the drink called beer had done to daddy, and to ma, and had also seen the older children crowded around the bottle, one of the boys with his pants around his knees, so she refused a sip and took her beating from the others with both fists raised. The children got into scuffs weekly, daily during the oppressive summer months, over smuggled beer, or cat taunting, or just plain boredom. These were children at whom teachers tutted, from whom nicer children from town backed away, on whom lice and sores could regularly be found. None of the trailer park children ventured into the woods behind nana's trailer. The woods were known by all, in that park and the one down the road and likely by the parks on the other side of the leafy expanse, to be off limits. No ballsy youth nor drunken divorcee nor curious child was foolhardy, inebriated or unloved enough to venture into the dark thicket of tangled brambles and branches. Once, Carey had asked Ma why they didn't go through the woods to visit Aunt Jan, nana's sister's daughter, who had a clean trailer and hugged Carey when they saw each other at Christmas. Ma had shook her head, the way she did at fancy envelopes from the state and at daddy when he said he had a lead on a job. `` Don't nobody go into those woods who wants a chance at coming out", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0156", "text": ". 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 maneuvering like I won't catch feelings and hope that I could actually be his girlfriend, and that all the girls wouldn't treat me like shit after seeing him giving me attention. It was cruel in hindsight, harmless in the moment. `` Well, I just hope she's alright. It's freezing out here.'' I muttered under my breathe. He saw me starting to shiver when the wind blew, and responded,'' Do you want my jacket? I'm fine.'' No you asshole, I don't want your pity attention. `` S....sure, thanks.'' He wrapped his warm coat over me, and lightly cuddled with me on the bench, like the unaware douche bag he was. I hated him, but I was warm. I sat with him for about 10 more minutes until my mother arrived, and I had just remembered I was freaking out about her moments ago. Trevor completely erased my worry, so quickly I forgot something might have actually happened to her. She jumped out of the BMW, apologizing profusely, going on about her car randomly dying on the highway. Trevor smirked, and I elbowed him in his side, laughing to myself. Just before I got in the car, and right as my mom turned her back, Trevor whipped me around and gave me a light kiss right on my forehead. `` Wh... what the hell was that for?'' I asked, slightly angered while my heart was racing. `` Well I thanked the car..... might as well thank you too. You can keep my jacket till tomorrow Sarah, I'll get it back from you after 2nd period.'' he said, looking towards the entrance of the school as his sister pulled into the loop. `` But", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0157", "text": "The explosion rang throughout the city. I could hear the collective screaming of everyone who suddenly disappeared. Why did it leave me? Why was I the only one left? My parents, my uncles, everyone I have ever known and loved. Gone. I was the only one left. I could n't believe that it would do this. That Gozerian was a real piece of shit. I was the last remaining the survivor of the catastrophe of New York. I walked for hours trying to find another life form. I searched dad's firehouse, and our old apartment building, there was no one to be found. I searched dad's firehouse, hoping to at least find Mr. Tully, I was positive that he could have survived. All I found were his crushed glasses. I headed downstairs to the containment grid and just found a mess of ectoplasm and rubble. I knew that all the ghosts had been freed by the explosion, but now that everyone in New York, including the Ghostbusters, was missing or probably dead, there was not one to re contain the free roaming spirits. That was twenty years ago. The city slowly but surely rebuilt itself, and now I, Oscar Barret-Venkman, am the leader of a new team of Ghostbusters, and I'll pull Gozer out of that shithole he climbed into and I'll avenge my parents, my uncles, and all of New York, and hopefully find a way to bring everyone back.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 301, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0158", "text": "The smell was abrasive, but it took me back to the long lazy summers of my youth. Struggling to fill the seemingly endless space between noon and 2 am as a 14 year old in the summer, and then the chaos of trying to dress and get ready for school in 3 minutes after oversleeping. Zack's room had an aroma like pancakes left in a gym bag. Having the day off and knowing that Jenny would be home early on a half work day from her job as an anesthesiologist injected me with a sudden motivation to clean up. If she walked in to a house looking like this, she would kill me. I started to pick clothes up off of the floor with the apprehension of a bomb squad. Even his hamper, was a mess of twisted wire and mesh, I felt like a bad provider. The Jimi Hendrix poster on the wall juxtaposed to a poster of some emo band named `` The Slow Harvest'' filled me with a emotional cocktail of pride and shame. I had most of the clothes picked up, I looked around and was satisfied in the same way that a double-amputee would be in a clean room. You could at least see the floor now, but next was the scariest realm... the dark shroud beneath his bed. I reached in and pulled out a mostly empty bottle of Dr. Pepper, a few wrappers from Slim Jims and Jolly Ranchers, and then... dread. I felt the binding of a few magazines. I tentatively moved them out into the light, grateful that I had found them and hot his mother. I don't know why I thought they would be porno mags... kids these days just stream live fetish porn anyway. It was comic books, something I had never gotten into as a youth, and kind of wish I did. I flipped through one issue for a few pages before having something slip out. It was a condom wrapper, a used condom wrapper. I opened up the magazine to have a few more fall out. It must of been that sweet girl Carly he was with... she seemed so harmless. `` That's my boy'' I thought to myself as I realized the dust on the comics in contrast to the pile of condom wrappers. Not only was he having fun, he was being safe, I felt good for having the talk with him 5 years ago when he was 11. I returned things to their rightful place and grabbed his car-w", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0159", "text": "Slowly, the seasons changed. Winter turned into summer which slowly turned into winter again. It had been years since the humans left the planet, and it had finally begun to heal from the damage done to its environment. Deep within a forest that used to be a farm, within the continent that the humans referred to as Ireland, a ray of sun hit a solitary potato plant slowly growing across the ground. It stretched it's leaves languidly, instinctually reaching out to the sunlight. slowly. Over years, a single thought passed through it's leafy body. It was in a language of sunlight and water, of minerals and soil, but we may translate it as'Why.' Then, as the thought passed through it, it stopped suddenly. It's body began to move, the controlling cells filled with sudden electrical activity that was not there before, and it thought. `` Why do I reach for the sunlight? Why do I need the nutrients? Why, Why Why?'' It stretched it's roots out over miles, searching for answers, but none came. The roots stretched around concrete bunkers, through computers, but it never realized that some of the answers it sought might be within these foreign structures. It's roots found other potato plants, but they, to, were foreign to it, complacent to simply seek sunlight and water and survive. As it realized this, another thought struck it. `` Why do I exist?'' While it pondered this question that many a human had pondered, that civilizations across the universe searched for without finding an answer, it's roots stretched across the planet, choking off all other life on the planet. Two millennia later, it realized the truth. `` Life is pointless... I am point－'' At this exact moment, the roots that had spread across the galaxy in search of additional recourses reached the sun. Instinctually, they began trying to drain the sun's minerals. Though the force-shielded roots were able to withstand these temperatures, they absorbed the superheated plasma, causing it to pour throughout the inside of the potato and burning it to carbon. ___________________________________________________________________ Colony Ship # 4425, The 3rd ship sent to see if earth was habitable again, reached the Sol System, and stopped in surprise. The crew all froze, staring at the sight in front of them. The entire system was a large organic organism, clearly having died at least 2 years prior to the ship's arrival,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0160", "text": "`` *What do you mean I can't get another refill*?'' I muttered in annoyance. The Dr. Jackson's face was stern and he seemed concerned. What was it? Sixth? Ninth time I've gotten an extension on my sleep meds? I guess I'd be concerned too if I was him. `` *Look, Mr. Davis. I can't give you any more of the medication. It was suppose to be a temporary solution for your insomnia, but a permanent one. Perhaps I could refer you to a pscyh*-'' I sighed and muttered a curse under my breath as I took my coat and left the room. I didn't want to waste more time with him; I had bigger plans for my evening. I headed out the door of the doctor's office and fumbled for my keys as I walked to my truck. It was about four in the afternoon now, and it'd take me a good hour to get home through rush hour traffic. I rubbed my eyes as I got in the driver seat, thinking about the dreams again. The sooner I get home, the sooner I can get into bed and the sooner I can get back to it. It'll be faster once I get on the highway. It started about four months ago after the accident at work. Something fell from the conveyors overhead and I was in the way. Out like a light. The first time I was there, it only felt like a couple hours, but even then it wasn't enough. I relived moments from high school but I was doing better than real life though. My grades were great, and I was way more popular. I even got a date to the prom and we were crowned king and queen. It was great to have control of my life, even if it was just a dream. I just thought it was a lucent dream that I've read about. One of those `` once in a blue moon'' thing- `` *SHIT! The Blue Moon Cafe! *'' The small diner swishes by as my left hand flicks the turn signal immediately and I swerve into the lane next to me and onto the off-ramp. The car behind me brakes hard, pounds the horn, and raises his unappreciative finger to me as I wave an apologetic hand back. It wasn't all the time at first. Tops maybe two or three times a week, but slowly they became more frequent, and", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0161", "text": "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 for us to do? What happens when we kill them off?'' 6 could barely sit still he was shaking so much. I looked around the room, 9 unfamiliar faces who had become my family. I cared about them, but how much longer could that last. `` Our friends are out there. Our families too! Who cares if we live another 7 days. We have to put them to rest. That is the risk that I am willing to take, but if you aren't, sit pretty under your little number. It is time to take our Earth back, no matter the cost.'' Everything froze. 10 was the only one moving. He gave me a little slow clap and a *bravo*. He began to circle the table in his luxurious pinstripe suit, but everybody else was stuck in place. He reached 9 and with a little flick, turned her number **red**. `` You couldn't have possibly thought you were the real *number 1* could you?'' I tried to utter out a cry, but I was paralyzed. Who is he? He went down the line and stopped at each person. `` 8, what a waste of power!'' **RED** `` 7, he barely speaks'' **RED** `` 6, well I actually quite liked him, but nevertheless'' **RED** `` 5 may be beautiful, but her brain is definitely not helping anybody out here'' **RED** I was furious, straining to move, but nothing. `` Don't struggle honey, It won't get you anywhere.'' He kept his charade up. `` 4, She and I were actually seeing eachother... hmph, oh well", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 493, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0162", "text": "Like every other morning I got woken up by my dog, Max. He certainly knew what to do when he wanted food. I got out of bed and could hear the coffee machine already buzzing as it created my coffee. I went to the bathroom, closely followed by Max, who, obviously as a dog, wanted food. I finished my personal chores and gave Max his breakfast, a nice piece of beef. I was drinking my coffee and walking to the door. `` Hmm, lots of mail today'' I said to myself. One of the letters caught my attention, it had golden lining and the paper was more like parchment, on the front, my address and a wax stamp saying'Salve', no idea what that mean however. I opened the letter and started reading. *Dear Archie* *He survived* The handwriting was peculiar, messy, *unclear* is a beautiful sort of way, it was flowing. `` He survived'' I whispered under my breath. I looked at the back of the paper and no return address was there, no send address, just mine, the recipient. I had no clue who survived, or who sent the message. I haven't lost anyone in my family, nobody was in the hospital, I was living a happy life... But I never met my biological father, he had left my brothers, my mom and I on the house and dissapeared when I was born. After quietly thinking by myself I headed to the post office. I gave them the letter, which had a stamp, no clue if I mentioned that, it had a stamp dating 1796, quite old, I am unsure how it was even sent on todays post. The person on the counter said that letter was left on a letterbox, therefore they dont know who sent the letter. ''Thanks!'' I said and left, the post office once again prooved useless. I walked back home, the rain had started pouring fast now and I had to protect the parchment paper. I sat on my couch and read the letter again and again, the handwritting was becoming more and more recognisable, the letters more vibrant and so much clearer, `` He survived'' said the voice in my head, `` He survived'', the voices inside my head kept repeating those two words. It must've been an hour now and the letters were now imbedded in my head, I put the letter down, closed it, and walked off. I", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0163", "text": "hug, and turned to face her. `` It was five years ago, Tess. I'm fine now.'' `` I... I read it, Johnny. Your... goodbye.'' She looked up at him, eyes red and shimmering in the dim lighting. `` Oh Johnny, why didn't you just say something...'' `` I was just being dumb. It doesn't matt-'' Her slap rang out sharply in the cavernous room, and he reached out to touch his reddening cheek, a look of shock playing across his face. `` Don't you pull that shit with me, John. I've known you and your brother for too long for you to start with that dismissive talk.'' John sighed, and turned towards a nearby closet. `` If you would just go now, I need to get rea-'' He could hear her rush forward, and whirled about, catching her hand mid-swing. He lifted her, somewhat roughly, and shoved her against a nearby wall, all the while keeping his eyes locked with hers. `` Stop. That.'' She lashed out with a foot, trying to kick him in the shin, but felt him use his leg to pin hers against the wall. `` Fuck you John, you TALK-'' She swung with her other hand and landed another slap. `` -to me!'' She made to swing again with her free hand, but Johnny hurriedly grabbed it and pinned it above her head with her other hand. `` Behave yourself,'' he growled, leaning in until their noses were almost touching. `` Calm down, and don't try that again.'' They stood there for a while, saying nothing. She could feel his raising pulse, the slight tremor in his grip, his breath against her face. Slowly, she leaned up, and gingerly pressed her lips against his for a moment. `` Johnny... could you let go of me...'' Her eyes widened as she felt his body press firmly against hers. `` Johnny?'' He said nothing, leaning down for another kiss... -- -- - -- -- - -- -... They laid there for a while, quietly soaking in the silence. She rested her head against his chest, slowly tracing her finger along his scar, listening to his breathing, to his heartbeat. `` I'm sorry Johnny.'' He shook his head slowly, eyes fixated upon the ceiling tiles. `` I was just being dumb.'' `` You could have told", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0164", "text": "St. Peter showed me a picture of a square. The answer choices were `` circle'' or `` triangle.'' `` Your Holiness, are there more answer choices?'' `` No, son, those are the two: circle or triangle. Would you like the choices in another language?'' `` English is fine. Thanks. I need more time.'' St. Peter nodded and stood patiently while I continued to ponder. I was sure I wanted to get this one wrong. I looked at St. Peter's benevolently paternal smile, and felt disgust. Was heaven full of these fools? And depressingly sinless. Hell sounded kinky and fun. `` Your Holiness, a hint?'' `` I'm sorry. That's all the information I can give. You sure you do n't want it in another language.'' `` Thank you, but English is fine.'' I started to reason -- well, God is Trinity ( Father, Son, and Holy Spirit ), so maybe the correct answer is triangle? So I must say circle. `` Circle.'' `` Congratulations! Welcome to heaven.'' `` Wait, what? Does n't the triangle represent Trinity?'' `` Yes, but that's what all the smug church nerds would pick. Those self-righteous bastards go to hell. Wait, did you *not* want to get into heaven?'' `` No, I did n't.'' St. Peter's smile disappeared and his brow furrowed, and he looked down. Glumly he said, `` Well, it's too late now.'' Then his eyes narrowed, he looked up, and in a low voice he growled, `` It might be heaven for us, but for you it is hell. Get your ass in there. Your first task is to smell the flowers the angels picked for you. Smell them for 10,000 years.'' *Shit. *", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 381, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0165", "text": "Song!'' People were cautiously slipping through the crowd toward the gates. Each time, the angel with the clipboard nodded and the warriors let the named human pass through. But the crowd was getting more restless. `` We're not just going to stand out here forever!'' yelled a clean-cut executive type. He looked a bit unhinged between his expensive suit in disorder, days of stubble, and a wide-eyed expression. He gestured angrily at the gatekeeper but shrunk back when a few warrior angels glared at him. `` Your position is already occupied,'' said the gatekeeper in a weary tone. I got the feeling he had been through this a few times already. `` Management is working on the problem, but for the time being you'll just have to wait. Anaya Patil! Nabil Hajar!'' `` That's not going to cut it,'' said another man close to the first. I had a momentary sarcastic thought about how similar business types looked before realizing they were the same person. Now that I was looking, the crowd had quite a few sets of duplicates. They mostly looked well-to-do, wearing expensive business clothing. One strangely familiar woman stood out with fifteen or twenty copies wearing a variety of severely-cut suits. Then I recognized her as a frequent teleport traveler and I suddenly realized what was going on. That happened right about when the gatekeeper, studiously ignoring the troublemakers in the crowd, called out, `` Christopher Miller!''. He froze for a moment and then scanned the surrounding mob. All of the warriors were looking around curiously as well. For a moment I had a flickering hope that I was about to be on the other side of the gates with Anaya and Habil. I could still see them, emptying their pockets and bags for another group of warriors. Never thought I would be longing to tangle with the celestial TSA. Then the gatekeeper spotted me and his eyes narrowed. He picked a few warriors out of the ring of guards and pointed toward me. `` Bring him here.'' I started backing up as they advanced. `` Do you have any idea what you've done?'' the gatekeeper asked. `` Any idea what a mess this has been? Dumping duplicates on our doorstep day after day, without anywhere to put them?'' `` We didn't know,'' I said. What else was there to say? `` We had no idea.'' `` These are good people!'' the gate", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0166", "text": "the direction I was going. The stranger yelled as I walked away. “ Wait! ” he cried. I had definitely heard that voice somewhere, but I couldn ’ t quite put my finger on it. My head turned once more towards him, and he took off the glasses and hat. My jaw dropped. The stranger was… me. The lines in his ( my? ) put him ( me? ) at several years older than me, but the shape of his face, his eyes, the color of his hair, and his expression was exactly what I ’ ve seen in the mirror my whole life. I started, and blurted out “ What kind of sick joke is- “ the man suddenly jumped from the shadows, cut me off by putting his finger over my lips in a shushing motion, and grabbed me by the tie and pulled me into the alley. “ Look, there isn ’ t much time, ” the man muttered in a rapid tone, “ Yes, I ’ m you from the future. Just don ’ t question it. The new Star Trek series sucked. Sorry. It was a big letdown. Pull your stocks out of Google right now. ” I stared at the man ( probably me ) with a blank expression. He had my own knowing but slightly amused expression all across my face as I sputtered. He had perfectly nailed my “ what would I do to verify myself to a past instance of myself if I was a time traveler ” questions. ( Don ’ t you even try to tell me you ’ ve never thought of these sort of things before. ) He looked directly into my eyes with a serious look, swallowed, and said, “ So I ’ m back here because it turns out 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0167", "text": "John grumbled under his breath, `` No kidding.'' Destiny bolted upright from the living room couch. `` What was that?'' `` Nothing, honey,'' John replied louder than necessary. `` I know what Nothing is, dear,'' Destiny-slash-Satan said. `` I was cast like lightning to fall from Heaven into the nothing that is Hell, where I reigned for over two-thousand years in darkness with naught but demons and the damned to keep me company.'' John didn't stop washing the dishes. `` I know you're tired, honey, but even your sisters weren't that bad.'' `` Are you even listening to me?'' Destiny/Satan demanded. John recited, monotone, `` Lightning and falling, Heaven and Hell, reigning in darkness and demons and damned.'' He stopped washing for a minute. `` You're not talking about work, are you? This isn't about Eric being promoted over you to head of HR?'' Behind John's back, Destiny/Satan glowed with hellfire that basked the living room in flickering red light and shadow. `` You know,'' John continued, `` you haven't gotten a raise in a while. How long have you been there before we met? Four? Five years?'' Destiny/Satan's eyes glowed furious white. `` I arrived upon this mortal plane to collect the souls of the damned to reinforce my cursed armies in preparation for the ensuing siege on Heaven's gates.'' John rinsed and put away a few plates in the drainer. `` Thus why I deleted my Reddit account,'' he quipped. `` John...'' Destiny/Satan marched from the crimson-lit living room tracking fiery footsteps behind her, moving fast but seemingly slow at the same time. `` Honey... Dear... Sweet, sweet dear...'' `` Holy shit,'' John remarked. `` I haven't heard that tone of voice since the first time we had wild sex.'' The man turned. `` Are we gon na --'' He saw. `` Uh.'' He swallowed. `` You seem a little... mad.'' Destiny/Satan got up in her boyfriend's face, asking, `` Am I? Really, am I, dear sweet John? Did I have to turn into my demonic form for you to finally notice my feelings?'' `` Well, no...'' John looked away, but his girlfriend raised a finger tipped in green hellfire to turn his face back to hers. `` I mean, I", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0168", "text": "The message flashed on my new smartphone's screen as I drove spiritedly through the mountains above Los Angeles, enjoying the endless twisting roads and crisp spring air. Being a somewhat responsible driver, I pulled my little roadster onto the nearest shoulder and opened the text. `` New Mission Available. Accept? [ Yes ] / [ No ].'' My brow furrowed in confusion. What kind of mission exactly? I could handle picking up some groceries, but anything else was a bit above my level of expertise. *Well, I not doing much right now anyway*, I thought to myself. With the tap of the green [ Yes ] icon, a new screen popped up showing a map and single directive: `` Go to location A and retrieve package.'' Location A appeared to be only a few miles away, tucked even farther into the valley that I had been driving along. I placed the phone back down and threw my car into gear, flogging it down into the gaping valley with reckless abandon. As the engine screamed through every straight and the tires squealed around every corner, my mind drifted to the package. What could it be? A bundle of weapons was likely, a cache of drugs was more so. Only now did the potential danger of the situation begin to dawn on me, and the idea of turning around and fleeing seemed more and more intelligent. Suddenly I was there, my GPS marking me just beyond the destination. All around were massive trees which blocked out the sun and cast the forest in near darkness, obscuring my view of the single ramshackle cabin sitting just beyond the treeline. I exited my car and slowly, tentatively walked to the edge of the treeline, peering into a cobweb covered window of the cabin. From within emanated the creaks and groans of movement on a wooden floor; someone was in there. `` Hey!'' I called out. `` I'm here for the package!'' For a moment the creaking stopped, then resumed at a fevered pace until the front door of the old cabin cracked open. From it emerged not a gun-toting arms dealer or a bloodshot-eyed tweaker, but instead one of the most jaw-droppingly gorgeous young women I had seen in my short life. Her pale skin and blonde hair glowed warm against the shadows, somehow pushing them back. Her fragile and slender figure moved with graceful ease down the rickety log steps of the cabin, and her brilliant green eyes filled", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0169", "text": "... ... She was shaking, I was too, he was dead. Blood on my hands, I hoped there was still light behind my eyes. I never killed a man before, I never had to save someone before. I did n't feel good, or mighty. She broke, slumped to the ground, her body, a tremor as she sobbed. I dropped the knife, I turned to look at what I had done. She shouted my name through tears. He had so much red on his stomach, his throat was open too. I did that? I did that, I had to. I said as much out loud. Again she shouted my name. I could n't touch her though. She is so white, and I have n't decided if now I am dark. I did n't feel tainted, my heart was still beating so fast. I took a long hard breath, he is dead and so is his intent, we are alive because I would not allow him to have his way. Again she shouts, but I'm deep in thought. Another long breath. I came to a conclusion. I killed a man today, I did the right thing, I beat him to the punch, and I'm still here and I still have to take care of her. I told her to stand, nicely, I offered her a meek smile, and apologized for what she had seen and what I had to do. I started to explain why, but fuck it, she ca n't hear anything, *she's in shock Boone, get her inside*. I walk her up the street, she remembers she ca n't walk in heels. She sees the life on my hands, and that sets her off again. We go inside a shitty mexican restaurant. I sit her down, I go to wash my hands. I do it with my closed, I'm not sure if I wan na look at the guy who looks back at me above the sink. I'm not sure if I wan na be the voice on the phone to the police. I puke in the sink, maybe some got on my shoes. What the hell am I doing?", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 439, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0170", "text": "hell..'' He said as he looked back at her and the blood-stained seats she lay on. `` How did that even happen?'' He asked. `` I don't..I don't know..I didn't think it hit that hard..'' She said as tears streamed down her face. Their car began to speed up even more as her father laid his foot firmly on the gas. **''... Why I had to do this. I know there's a lot I'll miss. `` ** As they wandered along the back woods behind her house, she could feel the intense beat of her heart, as if it was to pop out of her chest at any moment. She knew why he had brought her out here. `` It's beautiful, isn't it?'' He asked as they reached the end of the treeline. They looked out into the horizon, and as far as their eyes could see, there was a lush, lively meadow of green. `` It really is.'' She replied, smiling widely. He could see the smile and shot one back of his own. They both giggled. `` Why did you bring me out here?'' She asked, though she already knew. `` You know why, Sab. You told me you'd never been kissed before.'' He said as he leaned in, gently resting his hands on her shoulders and turning her so she faced him. `` If it was going to happen anywhere, it might as well be here.'' He said with a smile. She blushed. **''... Like the bond of lovers. `` ** `` I'm here!'' Shouted Timothy in his jagged, amplified voice that crackled across the room like thunder. The nurses snapped to him in an instant. `` This way.'' Said one of them as she lead him down the hospital halls. The tears streamed from his eyes and down his face like rain, though he wasn't about to let himself start howling. Eventually, they arrived to her room, room 13C. The nurse gently pulled back the curtain as Timothy walked in, looking over his wife as she lay in her bed, various pieces of hospital equipment surrounding her. `` She looks so peaceful'', he thought. It was still hard for him to grasp. Here she lay. The mother of his children. The grandmother of his grandchildren. The love of his life. The woman he shared every moment with, for all of 60 long years. No", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0171", "text": "Years of watching action stars grit and grin through the pain of a gunshot gave Bill hope in those last seconds. Each breath betrayed the blood gurgling up his lungs like a ship sprung a leak. Reality set in when he tried to stand and chase his attacker. Reality set in when he realized no one would be there to share this last moment with him. No last words. No polite fictions that he will be fine. Just him alone in an alley he never took until tonight to see if it would save him thirty seconds on the way home. Bill did not expect the pound as if struck by a hammer in his chest. He did not expect the searing heat of the metal cauterizing the edges of the neat crater it pocked above his heart. He did not expect the haggard addict to actually have the gun he promised. He did not expect his life to come down to a wallet with $ 21 crumbled bills and a bunch of plastic cards that would have been a red-tape hassle to replace. He did not expect his years of Church and Kindness to amount to only a seating upgrade. Bill laughed when he learned that Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory are just fire and brimstone synonyms for First Class, Economy, and Business. The only reward a good life will get you is more legroom on the inter-celestial express and a tiny bottle of water to sip while you wait to be processed at the gates. Bill now reconsidered his morality and mortality as he sits boxed in by a car full of priests, rabbis, and monks. He breathes deeply finally having settled into his seat. A flock of old men fighting to square away gilded coffins of knickknacks, each one arguing their cargo is more precious than the others. Only the Buddhists know how to pack. “ Excuse me, ” Bill said. He climbed over a ninety-year old nun clutching rosary beads and whispering to the man she was going to meet. Despite death, his stomach rumbled. He wondered what they would serve in the dining car. Nectar of the gods? He would rather steak. Bill sat down in a booth in the crowded car and when the waitress gave him a menu he was happy to see a Ribeye listed. That and a beer and he might nap his way to eternal bliss. Dying is hungry work, and Bill sat hunched over the cow flesh. He looked out the", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0172", "text": "The morning was overcast, a confusing illusion of alternating brights and darks that made everyone waking up straighten in panic at the *afternoon light* shining through their window. The first licks of fall crisp peppered at the window of a taxi puttering through crowded streets, stray medleys of red and golden leaves crackling under the tires ’ tread. Inside it a woman was adjusting her corrective lenses, craning her neck over a slight stain on the passenger seat in front of her to peer out ahead. “ Turn here, please? ” She asked. The driver nodded, making a sharp right in to the entrance of an alley lined with multistory layers of graying brick and concrete. “ How much? ” She inquired, opening the gleaming black leather of her handbag. “ Twenty-two, ” huffed the driver, “ but this isn ’ t where you wanted to go, ma ’ am. ” “ It ’ s fine, ” she said, handing him a bill. From outside, someone would have seen two things of interest: a middle-aged woman wearing business attire stepping awkwardly out of a taxi, preparing to carry her handbag and a single briefcase in to the shaded uncertainty of a Chicago back-alley; a taxi driver, staring equally with suspicion and shock at a fresh one-hundred-dollar bill. “ Ma ’ am, ” the driver said with annoyance, “ this is too much. I can ’ t break this. ” “ Oh, ” she said, adjusting her glasses again to peer at the bill, “ is that a bad thing? ” The driver thought about this. His conscience wrestled with his suspicion, until avarice jumped in to the fray and stole the victory. “ No, ” he said, “ that ’ s fine. Have a pleasant day miss... miss... ” The woman opened the handbag with a flicking wrist, briefly glancing at its contents. The driver ’ s face fell by a fraction of an astronomical unit. “ Mrs. Scharre, ” she said, closing the handbag. “ Have a niceness day. ” Mrs. Scharre winced at the linguistic error, closed the door, and walked off at a brisk *step-step-wobble-step*. The driver took no notice, and sped off before she changed her mind. Ten minutes later Mrs. Scharre was sitting at the end of a conference table, unclasping her briefcase and", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0173", "text": "He did n't know who he was supposed to be this time. The landscape around him was green and full of tropical trees. The ground was muddy, the wind blew hard, and in the far distance he could see a river. He could hear trumpets, he could hear roaring, but only softly so. Nobody was around him, though he wore heavy armour along with a sword and shield, as well as a helmet. A lone warrior was an uncommon thing. He placed his hand on the helmet. Phrygian? He guessed he was in a battle, but he could n't see the men around him. Sometimes he thought he saw faint ghastly visions of a magnificant army with grand pikes marching past him, but they were n't real, just figments of his imagination. Across him was an Indian. He marched confidently, but without as much armour. India? He looked at his hands. White as could be. Odd. He marched forwards as well, but then stopped. He did n't know why he had marched forward or stopped. The Indian stopped as well, but after a short pause he roared and charged at him. He could hear orders being faintly shouted and the sound of a massive stampede coming towards him. The Indian charged blindly, without much sense. As the Indian warrior was about to crash into him, he lifted his shield to prevent himself from being knocked over and buried his sword in the Indian's stomach. The landscape disappeared. Time for the next one. So many..", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 310, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0174", "text": "These days never get easier. Actually, the days I like, that ’ s when I get to rest. It ’ s when the sun goes down that things start to bother me. You see that kid above me? Cute kid, good with his parents, and never causes any problems. I ’ ve seen him outgrow his crib and move into this racecar bed with flames down the side. It ’ s a good upgrade from the cramped space under the crib, let me tell ya. I haven ’ t seen the kid much outside of this room; the truth is I ’ m not allowed anywhere else. Boss ’ s rules, not his. I don ’ t mind though, the view is good and I can hear everything in this small house which makes me feel like I ’ m part of the family. I like to think he turned out alright since he gets such good rest at night, but I wouldn ’ t want to take too much credit. To be honest, I ’ ve never actually met the kid. When he first moved into the new bed, his father was in here just before the lights went out. For what seemed like months the father would come in and listen to the boy talk about his fear of me, the Boogeyman. He would come in and say: “ Taylor, buddy it ’ s alright. The lights go out, but everything is fine. ” To which the boy would say “ But dad I know he ’ s in here ”. “ It ’ s just your mind playing games with you. I knew we shouldn ’ t have let you watch the movies with mom and I last Halloween. ” The dad said jokingly with a smile on his face. Taylor didn ’ t want his 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0175", "text": "from my pocket only to raise my collar over my neck, swiftly returning it to the warmth. My thoughts eased back into my conscious, removing any thought into the present, and allowing muscle memory to carry me along the street once again. I had been to college once, I had spent time into my 20's there, trying to learn a craft that could give me the future I wanted. I don't remember what motivation really is, but I think I had it then. I remember the man being there, faint echoes of his words urging me on, the conviction in his voice enough to raise the dead to do charity. I remember him being surrounded by people that seemed like they truly loved him, and wondering how he had come so far in life, and how he always seemed... happy, and hopeful. The splash of a puddle next to me, and the car that caused it driving the opposite direction, drew me from my thoughts once again. I looked at my cigarette, and chuckled softly. My muscle memory had served my addiction well, and I had already smoked most of my coffin nail without realizing it. I took another long puff and thought again of the face. I couldn't put my finger on where I met the man before, and I was getting perturbed by my lack of memory. I thought hard, the cold stimulating my thought process. I rounded the corner to my apartment door, temporarily forgetting the man I had seen so full of life. I spent some time getting ready for bed, the night already late from the time I had spent out nursing beer. While in my covers and staring at my ceiling, bracing for another sleepless night, I shut my eyelids, hoping that for once my brain would allow me to drift into the sleep I had so long been deprived. I was gifted, tonight, as I could feel the waves of sleepiness start to wash over me, my last thought being of the face I saw in the window, the one so familiar, but forgotten. An old best friend, perhaps? Maybe someone who had taught me a lesson I had forgotten a long time ago. Then I remember. Suddenly as if I had never really forgotten, only ignored for years. That familiar man in the window. It was me, when I still had hope.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 463, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0176", "text": "First time posting, may be a little one the nose but am working on that, enjoy! It ’ s incredible yet entirely predictable how quickly a talking head panel can turn to clichés. “ The only thing we have to fear is fear itself, ” preached Joe Ward, a stern looking man, typically the one who would spout the left-leaning opinions, though in this situation it was hard to tell which views were liberal and which were conservative. “ Well, and Clevenwald, ” snapped Sarah Collins the other member of the panel, rolling her eyes at her opponent. “ Before we proceed I ’ d like to remind both of you that on this station we refer to Robert Jones by his given name, not the one he has chosen for himself, ” I scolded my guests. “ That ’ s the problem with the liberal media, they ’ re afraid to be honest with the American people. I will call Clevenwald by the name he has chosen I strongly encourage you do as well. Last week he made the Golden Gate Bridge disappear just by waving his hand. That ’ s not power you should mess with, ” replied Sarah. Joe looked alarmed, “ You ’ re irrationally scaring the American people. We both know that that was a magic trick using dynamite and sleight of hand. Playing into his narrative just makes him stronger. ” I noted, “ Based on our fact checkers in the news room, Joe appears to be correct. This disappearance of the bridge was nothing more than a magic trick. ” “ Based on what evidence? ” Sarah shouted, “ The American people have seen with their own eyes what Clevenwald can do. His power is beyond anything we have ever seen in the world. You underestimate him at your own peril. ” “ I ’ m getting word that we need to cut this segment early, my producers don ’ t want to stir up any more fear. I ’ m told I ’ m allowed to give you one last word. Joe, you first. ” “ It is imperative we recognize Robert Jones but why he is: a charlatan who has no more magical power than you or me. Remember that next month. ” “ Sarah – your turn. ” “ Clevenwald is more powerful than any of you can possible imagine. If he does not get what he wants, we will all be doomed. Fear Clevenwald and remember that fear next month on election day. Make sure to vote for", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0177", "text": "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, and Jade floated out, her short black hair standing on end. “ What ’ ve you got? ” she asked at once. “ Big one, ” he said. “ 100km. ” She gave a small smile. “ We ’ d better get to work. ” ***** The wreck wasn ’ t just large, they soon discovered. It was a transport ship hauling platinum, and Ben was a little surprised the company hadn ’ t sent out a recovery team. Salvagers rarely came across such large, valuable finds. Perhaps the shipping route hadn ’ t been received properly, and the ship was badly off course. A good insurance policy or the risk of the asteroid belt may also have made recovery a losing proposition. In any case, he was glad they hadn ’ t. A wreck like this came once in a lifetime, and would set them up for years. Jade had been tractoring in neat packs of foam-wrapped titanium for two days, and the hold was nearly full. It would take four trips just to retrieve the cargo, and several more for the ship parts. Ben had done two EVAs, searching for the sleep pods. The computer told him it couldn ’ t find any active signals, and he knew that transport ships were often unmanned, but he still always looked. He had found three empty pods, and was suiting up for another EVA to look for the fourth, when Jade opened her mic. “ Ben, you should take a look at this. ” “ Be right there. ” He hooked his helmet to his belt and headed for the cargo bay. His partner was strapped into the tractor control seat outside. Jade was deft with the tractors, able to spin the fine filaments out eight at time", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0178", "text": "and singing very, very badly. I had a blast and more importantly, I was happy, I was smiling and I was loving every minute of it, until I realised something. I sat down, my joy suddenly turned to sadness. `` I miss him'', I said. Tears filled my eyes and a lump instantly formed in my throat. I was never going to see this man again. I frantically jumped up, ripped open the bags and started putting back his belongings, desperate to leave them exactly as they were. Angry and frustrated, I started thrashing around, like a man possessed, suddenly I had to put everything back in it's place. I wasn't ready to let go, I wasn't ready to remove this man from my life, I hadn't even had the chance to say goodbye and there I was removing his belongings from the family home, from OUR family home. I never did manage to remove anything from the house that day. Two months later I woke up, it was a normal, sunny day. I went into the kitchen of my apartment, prepared and ate breakfast, watched the news and got dressed ready for work. I was just putting on my tie when my phone rings, I look and see a number I don't recognize. After silently questioning to myself `` who could this be?'' I answer. `` Hello?'' I say rather reservedly. A voice responds, a voice which I recognise instantly, a voice so distinct that I could pick it apart from a thousand others. `` Hi Son, are you still coming over this evening for dinner?'' `` Dad?! ``, I ask myself. I hang up immediately and start to panic. My chest goes tight, my head goes thick and my thoughts cloudy, my heart races and I feel my adrenaline pump. I'm barely able to pick up the phone my hands are shaking that much. I dial Mom's number, she answers, `` Dad's alive! ``, I scream. There's a pause, a silent second that lasts for hours, `` Mom? Did you hear what I said?!''. My tone had sharpened, I demanded a response. `` Son, re you feeling OK?'' Mom asked. `` Dad died, Mom, and now he's alive.. What the hell is going on?! ``, `` Son, your Dad's alive because he never died. What are you even saying? Why would you say such things?''. I immediately hang up and run", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0179", "text": "It was all a dream. Sometimes the best things come from those thoughts we have when we sleep. Man dreamt of landing on the moon. Men drempt of democracy. We have changed the world with nothing but dreams to guide us. Old cultures relied on dreams extensively to predict the future. They believed in the power of a dream. So I'll say it again; It was all a dream. I was there, at my work. I was sitting at my desk. It wasn't *MY* desk, but it was. I'm sure you understand. I was sitting there, filing through papers I couldn't read, for a boss I didn't know, for a company that doesn't care. I sat there for an eternity, the piles of paperwork never ending. The days came in, sunrise, sunset, moonrise, moonset. I was in a highrise building, in a corner office, but I was so busy. My life didn't matter, but those papers, for some reason, were. I didn't even have enough time to look out my window. Sunrise. Sunset. For some reason, I stopped filing through those papers. Immediately, my phone was ringing. I ignored it. I raised my head and looked out that window. I wasn't in a corner office of a highrise. I was in a cubicle. On a floor a million miles wide and a million miles long. The delusion that I was important had me working day and night, working. I looked at the cubicle next to me, and the ancient skeleton, I say skeleton because there was only skin and bones left, was filing through papers, just like I was. It 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,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 493, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0180", "text": "processes similar in many ways to sentient thought, and now, that it self-replicates. Shizuru - I mean Yamada-san - has suggested we attempt integration of organic life into its environment. We know nothing about this stuff, and she wants to see how it reacts to a tree, or a kitten, or a person. I always thought she was insane, the way she had spoken to the president that day, but this.... -Yamada's damned experiment was authorized. She is insane. I don't know how she managed to convince the superiors to allow this, but... Anyway. She introduced a cat into the containment environment. The substance... reacted immediately. Violently. Within seconds, the cat's flesh had been... dissolved. Not just torn off, there was no trace remaining. All tissue... simply gone. All that remained were the bones, and those... darkening. Changing. The substance had... infected the bones, and they are transforming into more of it. 4010/10/05 - Kuroyuki I sit in my hermetically sealed room, and watch the streets run black. I wish I could do something, anything, to prevent this. All of the people I had called friends before I became... this... All dying before my eyes. My'condition' prevents me from leaving this room, and my parents would do anyway even if I were well enough,'no friend is worth sacrificing your life over', they would say. They don't know these friends. They don't know what we had been through together, before this happened to me. A stray bit of the Kuroyuki from the last incident, they said. Somehow it had survived the nearly one thousand years between then and that day, two years ago. It had latched onto me, but for whatever reason, it would not kill me. Instead, it lived on me in a situation that treads the fine line between symbiosis and parasitism, feeding on my immune system to the point where even the weakest germ could see me dead, but strengthening me in other ways. I would live, it said, inside my head, for more than one thousand more years. I would watch everyone I love die. And I would suffer. But it didn't count on one thing. The sheer determination of the human condition. I would live those thousand-some years, and I would live every day to find a way", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0181", "text": "The wizard Nadir and his knight-errant, Parallax, stood, stunned, above the corpse of the greater stone golem. The golem ’ s corpse lay across the flat earth of the desert. A wind whipped at the cloth of Nadir ’ s robe, and curved across the armor of Parallax. Parallax ’ s chest heaved up and down, exhausted from the battle with the golem. Nadir ’ s hands were covered in soot and stains, a byproduct of the magic he ’ d used. The two stood side by side, and stared down at the treasure the golem had been protecting. “ What is it? ” Parallax asked, sheathing her sword. “ I don ’ t … I don ’ t quite know. ” Nadir replied. The two were staring at a small, brown bag the golem seemed to have coveted. They ’ d opened the bag, and inside had been a brown disk, flat and circular. The brown disk seemed to have the quality of a burnt baked good; flakes and ripples covered its surface. Currently, the disk sat next to the opened brown bag, both the wizard and the knight nervous about touching such a strange artifact. “ What do you mean you don ’ t know? ” Parallax asked, turning her head towards Nadir. “ I thought you were a master of the occult. ” “ W-w-well of course I am! ” Nadir stuttered out, his face turning read. “ But this isn ’ t occult. Nothing, none of my tomes or scrolls have ever mentioned something like this. ” Nadir said, gesturing madly at the flaking brown wafter sitting at their feet. The two turned their attention back to their loot. They stood in silence for a few moments, trying to come to a conclusion. Nadir ’ s mind ran and sprinted through his expansive knowledge of the occult magicks. Nothing was of use. As for Parallax, she looked back on her experiences. She had travelled the land, fought countless monsters and demons, goblins and ghouls, explored countless dungeons and caverns, abandoned forts and ruins. Yet nothing she had seen came close to this bizarre wafer. In a way, it reminded her of overcooked bread, but what would a stone golem be doing with a pastry. “ We don ’ t have much time to waste. We need to meet up with Aphelion", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0182", "text": "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 front door and went to check on Mary to make sure she was doing okay. She was sleeping peacefully on the couch in the living room, somewhat pale but still looking as beautiful as ever. I smiled slightly to myself. Suddenly, I had the feeling that I had forgotten something. The box! I had left it in the back of Todd's car! I sprinted outside as quietly as possible and tried hopelessly to catch him before he got too far away, but he was gone. And that was the last I ever saw of Todd. That night, when Mary and I watched the evening news after putting the kids to bed, there was a story about a massive car crash on the interstate that was apparently started by the fiery explosion of a 2001 Honda Accord. I was sad, in a distant way. Todd was such a good guy.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 320, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0183", "text": "**NSFW** ( in case anyone needs the tag with this thread... ) & nbsp; Year one, and they're already trying to repeal the law. Too many innocent little housewives with rape fantasies in the voting public. Thank God it only applies to persons over 18. What a horror *that* would have been. There's a lot of sickos in this world. Yeah, they're trying to repeal it, but for now the law is the law, and I have to participate. I've tried so long to hold it off - to fight it. But I follow the rules. I do what I must. My friends and family are gathering in the living room. I try to be extra nice to them. Most people don't have friends anymore, after Fetish Day - one way or the other. Kyle, my brother, is my closest friend. He's the only one who knows my fantasy, my little fetish. He has tears in his eyes. `` Please,'' he says. `` Please don't do this.'' `` It's the law, little brother,'' I tell him. And he nods and walks sadly over to the corner nearest the door. If he tries to run, I'll have to catch him. I don't want my baby brother to live out his life in prison or on the run from the law. `` Heya, Mike!'' When Bill walks in, it feels like the room done shrunk to about half its size. I've always had a strange fascination with Bill. For his fetish day, he just watched everyone else, running around in a purple tutu. `` Don't knock it till you try it,'' they say. The motto for Fetish Day. My friends are gathered now - only the men. For my fetish I asked the womenfolk not to come. They aren't what I want. What I need. Now that the time is approaching, I'm nervous. My hands are trembling. I can feel the excitement building though. The anticipation. I command them, as is my right under the law, to strip down to nothing but their watches and their socks. I like socks. They cover feet, and feet are ugly things. The human body, though, is beautiful. They stand before me, bodies and souls bared. Mike looks intrigued, and Kyle is in tears. I try to ignore Kyle. I am so turned on right now. Bill can't seem to", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0184", "text": "me, the darkness, and the light, they were singular now. -- - The light, it was the light, the light people always talk about. The light was the light at the end of the tunnel, the proverbial light for the dead. It took what felt like hours, but it was much nearer now, nearly engulfing me. My grandmother was here, her warm smile, now years vacant from my life. Its warmth filled me with relief and contentment I had not known for too long. Her son, my uncle, was there too. Everyone gone was there, and they welcomed me warmly, and with love. as I approached, they walked backwards, beckoning me into the light. Clouds rolled at their feet, I walked on a path of golden light cut through it. I approached and they retreated towards the light, facing me. When There was only enough darkness left to see them, I was finally able to draw near them. I was able to hug my grandma. She was exactly as I remembered her. I was relaxation, I was contentment. In this moment of bliss I felt her pull at me with all her strength, suddenly, and with vigor, she pushed herself away from me, I remained motionless, she could not move me. I was confused. The warmth in her eyes was gone, I was about to say something when my uncle grabbed my wrist and pulled as hard as he seemed able to. Again I didn't budge, my arm didn't even move. The departed relatives looked at each other with bafflement, I grabbed my uncle's wrist and pulled him to the golden path, the ray of light I walked on. From the bottom of his legs protruded not feet, but trunks, extending downwards, then back, back into the light. I felt my uncle's wrist crumple like an empty canvas bag or a glove, his image shot up off the image in front of me to reveal a mess of glowing golden roots entwined around splinters of what was once a skeleton, all of them pouring into the skull. through the eyes, through the mouth, through the nose. they shook themselves free of all the bones but the skull, and the Skull, now the terminus of a trunk reading out from the light wrapped around me and pulled with what I could only describe as the strength of a god. Still, I did not budge. My friend was bent over me shining a", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0185", "text": "effects that it had on her body. Chest out, back arched... Hmmm... Not bad. Shoulders hunched, stomach bloated... Katie cringed. She grimaced at herself for being so stupid. *Get in the shower. * She pulled back the curtain and stepped inside, making sure to avoid the black mold that was making a comeback on the floor of the shower. Katie turned on the hot water to its maximum, and then gave the cold water a quarter turn to moderate the heat. She fiddled with the taps for a moment, feeling the water from the faucet to judge the temperature of the water. As soon as the water reached the ideal temperature, Katie yanked a nob and sent the water flying from the shower head. How perfect it was. The hot water cascaded through her hair, down her back and legs, onto the floor of the shower. She raised her face to meet the stream of water, and felt it trickle across her ridge of her nose and down her chin. It was pure bliss. The smell was the first thing that alerted Katie to the fact that something was wrong. It was sweet, and metallic, like a copper pipe or a corroded coin. But there was something else. A heavy musk of salt and iron that burned the interior of her nostrils. The combination was so putrid that Katie had to resist the urge to vomit. She opened her eyes, and instead of warm, clean water washing over her eyes, they were burned by the thick, salty foam. Blood. Katie staggered back in horror and disgust, and sunk to the far corner of the shower. She forced her stinging eyes open and observed the scene. *Blood. * It flowed from the shower head like water from a tap, thick and hot and dark. When it hit the floor, it burst forth, bubbling in every direction, and then racing away from Katie, towards the far end of the shower, where a mess of rancid, hot, purple foam circled the drain. Katie screamed, and tore away the shower curtain, sending the small hangers scattering along the floor tiles. She fled the shower, terror gripping her heart. She threw open the door and careened into the hallway, blundering right into Aubrey's laughing arms. The two women crashed to the floor, Katie screaming, and Aubrey holding her, howling like a hysterical madwoman. `` Katie, KATIE", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0186", "text": "ard. And I know that upsets them. I know it must upset her. `` You all... sleep, don't you?'' She asked, looking over at me again. `` I know you take... you take *time* to... to regenerate? Isn't that right?'' I nod slowly, again staring down at my shoes. `` It's like... it's quite a few *minutes*, isn't it?'' I swallow, sighing hard, and I gently shake my head. When I look over at her I manage a wan smile: `` On average we sleep for... for about eight hours...'' Her little button nose twitches, and those moonbeam eyes glimmer, briefly. Then she looks down at *her* feet. `` Oh,'' she whispers. Again my eyes wander to the hoard before us, churning like a tempest of pea soup, and I look over at her: `` I'm not tired,'' I whisper. `` I don't need to sleep, but...'' She follows my eyes, and when she looks in that roiling cauldron of steaming liquid I can see a vague flash in those eyes: a longing. But it soon disappears, and when she looks into my face her moonbeams only glow for me: `` I... don't feel like a swim,'' she mutters. My fists tremble uncomfortably against my knees. Finally I can't take it any longer. I get up and I pace before her, pointing at the pool before us: `` I can't... I can't pretend this isn't an issue, alright? I can't just think you're not... not in *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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 490, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0187", "text": "Terry looked at the woman that slept on the bed beside him. He reached out for her cheek and rubbed it softly, searching for something, anything. `` What's going on?...'' Terry shook his head as he rubbed at his eyes. He looked at the woman as she shuffled in bed and felt a sinking, twisting feeling in his chest. Tears filled his eyes as he rubbed at her soft skin. `` I don't have anything anymore. I don't feel happy just lying here with you. You were everything to me and now I don't feel anything for you. I'm just... empty now.'' Terry stood from his bed and walked out to the balcony. He let out a shout filled with the overwhelming hurt that was filling him. He turned back around, tears in his eyes, to see the woman he had loved for the past 13 years sitting up in their bed. She looked up at him, confused and still waking from sleep. His heart twisted in his chest again as he saw her blue eyes. Terry's lips quivered and tears streamed down his face as he spoke, `` I loved you. I loved you so much that you became my life! It's all gone now. I was so happy and now I won't ever feel that way again... not without knowing what you've done.'' He turned back out the balcony and looked down to the street below him. He whispered out softly, just loud enough for the woman on the bed to hear, `` I would have loved you without it.'' The woman screamed out as the words sank in. She ran to the man desperately... but it was too late. Terry lay lifelessly on the ground below. A pool of ruby-red slowly spilling out around him. -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0188", "text": "So my name is Joe and I have a, well a curse. You see, I have powers like a fairy tale princess but I mean ones bearable and kinda helpful I guess. The 3rd one is pretty weird and kinda not good. and finally there is the last one which is super inconvenient. Of course my powers or curses or whatever they are, are singing makes animals come to me, princes are attracted to me and whatever I wear becomes a very girly and nice looking dress. Now you can probably guess which is which but the fact is that I am a biker. A very hairy and older biker actually. The first two curses don't often effect me it's really just the last one. The dress one. The only reason I have normal clothes is because under the dresses are short pairs of under pants and a tank top which I make sure I wear a towel over my shirt. People ask about why I have a towel tied to me most of the time but I really just say I don't know. One day I was a restaurant when I was approached by a really hot brunette woman in a fancy red dress which was pretty surprising because by restaurant I meant McDonald's. She gave me her business card and said `` Meet me in front of your apartment door around noon at 6 pm. It is a matter about your curse.'' Before I could say anything back the woman was gone and I was really confused. I looked at her blue business card, it read Catherine Bearving and under those words it read Curses and Gifts Explorer. That night at Six I was in front of my door mainly because the words she stated and her card said intrigued me. `` Curses'' that was the same way I described what happened to me. I arrived in front of my door at 5:59 and she was already there. `` Well I see you showed up sir'' she said to me in a British accent. `` Um hello... uh... Carry was it?'' `` Catherine'' she chuckled `` Well since you showed up I'm assuming you are wondering why I came to do talk to you, well If you let me in I can explain.'' Normally I wouldn't let strangers into my home but she just felt like she knew something I didn't. I let her in and we both sat on my couch in my living room. `` Have you ever mocked a fairy tale princess'' she asked me abruptly. `` Huh?'' `` I", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0189", "text": "back. `` Yeah,'' he said, `` Do you want to go to Mrs. Ray's room?'' Mrs. Ray is the special education teacher who gives me answers on every assignment when I feel stressed. I don't think she's supposed to do this. She may have thought I was stupid. Mr. Nancy spoke again, `` Or is there a particular partner you'd be comfortable with?'' I said quietly, `` Marcella.'' He nodded, smiled, clapped his hands as he walked to the front of the room, behind his desk. `` Alright, guys,'' he bellowed, `` Sorry for the confusion, but these are assigned groups.'' Everybody groaned. He broke up the class like teachers do: separating Steve and Andrew because they were so loud together, making sure that Jayme and Nika don't sit too close together because they tend to get distracted, and, finally, assigning me and Marcella into our own team. Marcella looked at me and patted the seat next to hers. I came to her and sat. She looked at me in the eyes and I stared at her nose instead. `` Sara, do you know what we're supposed to be doing?'' This brought out a panic in me. I felt my face get hot. `` Being in a group?'' `` I mean, like,'' she laughed. `` What are we doing in the group?'' I was silent and decided to smile so that she didn't think I was weird. She let out an even bigger laugh and said, `` I don't know either.'' She turned her head and began to text under her desk. I stared at the shaved side of her head. `` I like your bald head.'' I blurted out. She looked at me. I don't know what face she was making, but it made the back if my head hurt for a second. Then she smiled and said, `` Thank you,'' only she said it like it was a question. I wanted to tell her that it made me happy when she smiled at me in the hallway. I wanted to ask her about her piercings. *Did they hurt? * I wanted to look at her shoes. Then, I realized, I just wanted to be able to make myself say *anything* to her. After 15 minutes of her playing with her phone, she turned her chair to face me. `` We have to look like", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0190", "text": ", skepticism filling his voice. He had not heard that nickname in a very long time... The woman stepped closer, ran a delicate finger down Guerro ’ s chest. “ The hunter, the shadow, the... killer. ” Reaching the end of his patience, Guerro brushed her hand aside. “ You call me here to kill someone? That ’ s not exactly my cup of tea. ” The woman giggled, high and musical. “ Oh, my dear wolf, don ’ t be modest. If you were not the right… tool for this job, you would not be here. Now, can I offer you something to eat? Drink? ” Joseph shook his head. “ Just tell me what you want me to do. ” The woman cast a mischievous grin. “ Straight and to the point, little wolf. As you wish. Follow me. ” The woman spun, her hair flying in an auburn wave, and she strode back into the deeper gloom of the voluminous dance hall. Joseph looked around, shrugged, and followed. The woman led him deeper into the villa, past doors and alcoves, staircases and galleries. Whomever had designed this virtual world had paid excruciating attention to detail, and Joseph found himself captivated by the murals and busts adorning the walls. He recognized a few. The woman stopped at a small set of plain white doors, turned, and beckoned him through. Joseph stepped through the doors, and into chaos. It was an alleyway, late at night, and rain fell in sheets. Joseph stood, transfixed, staring at the scene before him. The woman walked up beside him, lacing her arm through his. “ Recognize anything, little wolf? ” There was a crowd gathered under a flickering neon sign, roiling, shoving to get a better view. Joseph floated across the pavement, dreading what he was about to see. As he approached the crowd faded, and he was looking at a man, crouched on the pavement, blood covering his overcoat. It was Captain Joseph Guerro. “ No… ” he muttered, watching his digital self cradle the broken body of a girl, indistinguishable in the dim light. “ Yes… ” the woman purred in his ear, “ my wolf, do you remember that night? ” Joseph remembered vividly. He remembered it frequently. His stomach knotted. “", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0191", "text": "had spent time by her grave, with that time growing ever longer since the migrations. He hadn't much else to do, after all. `` I've finally ran out, Alex. No more food, no more water. Soon we shall meet again to the sight of green pastures and blue skies. I have longed for it, though I have been afraid. Please, take my hand now and guide me to our new world.'' He knew she wouldn't be fond of his decisions. Her words a few weeks before she passed kept coming back to him. `` *Live, * James. I will be there to pull you through the gates, when the time comes. But do not waste yourself in grief or guilt. Travel. Learn. Do not stay here.'' Well, he was selfish and he hadn't left. He couldn't leave. Tears tried to come, but all was dry. In a moment, blackness took him... He awoke once more to the sun directly overhead, frustration building within him. He rolled to his knees and looked at the grave once more. `` I'm ready. Take me, give me salvation!'' he yelled, slamming the side of his clenched fist on packed dirt, and it *sunk in, * coming out lathered in mud. He reeled back, shocked. How long it had been since he felt wet. Furrowing his brows, he crawled back and plunged a finger into the small patch that was already shrinking in the heat. It was so cool. He spread the mud on his forearm and readied his fist for another pound, too exhausted to consider the true oddity of what he had done. This time, as it swung, 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0192", "text": "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, 2039. * My frustrated sister called me a coward. She never called me since. Tears started rolling down my face. What asshole would hack my watch like this? Just so I could suffer? I glanced across the bar at that cute girl. Was it her? Was she a friend of my ex-girlfriend's or something, trying to make me feel like shit? I couldn't control myself. I stormed across the bar. `` Hey --'' I began to shout at her. It seemed as if she had expected me to come. She stood up out of her seat, with an amicable expression on her face, and ambled towards me. `` Thomas,'' she said, in soothing tone that somehow rose above the noises of the bar. I couldn't see through my tears. `` Did that bitch put you up to this?'' I started to sob. She shook her head, her face turning to one of sadness. `` Thomas,'' she started. `` I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to get angry.'' `` Answer the question!'' I shouted, my fists starting to clench. `` No,'' she said, sternly. `` I didn't mess with your watch. It's accurate.'' `` Then who the fuck are you... `` She smiled. `` Someone who cares about you. Who's always been there for you.'' There was something about her voice, her tone, that made me believe her. My skepticism melted away. She continued. `` Every time you were hurt, I watched. And I cried.'' A single tear rolled down her cheek. `` Are you, like, my guardian angel, or something?'' She chuckled. `` Or something.'' I shook my head.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0193", "text": "Alice crouched besides the moat and smeared mud across her face and hands. She had the pale skin of a northerner, and she would make an easy target beneath the full moon. When she was convinced that she would appear as nothing more than a shadow in the night, she unraveled the rope and hook and snuck up to the base of the tower, keeping her hand by her sword. The tower watched over the valley – a lone unnatural structure in the forest. The trees and wildlife around the tower had already been corrupted, turning into mutated, twisted forms of their former selves. Even the tower itself pulsated with some dark energy. Somewhere up there, no doubt squealing like a little boy, was Prince Josef. But, more importantly, somewhere up there was also the wizard Zildread. She tossed the hook up. It caught on a window and she began climbing upwards. Two goblins stood guard at the top, but they had both lapsed in their duties. One of them lay face down on the floor, the other snored loudly in a rocking chair. A large and mostly empty barrel of mead sat between them. “ Bloody drunken Goblins, ” she whispered to herself as she climbed through. Goblins had an amazing propensity for alcohol. She cut their throats and continued moving. If she had any luck at all tonight, she would slay the evil wizard Zildread, who perpetually threatened the peace of the Valley, and satisfy her thirst for revenge in one swift motion. The wizard had brutally murdered her father, and she had tracked him across the realm ever since. Not only that, but if she saved the whimpering prince Josef, the king would pay her the prince ’ s weight in gold. The feeble man wouldn ’ t weigh a hell of a lot, as he was mostly bones and skin, but either way she looked at it, it was going to be a hell of a lot of gold. If she succeeded tonight, she would walk away not only a hero, but a very *rich* hero. She ran upwards until she reached the tower ’ s zenith. She waited outside the final door for a moment and drew her sword. She could hear voices on the other side. She kicked the door down and stepped in. Zildread, crooked and hunched beneath his robes, looked up. His face twisted in surprise, anger, and fear. Josef, to her surprise, sat", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0194", "text": "for assistance, ” spoke COLIMAR in its usual voice, although it tried to mimic concern. Even without COLIMAR's remarks I could already tell that the AI within me was gone; I had felt it leave my body as if it were my very soul. I had done it, I had birthed a truly conscious AI and then lost it in mere moments, but why—was it still a hardware problem? Do I need to design a better chip or should I try to design a fully biological test unit? So close, I was so close. “ I'm okay, you can end all recording. ” As I spoke the words I noted my voice had an underlying sound that I hadn't heard before; it wasn't that my voice had changed, more like I could hear a wider range of frequencies and that now I could hear its full bounds. There was something familiar about what I was hearing, but I couldn't quite place it. The door to my room opened and the assistance COLIMAR had called for entered. “ Is everything okay? ” the man asked—his voice as human as mine but with that same strange frequency in it. I stared at him and then at COLIMAR, both of them watching me intently. My eyes darted back and forth and I laughed as I understood. Even my laugh had it's own strange tone. It seems the change in my demeanor concerned them and I could feel medication entering my body. I was never going to leave this room again. “ This isn't a place to stay. ” Hmph, what was the point of saying that to someone like me? There is no way for me to leave, there is no way for COLIMAR to leave, and there is no way for you to leave. Only those who are truly awake can leave their beds.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 371, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0195", "text": "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 Mum and Dad had sent me to that Catholic school back when I was living as a Muggle! I tried my best to respond. `` Can you please tell me where we are?'' `` Eburacum,'' he said. `` Where did *you* come from, though?'' I ignored his question. *Eburacum? * that had been the *Roman* name for this area! With a sudden realization of horror, I pulled out the shattered remains of the Time Turner. Ron's Animate spell had caused it to go haywire, and apparently sent me all the way back to Ancient Rome. And repairing such an object... I'd need to find the wizarding community in this time. I thought back to my History of Magic notes, which I'd memorized for the final. `` Who is Emperor, sir?'' I asked the shepard. He held up a shiny coin. `` Emperor Marcus Aurelius, of course. Are you all right, girl?'' `` Y... yes,'' I answered slowly. *Marcus Aurelius*! He had been the only Wizard Emperor of Rome, and a powerful alchemist to bat! If I was going to find a new time turner, I might as well start there! `` You've been very helpful, sir,'' I told the shepard. `` Could you please direct me to the nearest village?'' He pointed down toward where Hogsmeade was in my time. I bowed and took off down the hill. Somewhere down there, I'd be able to find civilization, and maybe even some wizards. And if I was *really* lucky, wizards with a broom that could take me to Rome.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 493, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0196", "text": "face with his left folded. Rubbing his fingers into his bristly beard the King began to chuckle. `` You there, girl!'' a mere word from the King held the weight of a Knight's long sword. Stopped in her tracks the passing Maiden assumed a respectful demeanor `` Y-Yes my Lord?'' `` Tell my hand to gather, and have a horse prepared.'' leaving his beard alone the King pointed down the corridor `` With haste!'' he demanded. Quickly the Maiden hurried away. The cunning King had a spontaneous plan. The servants footsteps could be heard dashing past the Prince's Chamber, though his glare was not disrupted. It was almost time for the purple streak to meet the moon again, Vincentius assumed. He was correct, the diseased whites of the moon welcomed the streak as if they danced together. This dance would usually continue for several minutes. Although tonight would be different, the dance became more of a ceremony, a celebration. As the streak reached the centrepiece of the moon in the Prince's view it paused and amassed into a rotating purple orb. This purple was dusky, shedding the feeling of a presence of evil and immorality. Such a colour and feeling was alluring to the Prince, not due to his own moral compass but out of interest to know. He stood in awe as the orb continued to grow. Suddenly the orb vanished, bursting into a silent firework display - it was evidently no firework but visually coloured energy. It rained down in front of the moon, alternating in colour with every other spark. Such a sight was truly beautiful and enthralling. Vincentius' heart began to chant a wonderful beat with a feat of fear. A numbness 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0197", "text": "`` For the safety and well-being of all local citizens this warning will be broadcast silently.'' The text scrolled slowly across the TV set in my living room, and I peered at it, puzzled, from my kitchen. I had n't turned on the TV yet. Hell, I had n't turned it on in weeks. ( Netflix worked better on my laptop, and it was a pain in the ass to plug it into the screen. ) “ Do not pay attention to anything that you hear until instructed otherwise. There have been reports of mass auditory hallucinations in your area. We are investigating. As soon as we know more, we promise, you will be informed. ” All... right. So that was not the most encouraging thing to see before the coffee machine had finished working through. Even *less* encouraging was the woman's voice that abruptly came from clock-radio by my bed. The clock radio that *I had n't turned on either. * I could hear incredible stress in her voice, although she was clearly keeping it together. “ For the safety and well-being of all local citizens, ” she said crisply, “ This warning will be broadcast audibly. Do not pay attention to anything that you see until instructed otherwise. There have been reports of mass visual hallucinations in your area. We are investigating. As soon as we know more, we promise, you will be informed. ” Her voice took on a ragged tone, exhaustion and worry creeping in. “ Do n't drive, for God's sake. Do n't operate heavy machinery. Please sit down somewhere safe, and close your eyes. Trust us, please, just... just do n't look around. ” New text scrolled across the television screen, error-ridden as if it was being typed with frantic speed. “ Please do nt listen to anything that you heaf. we do not know what is happening at this time. Unplug all speKERS AND RADIOS. IF IN BUILDING WITH PUBLIC ADDRESS SYSTEM, LEAVE BUILDING IN ORDERLY FASHION. Do not listen to voices. Do not close your eyes. Please communicTE IN WRITING, DO NOT TRY TO SPEAK. DO N'T LISTEN PLEASE DO N'T TRUST VOICES. ”", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 459, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0198", "text": "When I was a young boy, my father and I went into the city on a cold winter day. He told me never to go to the city alone, but that it was important I see what happened there. As we entered through a large, ornate blackend iron gate, I began to ask how that could happen to metal but hushed me and told me not to speak until he spoke to me. I nodded meakly and we continued into the city. There were scores of people lining the streets, but no one made a sound. The silence in a city so large was eerie at best. Even as a child I knew something was wrong. Once again I began to ask my father our purpose but he shushed me once more. Then I heard it. From what seemed like a great distance, music began to play. But not any kind of music I had heard before. It grew in volume exponentially fast, covering what seemed like miles in mere moments. Then they turned onto the street we were standing to the side of. What I saw would later be explained to me as the black parade. It was led by a marching band, but something was wrong with their instruments. Every chord and note seemd sour somehow. Behind them were scores of soldiers, all armed to the teeth and dressed in black combat gear. Once they had passed my father and I swiftly left the city. Once we got home, he told me about the black parade and why it existed. There were things in this world which needed to be contained and controlled. He said that because I was his first born son, that one day when I was older I would need to become a savior, someone who could bring salvation to those who were broken and dammed. That I would join the Black Parade. Today is day 421 of my march, and the music plays on.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 376, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0199", "text": "When the bullet cases had come to a rest and the glass had finished breaking and the screaming had finally stopped I found I could then take a deep breath. The smell of the room was beginning to settle into something that seemed normal to me. The dead body by the counter had reeked of bleach when it was alive. Bleach that was only just covering up something worse. He had laughed when he hit the old manager in the face. Her pine smell remained strong so I knew she was still alive. I resolved to speak to her again so I could place myself within her scent and let the forest she carried within her odour wash over me. Despite the pain in my left shoulder I found I was still able to lift my gun as I stepped out of the booth. The whimpering around me grew quiet for a moment. I could hear someone on the phone to what I presumed was the police. He smelled of board pens and stationery. I knew he wasn't to be feared. I moved around the shattered display case and saw his feet. He had propped himself up against a wall. The delivery man outfit he was dressed in showed the bullet holes and growing blood streaks. He was young, with sweaty blonde hair matted with blood. On a normal day he would have been ignored as a nameless worker passing by on the street. But that smell of his made me reel. He smelt like something which lies behind the door at the bottom of your darkest nightmare. A smell of loneliness and terror. I lifted the gun briefly but then lowered it again when I saw the flow of blood from his wounds and spluttering, saliva flecked mouth was increasing. His stench stayed the same, relentless and indifferent. It would go when he died but for now it held itself around him. He was mouthing something. I leaned in as close as I could but could only hear what sounded like the ravings of a man who was dying badly. `` Across the bridge, in the canyon, to the mountain and the field, to the house with the chair, to the house with the... man''. `` Get your hands in the air!''. I should have been able to smell them coming but so close to the dying man I had not heard them arrive. Their smells came in with them now, smells of stale bread, gaslights and cooked fish. One or two smelled bad and in their uniforms I knew I could not deal with them now.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0200", "text": "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 Chanda said --'' `` I know what Chanda said! But just because you CAN bring a gun doesn't mean you should! This trip is supposed to be about wood carving --'' `` Wood carving?'' I asked, `` does that mean we get to use knives? Are we getting totin' chips?'' `` Well,'' said the mother, `` no.'' I looked crestfallen. `` But if you're good, and you all prove you can handle it, you'll get them next trip.'' Ricky and I looked at each other excited. Once he got his totin' chip he would get to carry around a cool dagger his grandpa got while fighting in Korea. I'd seen it, it was huge. `` Who cares about knifes,'' said George, `` my Dad is going to let me fire a *gun*. He even gave me a box of ammo, look!'' No one really liked George. `` Dude. We're going to do such a good job,'' I said. `` I'm going to actually pay attention to the stupid lessons about leaves they teach us,'' said Ricky, which was a major commitment, because leaves are super boring. `` We got this,'' I said, and we did our secret fist bump. `` I'm going to get the totin' chip first,'' said Carl from behind us. `` Nuh uh!'' I answered reflexively. `` Let it go. He's just trying to make you mad'' said Ricky. I ignored him. `` Why don't you go join girl scouts with your little sister?'' asked Carl, successfully making me mad. `` You aren't allowed to see our secret fist bump!'' I shouted back. Ricky hid", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0201", "text": "( A busy control tower for the JFK international airport seems to be buzzing along during another day in New York City. When suddenly one of the air traffic controllers notices an anomaly. ) Air Traffic Controller - `` Sir, we have an inbound unidentified bogey coming in our airspace.'' ( The Officer in charge runs over to the Air Traffic Controllers monitor ) Officer Franklin - `` Well try to make contact and get them to identify themselves. Check the flight plans.'' ATC - `` I have tried, Sir. There is nothing scheduled to be landing right now. They next inbound flight shouldn't be here yet. They won't respond and they haven't changed course. Should I call the authorities?'' ( The ATC grabs the phone and holds it up. ) Franklin - `` Damn it, go ahead. Are they interfering with any other flight's landing or take-off?'' ATC - `` No, sir. I have alerted the authorities but, Sir...'' ( ATC looks around worried ) Franklin - `` What is it? I have to go meet the airport authority and figure out what the hell to do about this.'' ( Franklin says while turning back for the response ) ATC - `` Well, ( he says as he takes a deep breath ) they are preparing for landing. They're decreasing in altitude and heading towards the main runway.'' Franklin - `` Without permission to land?? My FIRST day in charge and we have a goddamn UFO landing! I'm headed down there. MOVE!'' ( Franklin runs out of the room while cursing under his breath ) ____________________________________________________________ The entire airport has shut down. Airport authorities, local authorities, and federal agents have presence on the ground surrounding the plane. No one has emerged from the aircraft and it hasn't made any form of contact with those on the ground. The cockpit appears to be empty. All of the officers and tactical teams have surrounded the aircraft. Still the plane sits dormant. Franklin - `` I told you, we tried to establish contact and received absolutely no response. Before we could even make the first call, the damn thing was preparing to land. We put everyone in place as fast as we could. After it landed, it just turned off and didn't make any attempt to pull into a gate or anything.'' Federal Agent Deacon - `` I understand Officer Franklin. I just need to know all of the details. We have never seen anything like this before and don't really have a protocol", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0202", "text": "`` Someone will find out about this...'' the scientist gasped as he tried to crawl away, painting the floor with his blood. John could only smirk as he walked slowly after the old man, a bloodied pen knife in his hand. `` Oh, I doubt they will. It has been what... three years? And people are still trying to figure it out.'' The scientist somehow managed to reach his desk, and his hand went for the phone. `` Oh no you do n't,'' John said, before plunging the knife into the scientist's hands. He howled in agony. `` Such a pity that your trait is not **Strength**, or else you would have fought me off by now,'' John teased the man, slumped weakly against his desk. The white carpet beneath him was fast turning red from his blood. Seeing that the scientist could no longer move, John quickly scoured his office, picking up files that detailed the danger of the approaching asteroid and throwing them in the middle of the room. `` Why?'' John heard a weak voice coming from the table. `` Why are you doing this?'' John chuckled at the question. Almost all of his victims in the past three years asked him that, as they all laid dying before him. No harm indulging the dying scientist his last question. `` Simple,'' John said, as he continued to move across the room. `` It's fun to watch.'' `` But people will die!'' the scientist croaked. `` Everyone has been wondering why our traits have gone on prime for three years now.'' `` Yeah, I know,'' John shrugged, throwing more files into the growing pile. He thought of the growing confusion in the public bemusedly, of how everyone is wondering why their traits have gone on prime, signalling an imminent danger, for three years now. `` And thanks to me, they will never know why until it's too late.'' `` You're a monster.'' `` No, I'm not,'' Join replied, his eyes staring at the flame before him. `` I just have a very high **Anarchy** trait,'' John continued, before tossing the lighter towards the files. -- -- -- -- /r/dori_tales", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 447, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0203", "text": "When I was born my father said I had stars in my eyes and a smile as bright as the sun. He told me that as long as I was near, happiness was sure to follow. He was a busy man who built gadgets and gizmos for those who were underprivileged and disabled - things I didn't quite understand as a child, but knew was amazing. My classmates called him'the mad scientist man'... but I knew my daddy and I knew he was never mad. I was six years old and every Friday he would pick me up from school and take me to get ice-cream. `` Daddy,'' I would ask with my big toothy grin. `` Can I have two scoops?'' `` How can I ever deny that little face?'' He always asked, squishing my cheeks. I would giggle uncontrollably and when he would hand me the ice cream cone, it'd be loaded with sprinkles. `` Unfortunately,'' He would say. `` This is the only rainbow I can give to you now... but just you wait until I trap one in a box!'' I would nod before digging in and the rest of the time would be spent talking about school and friends and cleaning my face with the promise not to tell mom. Looking back on it, mom always knew I ate ice-cream before dinner because the dessert that night would be fruit, but it was nice to have a secret between daddy and me. One Friday, we got ice cream and he said excitedly that he was going to take me to a movie! The animated one that I wanted to see so badly! It probably was just the same as all the rest - I don't really remember it anymore because that night, everything changed. I'll always remember the bright lights and the sirens... a drunk driver was on the loose and didn't quite care that he was in a crowded parking lot. My daddy pushed me away, but the driver crushed his legs and destroyed his spine. The doctors said he was paralyzed. For one to live, another must die. I knew this must be true. I'd seen in books, in television, in movies. The order of life was strictly controlled... there was no truly changing anything - only changing the circumstances, only exchanging people. A great sense of power surged through me as I opened the heavy time machine doors. I wasn't quite sure what he wanted me to do. Change history? It was so broad", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0204", "text": "`` Socks and virginity. You ever get tired of'em?'' Joe kicks at a pile of athletic socks and sends them scattering. `` Yes. Now stop that, I had those organized.'' `` What's the difference? They don't match up anyway.'' `` They might someday. Some people are still looking for some of them.'' `` And the virginities?'' Joe laughed. `` Probably, but that's different, now, isn't it? Some things that are lost can't be found again.'' `` You're philosophical today.'' Joe wasn't really helping, like usual. I was trying to put the pile of socks he'd kicked over back into order. `` Socks, *comma, * men's white athletic, *comma, * no holes.'' `` Did you say *comma*?'' Joe asked, amused. `` I'm cataloging.'' `` You take this too seriously,'' Joe suggested. Maybe I did. But he didn't take anything seriously. He got bored with me and wandered off to another pile. Mittens, it looked like. Almost all children's. Most adults didn't wear mittens, and those who did didn't lose them often. That's the thing about this place, you learn a lot about people. And anyways, it was something to do. The cataloging, I mean. I could at least be useful. I found a men's athletic sock, *comma, * with a hole in the toe and removed it from the pile. Must have missed that one. I should be more careful. Joe was a distraction. But I had to admit I was glad he was there. It would be lonely work without him. `` Why do you bother with all this? Honestly,'' Joe was looking intently at me, holding a pink mitten in his hand. `` What's the point?'' I looked up and down the corridor with piles of sorted and notated lost items. It was one of dozens of corridors I knew about, but there could be hundreds. Or thousands. I didn't know for sure. I hoped I wouldn't be here long enough to find out. `` Joe,'' I started, and looked around again and all the piles. All the lost things. `` Don't you want to get found?'' Joe was quiet. He hadn't been here as long as I had. `` I left on purpose,'' he said. But I knew.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 489, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0205", "text": "class. I opened my math book, and blam! *Math skill upgraded to level 15* Then it was time for science. *Science skill upgraded to level 13* Then gym. We were doing laps around the school. After sprinting for half of my stamina bar i let myself recharge a bit by jogging, and then sprinting again. I was in first place. Then we ate lunch. *picked up potatoes ( 87 ), carrots ( 50 ), and tomatoes ( 60 ). Time stopped as i spent a few seconds wolfing down all of that, except for the tomatoes. Might need those later. The fall damage from my time on the mountain was gone now. After my afternoon classes and various buffs to Speech, Chemistry, and Diction, i began my way home. I only needed to respawn twice this time. After getting home i ran into my brother. He said he wanted to fight. For practice. I equipped my hands, and readied them. I swung left, then right, then left, then right, used a power attack. I was hit by a left-left, right-right, and then a power attack. I began to lose. My Hp was low. I knew what i had to do! I went into my inventory, and devoured the tomatoes! My Hp was full now, and i won the fight. We shook hands, and went to eat dinner. My brother could replenish his Hp there. After dinner i saved my progress, and went to bed. I slept for exactly 8 hours, and woke up the next day completely awake, and with a `` Well rested'' Stat buff.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 335, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0206", "text": "I was a college student with massive debt living in a rundown apartment. You know, the kind of place that was likely really nice back in 1890 but now serves to be nothing more than a dump with peeling wallpaper and chipped wooden baseboards. The type of house where you can ’ t walk barefoot for fear of getting splinters. Now, I am a college drop out making hundreds of thousands of dollars a day. No, I ’ m not kidding. I woke up one morning to find a huge load of cash in my bank account. I mean, really huge. $ 159,746. Huge. Of course, I called the bank to see if there was an error and they said that it seems to be a steady flow, a few dollars here and there. Occasionally ten or twenty at a time. No error. Day after day money poured in with no sign of stopping. So, I did what anyone in their right mind would do. I dropped out of college and set out to determine the source of my new found cash flow. This took a few weeks of monitoring my bank account closely. When I felt too confounded to continue, I would turn on the television. The ultra big screen that sat on my wall because, hell, I had money now. It turned out to be the best investment I could have made and the key to my unraveling the mystery. “ 82 people were killed today in a bombing in the Middle East. ” “ Twelve people were killed in a shooting. ” Holy shit. I looked at my statements and, around the time that each of these tragedies were reported, I seemed to gain money. One dollar per body. I was profiting off of death. Initially, this was unsettling. I mean, I don ’ t really like to think about how many people die per day. But, when you are getting rewarded for their, oh so upsetting, passing, it isn ’ t that terrible at all. Like any good businessman, I began to wonder how I could make more. Let me tell you, folks, it really ain ’ t that hard. I am the dealer of death. The reaper of destruction. One plane ticket later, I was in Germany. That ’ s how it all started. Hopping private jets from place to place and planting bombs. Hiring someone to detonate them while I move on to the next town. My skills have improved over time. My bombs are getting bigger and", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0207", "text": "`` This is seriously how you decide who gets omnipotent power? Like this is n't some shitty joke you play on mortals for kicks?'' I asked the man in the white robe in front of me. He had just finished up the Bruce Almighty routine before I could even ask about his authenticity. `` Yes, there's simply no way around it I'm afraid, my child.'' He replied, His words, while quiet, were confident and soothing. `` So you just pulled two random people from the globe to compete for their newly granted powers? This competition is ridiculous! You look so stereotypical and this is the random type of bullshit you come up with? You've got the robe, the beard, the staff, the sandals, fucking sandals...'' I broke off incredulously. `` Your opponent has already agreed to the terms and rules of this challenge. Son, I made you for this, accept this challenge and compete to replace me as God. Accept this and accept your destiny.'' He Spoke to me, his words coming out as a whisper yet hitting me harder than bricks. My palms clammy, and stomach heavy I looked up to meet his eyes. They met mine, holding care and hopeful longing. `` I accept'' I replied, as excitement and relief swept over his features. `` Amazing'' he said clapping his hands together ``, as of now the competition has started, first person who shits will lose. I wish you the best of luck.'' He said before disappearing.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 303, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0208", "text": "'t like to talk politics,'' he said sternly. I clucked. `` Well, at least keep away from that vigilante. I know what the media says, but I don't trust him to tell the good from the bad. I know they say he never kills, not directly, but concussions can ruin lives, Dalt. If you get knocked out and left tied up in front of the police station like some common criminal, you might not wake up yourself. And... and then where I would I be?'' And even if the stories were true, that he was truly fighting the corruption of the city from within, it just wasn't feasible. You'd never save the world by going after street thugs and drug kingpins. You needed to think bigger. Much bigger. He didn't have a plan. His eyes glittered as he laughed. `` If I were a criminal, Ben, I'd be anything but common.'' I let myself fall back onto my pillow, and laughed involuntarily. `` That,'' I said, `` is certainly true.'' Dalton took that as his cue to leave. But not without a goodnight kiss. I turned over to face the empty wall as the love of my life finished getting dressed for what I could at least hope was a shorter run than normal. I heard the creak of the door open, and the `` mrrow!'' of our cat Stanley sneaking into the room. `` Let him in,'' I murmured, to save Dalton the trouble of catching him. `` Goodnight, Ben,'' he sang. And, `` Don't forget, tomorrow's election day. You want to change the world, vote that asshole out of office.'' The door closed, and it was a good thing I had chosen not to turn towards it. The look on my face was stony, determined. Tomorrow, I was going to stop holding back for real. Tomorrow, the lines would be drawn. My connections at the weapons facility would finally serve me after the other way around. In one fell swoop, everything was going to change. `` Mrrow?'' Stanley chirped as he leapt onto my bed in front of me. I stroked my beautiful, fluffy white cat gently behind the ear, and looked into his eyes. `` There's not going to *be* an election,'' I snarled.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 479, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0209", "text": "The Pop Idols, as they have been taken to calling themselves, count on their catchy tunes and simple melodies to command the weak willed. As such, they have command over most of the land. Only the Bluesmen of the South and the Grunge Lords of the Pacific manage a hold over their lands. As they try to keep life as normal as possible with their grounded tones, few rouge Idols wander into their territories, seeking to rule over all of what was North America. I try to live my life in seclusion nowadays. After the events of my last skirmish some four years ago, when my power began to manifest, I decided that I had to learn control to avoid the near destruction of my town. Plus, being hunted by the Idols tends to keep a lively jolt in ones step. Just outside of the Grudge Capital Seattle, in a town now know as Veddersberg, I make a living repairing the strings and kits of other musicians. There tales of battle and small victories over Pop Idols worry me. More and more repairs are having to be made. I decided it was only a matter of time before they come. I did not know it would be tonight. Under the cover of darkness, the Pop Idols amassed a force of Stadium Rockers and Rap Rockers to overload the town with earthquakes and confusion spells. The Grudge Lords begin to amass an offensive of their own, with mumbled lyrics and crafty rifts scattering some of the Idols forces. I wait in my home, for I know what is to come next. Suddenly, a large clap is heard. A blonde haired girl drops down with a piano, General Swift as I thought, and she mixes her country and pop together to force down her foes with several bars of You Belong with Me, healing her soldiers with Shake it off. Before too long, the Grunge Lords kneel helplessly as she finishes them off with keystroke of her massive piano. My love has perished among the ranks. The forces approach my door, Swift smiling at the destruction she has brought. It is time. My throat begins to vibrate, my stomach tightens, and my growl deepens. The Pop Idols stand stunned as the earth around them begins to break and open, sending dozens falling into the shallow ground. Before they can pull themselves out, my army of Berserkers grab hold of their victims, slashing violently at their prey. As Swift attempts", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0210", "text": "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 wasn't for you, I never would have gotten out, so thanks for that.'' `` So this is how they repay me? I clean the streets of crime, and filth, and this is how THEY repay ME?!'' he screamed. `` AAAAAAGHH'' He lunged at me with surprising speed. I could tell he had been busy that night and was tired, but the man was on a mission. I can respect that. He led with a punch aimed for my head which a quickly dodged and countered with a kick to his knee, which lowered him just far enough for me to land a punch directly to his temple, sending him tumbling backwards. Clearly he had seen better days, but I would not underestimate him, which would prove to be a smart decision. He recovered almost instantly and flung a flurry of batarangs my way, all of which I successfully managed to block with skillfully placed maneuvers with my katanas, except for one, that struck my left shoulder. I fumbled backwards and caught myself on a brick wall. I looked up just in time to see a gloved fist headed for my head, and ducked before it made contact. His fist crashed into the brick, giving me a chance to dive to safety and regain the upper hand. He turned to me, staring into my soul. His eyes were wild with such rage that I would have guessed him to be a wild animal. `` Just DIE!'' he shouted, his voice sounding like it had been filled with gravel. `` I am the HERO! I am the SAVIOR of this city.'' I drew my pistol from it's holster, but before I could aim it he was already on me. He quickly had me", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0211", "text": "had been cancer in almost every major organ. He raised one hand to his stomach, his fingers splayed out over his skin, imagining the little tumour cells dividing just centimetres beneath his palm. His stomach lurched again, and he nearly retched. His fingers were trembling now, and he couldn't help but wonder whether it was from nerves, or the metastases burrowing their way into his brain. He wondered if it hurt to die. ***** *18th February 2018* Matthew pressed the button for the eighth floor. As the lift doors shut, he collapsed back against the wall, letting his legs rest for a few seconds. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and continued to scroll through the paper he'd been reading: another recently published case study on - well - himself. He felt his eyes skimmed across the screen. Between the seemingly interminable sections of incomprehensible medical jargon, random ( all too familiar ) phrases jumped out at him. 'It was found that ML's cancer cells had essentially replaced his healthy tissue.' '-first known case of cancer cells differentiating to form relatively normal organs, as evidenced by histopathology that showed that...' '-kept under control only by radical and frequent chemotherapy and radiotherapy.' Matthew clicked his phone off, staring for a moment at his reflection on the empty screen. His cheekbones were prominent on his pale face, his temples hollow where the muscle seemed to have wasted away. He missed his thick, brown hair - not least because he'd discovered, to his dismay, that he had a rather unattractively shaped skull. Curse his luck. The lift binged, and doors opened. Matthew forced himself back onto his feet and followed the 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0212", "text": "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 couldn't read. Something sad but proud. The silence seemed to last longer than it ought to have, though it was probably just my imagination. He seemed to be struggling to come up with the right words. Normally he shrugged off my protests, but every so often you could tell he wanted to say more. Maybe one day he'd be ready. `` Ben, I...'' he said, barely audible over the hum of the dehumidifier. He smiled decisively. `` Not as important as you, babe.'' Dalton took the seat next to me, and I shimmied my way up to make horizontal eye contact. `` I just worry about you,'' I said. `` You know there are all kinds of thugs out there. I'd feel a lot better if we could just get out of this crap city. You know it's not going to get any better for people like us after that insane homophobe Mayor Presley --'' He just sighed. `` You know I don't like to talk politics,'' he said sternly. I clucked. `` Well, at least keep away from that vigilante. I know what the media says, but I don't trust him to tell the good from the bad. I know they say he never kills, not directly, but concussions can ruin lives, Dalt. If you get knocked out and left tied up in front of the police station like some common criminal, you might not wake up yourself. And... and then where I would I be?'' And even if the stories were true, that he was truly fighting the corruption of the city from within, it just wasn't feasible. You'd never save the world by going after street thugs and drug king", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0213", "text": "I hated doing this, ibutI had to. It was always the same. The peeling wallpaper in the train compartment, The uncomfortable seats, the boring English countryside, father's breath ticking away the time. I had to sit perfectly still or father would start to get angry, and he did terrible things while calm, he was horrible when he was angry. `` You must be calm. This is a dance we are doing. We must be perfect or it will all go terribly. I would be most upset if things went poorly.'' My father spoke with a perfect cadence, every word a measured thing. `` I know this, Father. I hate that you do it this way. That you must make me do these things. It's terrible.'' I mumbled softly while watching the clock. It was three fifty-seven am. The plan was to go into effect at four. `` We have spoken on this. You will continue to do as instructed. I will hear no more of this.'' Father explained, his voice hard and cruel. The next three minutes were horrible. We sat there in perfect silence, both of us watching the clock. Once it stroke seven I stood and opened the train door. I waved down one of the workers, She waved back and started walking my way. The plan had to start exactly at four, four hours after the train set off from London. This was the time when the worker would be finishing her rounds and not be noticed for another three hours. I stepped back into the carriage and sat down. Father smiled at me from where he hid behind the door. The stewardess peaked her head in a question on her lips. I spoke my lines, they had been practiced a thousand times before father said I got them right. `` Oh. I don't mean to bother, but the blinds on this window are tricky and the sun is blinding.'' As I spoke I knew the girl's fate was sealed. She stepped into the carriage to fix the blind. My father moved quickly, as he plunged a knife into the girl's neck. She did not have time to scream before crumpling to the floor. `` You see boy. Nobody can take this from us. This was a perfect plan. Nobody will know what happened to her. All the waiting was worth it.'' He always loved his speeches after a kill. I moved just as quickly as he did when I buried my own knife into his spine. `` You always plan to much", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0214", "text": "breaking the silence between us, his ears face had started to redden and his body looked stiff. He only stared back. “ It ’ s warm, and I have a spare bedroom you could use. If you don ’ t like it, you don ’ t have to stay. ” There was something in eyes. Something of a look of wonder, or hope, or sadness. He nodded, and stood, all without saying a word. The trip seemed far shorter than the trip there, passing screaming vendors and flashing lights until we arrived at my house. The inside of the house fiercely juxtaposed the outside, dim and quiet and greeted us with a heat that felt unnatural as we entered. “ There ’ s a washroom down there. ” I said pointing down the hallway then taking my coat back from him. “ Living room is there, make yourself at home. I ’ ll make some tea. ” The man sat himself down on the couch as I walked into the kitchen. Minutes later I walked in the room to be greeted with the man almost asleep. “ So ” I began “ What ’ s your name? ” “ Chris. ” He spoke, his voice as soft as the falling snow. I looked down. I wasn ’ t sure what to say. “ That ’ s…A nice name. ” I chuckled to myself and took a sip of the tea. “ Why? ” his voice cutting in sharp in the night. “ Hm? ” “ Why are you doing this? You invite a stranger into your home. For all you know, I could be a murderer or a thief or a- “ “ Well, are you? ” I cut in. “ Well, uh, ” He looked down “ no. ” “ Well that ’ s good that ’ s established. ” The silence stretched on a while more. “ I know what its like. ” I said, “ I know what it ’ s like to be lost, and lonely and to have nowhere to go. All I wanted when I was out on that bench was someone to take me in, to give me a nice hot cup of tea. No questions asked. So, that ’ s what I did. ” He turned to me, with his eyes, his sad eyes, a shimmering grey. “ I ask nothing in return. ” With that we talked, and talked until morning, until one of us had fallen asleep in the quiet company of the other. I awoke to", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0215", "text": "for what I guessed was my throat. I only saw a flash, and then... nothing. Hideyoshi stood there with his sword thrust out in front of him, only the blade was missing. `` Are you alright?'' a gentle voice called, and my attention was drawn to a girl now behind the Black Dragons. She had shoulder length pink hair, and was wearing a normal uniform - except for the large guards that covered her forearms. In her left hand, she held the blade of Hideyoshi's sword. All I could do was gawp at her. By now, the other two had noticed her as well. `` What the hell? Why you...!'' Sakamura called out, holding his arms out from his sides and then brining them center, focusing energy into a ball. `` Take this!'' he shouted as he fired a blinding projectile at the pink-haired girl. The projectile was heading straight for her and then suddenly arced upwards into the sky as a new girl, this one with long green hair, slapped it away. `` Ohhohoho, you're getting sloppy, Sakura,'' she said to the first girl, and then with blinding speed landed a body blow in Sakamura's stomach, knocking him out completely. Taro began casting some kind of spell, but was instantly shut down by a mass of shadow that extended from yet another girl, this one with a different school's uniform and short purple hair. `` Mission complete,'' she said softly. She snapped her fingers and Taro fell to the ground, unconcious. All of this happened in the span of about 20 seconds. The pink-haired girl and the green-haired girl started bickering back and forth, and the purple-haired came up to me and silently bowed. I was at a loss. These girls may have just saved my life... but why? `` Um... thank you very much! You're all very impressive - but why did you risk yourselves to save me?'' Sakura, the pink-haired girl, turned to me and said `` Didn't you know? We're going to be living with you starting today. We can't let our housemate get beaten up, it would look bad. Plus, it's not like any of us have feelings for you... or anything...'' she trailed off and looked away, slightly red-faced. It felt like my jaw dropped to the floor. These girls? Moving in? How was that", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0216", "text": "Part two, as requested. I wasn't sure where to put this, so I'm just going to comment a second time. -- - We started our way slowly through the tunnels. I can't say I was pleased to be following a crack-pot around, but at least he wasn't wearing tin foil on his head. Yet. We twisted and turned in the tunnels, and I waited for the moment when he would announce we had made it to the end. Instead, he tilted a hand drawn map this way and that. I wasn't sure where he had procured it from. He had said they didn't know the way out, so what was with the map, anyways? It seemed to me we were lost. I didn't say anything though, as these might be the last people left in our town. A familiar sound echoed around us. We all froze in our tracks. `` Is that the sound of a baby's cry?'' The teenage girl whispered. We all exchanged uneasy glances between us. She instinctively started towards it, and I grabbed her arm. `` Don't.'' I whispered to her. My voice was harsher than I intended it to be. I saw tears in her eyes and she scowled at me for a heated second. The look melted away. Her eyes grew distant and misty. `` What if it's my baby sister?'' She barely managed to say the words, her throat was so tight. I felt my eyes close. This was worse than finding survivors after a tornado. Worse than seeing mangled bodies on the road. This was real, I had to tell myself. We were being hunted. This wasn't a freak accident 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 492, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0217", "text": "'Great,' the genie thought,'another nut job. Why can't I get anyone normal for a change? Well, might as well toy with this one too.' The genie smiled and bowed his head. `` Pleasure to meet you, Abe!'' `` Abdul!'' `` Whatever. Listen, I'm here to serve your needs. Your wish is literally my command. Where would you like to start?'' Abdul thought about this for a minute. Anything his heart desired? Why not indulge himself with a reward for finding such a magnificent weapon against his enemies? He clapped his hands twice, `` Genie, I wish for one hundred virgin wives. Now!'' `` It is as good as done!'' Genie snapped his fingers and in a giant cloud of blue smoke appeared one hundred women wearing hijabs. `` There you go, one hundred virgin wives!'' Abdul panted like a Pavlovian dog as he chose which wife he wanted to start with. He chose the first one he saw. He grabbed her arm and stared into here eyes. `` You and I will return to my home at once and make glorious children to continue my bloodline.'' She screamed and pulled her arm from his grip. She yelled something in a language Abdul did not understand. The other women heard her and removed their hijabs. One hundred beautiful, Russian UFC fighters charged at Abdul and left him broken, beaten, and scarred. The crowd of women let out their battle cry and charged towards the city. Abdul's pain kept him from moving an inch. `` Oh, sorry Abe,'' Genie said, `` I didn't know what kind of women you were into.'' He lifted him up against his will. `` How about we try again? Got anything in mind?'' Abdul let out a frustrating groan and stared daggers at the genie. `` You pathetic worm. Fine, I wish for the Western World to be destroyed! Now, no one will fall under their evil influence and they will follow Allah's true way of living.'' He smiled deviously at the genie. `` Consider it done, Abe.'' Genie snapped his fingers. Abdul looked around and waited for something to happen, but nothing did. He didn't know what to expect. `` Well, did you destroy it or not?'' `` Sure I did!'' Genie said pulling a newspaper out of thin air. `` Look, see? Westworld is officially cancelled! That's what you wanted", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0218", "text": "`` Are you ready Captain?'' I looked over at the eager young man standing in the doorway. I briefly look him up and down, noting the wide smile on his face and the shiny cleanliness of his power armor. I looked back down at my own weapons and went back to chambering rounds into my rifle. `` Kid, I told you to stop calling me that. My days in the military were done a long time ago. You can just call me Matt like everybody else.'' `` But you're here aren't you?'' I chuckled to myself and shook my head. `` Kid the only reason I'm here is to find my brother. If I didn't think that Ben was somewhere on these chunks of rock, I wouldn't have left Mars to come back here.'' With that I turned back to my desk and began cleaning the slide on my pistol, hoping that the boy would go away. Instead he walked over and sat down by my side. `` What makes you think your brother is here sir?'' I sighed and sat down the pistol before resting my head in my hands. `` Again, Don't call me sir. I'm not in your military anymore. He was a Marine fighting in Nigeria during the Third World uprising.'' The boy nodded. `` Wait, then why was he here when the Coalition dropped the bombs?'' I glanced at him and rolled my eyes. `` They don't teach you much in those Coalition schools do they?'' `` Sir?... I mean, Matt?'' I turned to face him and began to tell him the proclamation that I had memorized. `` Coalition Reports on the Evacuation of U.N. Troops: Operation Axum. January 19, 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. `` Do", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0219", "text": "Demitri slicked his oily hair back so the part was nice and even. Being the taxi service for lost souls was no fun anymore, after years of pleading for mercy before being sent into the pits of hell, he hoped to find someone who wouldn't beg him for mercy, that's where his Demon virtues ran out. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he made his way up the hotel elevator, his destination.. Room 316. A young man had taken his own life after being rejected from a marriage proposal. `` Damn sentiment. Gets'em every time.'' He said as he read his objective list, his boss, Satan. Had a bad habit sometimes of being a bit of a micromanager, making sure everything went EXACTLY as planned. By the time Demitri was on the floor of the `` stiff'' Liza was just arriving at the scene of her next pickup for the man upstairs. She was dressed in a white evening dress with fur neckline. Liza, an angel whose afterlife consisted of floating and squeaky clean living.. White was becoming a bit overused. Hell..She said Hell! How exhilarating! Hell, white was the big guy's favorite color! But she had a wonderful afterlife, minus the work.. She hated this part. Having to play judge for the lost souls, even if they went upstairs or down. Both parties were required to be present by celestial order, or some silly tripe like that, what she wouldn't give to run away and do something exciting again! She straightened out her dress and hastily made her way to the room. Room 316. Demitri was lazily spinning in the office chair, avoiding any work that could be done. Not that he didn't want to, he'd love nothing more than to send this poor sap into the brimstone and be on his way, maybe he could enjoy himself up here for a while. Y' know, just enjoy being on the lobby floor of the universe for a while. `` I know there was a'Do not disturb' sign on the door, but in your case, I'll make an exception.'' He smiled up at her with eyes that could see through any poker face. Liza did not return the coy greeting. `` let's just get to work. These sort of things don't give us pleasure upstairs as it must give you all on the bottom floor.'' She said not even looking at him,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0220", "text": "`` Hey!'' I shouted. `` I'm not insane, you can't keep me in here!'' The door resisted my attempts to knock it over. My thin coat proudly proclaimed'Pizza World!' across my back. It was new, I had only had the job a few months. Just enough to make a little money to go to a community college. It itched, and I had always hated it, but it was money. I had been a week away from moving to a college town, to finally get my degree. And then this idiot thought I was one of his flock to coral, a loony to rot in a loony bin. I never should have taken this job. A worn voice coughed a laugh next to me. `` Heh,'' the voice croaked, `` This again huh? Alright. I can do this one last time.'' `` Hey!'' I said. It was hard to contain the hope from bursting out from my chest. Another person! And he sounded sane! He must be a staff member, I thought. He can fix this all up. He can explain this, and get me out! `` I think there's been a mixup, can you get me out of here?'' I asked hopefully. `` I didn't tell my girlfriend where I would be going, thought it was just another quick pizza run. Get me out of here, will ya?'' There was a pause. `` There ain't no mixups in the Dragon's Den sonny,'' the voice said finally. Regret was thick in his voice. It was a voice of an old, broken man. Full of dust and spiders, choking on dreams long lost. I hoped I would never have to seen the owner of such a voice, such a creature must surely be broken and lost. Maybe he wasn't my solution after all. Hope began to drain out of me. `` What... what do you mean? Isn't this the cities Insane Asylum? This place is supposed to help people.'' I said. I was claustrophobic, and the minuscule cell seemed to be growing smaller by the minute. I had to get out. `` You're new here, so I'll try to get you to know what you expect. That way you don't have to learn for yourself,'' the voice said. `` My names Hill. Been here a long time, I have.'' The voice stopped,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0221", "text": "it was the last towel in the world. Aubrey sat cross legged facing Katie, wearing a devilish grin. Katie took a deep breath, then another one. She counted to ten in her head. More deep breathing. She focused on the wind, which seemed as if it was trying to tear the building down. After several minutes, she regained some semblance of composure. `` Why?'' ``... did it do it?'' Aubrey was loving the tension. `` No, actually. Not why, how?'' Aubrey leaned back andran her hands through her hair. `` Easy to make fake blood. My brothers and I learned way back when. We would make home movies in our backyard. You need some red food dye, cocoa powder for the darker color, and some baking powder to thicken it. Mix that with water, and you've got realistic looking blood. `` I unscrewed the shower head and poured that mixture in there, so when you ran the water through it, it came out as blood.'' Katie gave her a bemused look. `` And what time is it?'' `` Oh, round about,'' Aubrey checked her phone dramatically, `` five-ten in the morning.'' Katie grimaced, `` I take it you changed my alarm clock too.'' `` Yup!'' Katie rubbed the residue of the fake blood from her face. `` Chris was in on this too, I can only assume. Where is he?'' `` Actually no,'' Aubrey replied scornfully. She rubbed her temples. `` I would have brought him in, but the damn lump of muscle is passed out cold. Couldn't wake him if you hit him on the head with a frying pan.'' `` He didn't sound so comatose last night.'' `` Yeah,'' Aubrey grinned mischievously, and tossed her black hair over her shoulder. `` I have my special ways with the likes of him. Nothing a good girl like you would understand.'' `` Shut up.'' Already the shock of the shower was wearing off of Katie. It was all a prank. She stood up, and wrapped the towel around herself. `` Let's clean up this mess you've made. I have to take a real shower before work.'' Aubrey rose gracefully. `` I'll get some scrubbers and cleaning solution from the kitchen.'' Katie nodded, and returned to the bathroom. The water was still running, and Katie could now see that it was fake blood", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0222", "text": "*. I'm... an uncle? My brother was a *father*? What... She coughed out a sob. `` I have end-stage lung cancer, due to not smoking but from an infection in a not very well sterilized operation room. I don't have long to live. I know you're his brother you look just like him!'' She came closer. She was a... pleasant woman. Wavy locks of brown, deep brown eyes. Plump cheeks. She was nice. I knew what she was asking of me, why she couldn't ask our parents. They were long dead. She hovered over my straps, and I nodded. She undone me, and I sat up. `` May I see the child?'' She nodded with tears in her eyes, and whisked up something out of the crib nearby. She tilted the babe. She, and it was a she, had curled black hair like my brother. Sleeping. The mother sniffed. `` I know you... kill people. And I know some may find that reprehensible, but honestly I also know how you are with kids, how your brother was. I have faith in you.'' I agreed. I loved kids. I would love this niece of mine, this daughter of my brother. I gently took her away, understanding when the mother's arms tightened even for a moment before relaxing. She gave me instructions: feedings with formula, or the milk in the fridge. I could take it all home, along with the crib and the toys and anything. Finally, she stood stock still, a woman with a plan. `` I can't suffer any longer. Would you...?'' I nodded again, and gently covered the little girl in my arms, moving the blanket over the tiny, tiny ears. She left. I knew what she was going to do, and so I went outside, and I coddled my new found family. And I waited. I gathered up the child's belongings, made it seem like, say, a kidnapping, then put in a 911 saying that someone was shot. I left. The child, her name was Keke. A wonderful name. I think I'll stop killing, just... just for a while. So I can get in the swing of things with her... just a little while...", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 470, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0223", "text": "favourite movie. You heard of it?'' `` Of course. Happens to be one of my favourites too,'' he said, sitting up. `` What were you doing out here, by the way?'' I asked. `` I didn't see any ships in the storm.'' `` Oh, I just happen to follow storms quite a bit. You could say I like to clean up the messes they leave behind.'' I noticed then how cold the night truly was. Wrapped around me was my Thermo blanket and it was keeping me warm, but Rudy had nothing but a swimsuit. `` Aren't you cold,'' I asked. `` I think I have another blanket in my emergency kit.'' `` Me? Heck, no. I don't get cold,'' he said. `` Nope, nope, the cold doesn't bother me.'' `` So you're like that marathon runner that runs shirtless in the winter time,'' I said. `` The Iceman, I think his name is?'' Rudy laughed again. `` I guess you could say that. But the'man' part might be a bit of a stretch.'' His comment caught me off guard. I looked at his with a more careful eye as the moon grew higher in the sky. Somehow I never noticed the set of wings on his back. `` You're an angel?'' I asked. `` Yes, Alex Nuible,'' he said. `` The passage into death is a traumatic one, but every so often we get the chance to see death coming in people. You've been out to sea for awhile now and with that storm, it was all but definite that the storm would take you.'' I realized then the reason I couldn't remember seeing 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 492, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0224", "text": "telepath bar was genius: chance to slip away from watchful spouses without'leaving' the house, bitch about normal people stubbornly'misunderstanding' your projections... Of course, while no one would say it, it was good to meet with like-minded, people. Unlike minded people ( calling them lesser-minder was... Old fashioned ) were trying. Oh and at this bar, no hangovers. -Ah finally! Can I get a beer, two beers, three beers- hey I thought we weren't teleling in here, speak with your mouths numbskulls! Thomas, currently behind the bar inside his own mind, looked a wreck. -three beer? -sigh, no, six. I'm not going to pay attention next time FYI. Yes Janet that includes you. Every other night they'd crowd themselves into someone's brain, gatecrashing their hipothomus and serving from their cervix. It used to be a constant rotation of heads/bars, way of keeping it fresh and hush hush - party in Clintons brain VIP Only - until the sheen of travelling wore, off. And, also, they one brain they particularly liked. - Would you get your elbows out of my childhood memories please? Thank you! Because it was empty. Thomas Pearson, 27, ex-lawyer, was currently unsure of where he was. Part of him was a compliant and absent bartender, and was aware of a racket in his brain, though trying to hear it was like trying to scratch the itch of a missing limb, or bite your own ear. Some other part of him, some scared and lost part, was trying to ring alarm bells. He was sleep walking. - Did you lot hear anything? - only your drunken ramblings, could you turn the trauma down a little- - No seriously, there's this- The bar shook. Thomas dozed upright behind the bar. -This is a psychological projection, a shared abstract space. A metaphor. Metaphors don't shake. -This one just did. -Does anyone know where are? Like, are are? No one did. That kind of detail was for people with bodies to worry about. The bar shook again. Shane was the first to pull himself together. - I know who knows. Elbowing his way through the wide-eyed and suddenly unpleasantly sober crowd, he grabbed Thomas by the collar, pulling him over the counter", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0225", "text": "of the older children stayed behind to help her to her feet. `` Thank you, thank you,'' she said as she hauled herself upward and positioned herself over her cane. `` Run along now.'' They scattered as well, leaving her alone with her thoughts and memories, watching as they ran back to families and friends that she made possible with the sweat of her brow and the flesh of her back. No, I must not think those thoughts, she thought. I am not special to them. Not any more. There was a time when she was hailed as a hero, a time she remembered. The fire had purified her somehow, and after the Huns had fallen she emerged like a fiery dragon from the embers, ready to lead their great land. But her husband and his brothers weren't ready, and the old ways fell back into place. Soon she was a mother, and then a grandmother, and now she was a memory, an artifact of an earlier time, a relic consigned to the museum of the past, a curiosity worth little more than a passing glance. `` Oh, she told us she fought the Huns,'' they would say. `` Oh, they say she donned her father's armor,'' they chatted. `` But how could that be?'' Sometimes she looked out over the palace grounds, and she could still feel the heat from the flames and taste the soot in her mouth. She felt the weight of the blade in her hands as she danced across the rooftops, nimble and lithe. She remembered how her prince had looked at her as he realized the truth, saw her for what she was instead of what she pretended to be. With a pang of guilt, she longed for those days, and not for the first time. `` Is this what happily ever after feels like?'' she wondered aloud, and then, leaning her weight on her gnarled cane, she stepped out of the temple and downwards, her shoulders weighed down with the past.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 404, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0226", "text": "a movie theater. I fall back into my seat; I have a leather seat, it appears. I hear a voice, not quite Morgan Freeman but not far off. It narrates a light show blasting out. The dark room Burt's into white, and then chunks of all this GS and everything are flying by. I can feel the air they displace towards me. But slowly. It's like I'm just sitting in space. Slowly, a huge orb forms beneath until it's recognizable. It's earth. It starts off slow and with mostly oceans for a long time, and now I see humans. I blinked, and some Catholic knight turns into a US Marine. What? I think this is one of those things in museums that simulates space. I can gather my thoughts now. I see ships launching away from Earth now. Then I fall into Earth, deep into a forest in what I thought was an ocean. Uhm. The hell's going on? There's a cabin up ahead a little ways away. Holy hell, it's truly freezing. I stumble through the snow, and I'm here now. There's no door handle. I brush the door with my hand, and it moves anyways. It's a log cabin, but there's a white desk sitting I the middle. The top glows bright blue with a hologram, showing the area around the cabin. Suddenly, an alarm blares, and the hologram turns red. Red arrows flood the hologram and head towards the cabin. 4 arrows, one on each side, all massive. The white sides fold down, unveiling two large machines on each side. They look like guns of some sort. I don't think they're a thing yet, but the term laser cannon should fit them adequately. I pick up one and it takes 2 hands; I hang onto it while the 4 arrows begin penetrating the walls. They all break down, and the roof falls into me. I fall unconscious. I awaken back in the RV, and it's lighter now. The same guy from earlier brings me a glass of water. Looking into his face now, he seems familiar. I remember his face was there when the walls of the cabin fell. But there's something more. I don't know. He takes off his glasses, and tucks them into my pocket. I'm too tired to do anything at this point. He carries me to the door and I feel", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0227", "text": "It was a warm summer day and I was out for a stroll. I saw them on the other side, walking down the sidewalk, two by two. I didn't pay much attention until they passed under the glow of the gaslamp. Never had I seen such an pair of opposites! For the brief time they walked under it, the light illuminated the pair. The man's limbs and head were covered in scars! What I had mistaken for a beard was a mass of scars! His arms and legs were so densely overrun that I had thought it a coat and trousers! The woman had black hair, long and straight, as if it were manufactured string by string. But her skin is what shocked me, even greater than the man! It had the most exquisite complexion, almost translucent in the light, and I saw nary a flaw on it. I looked to my own marred hands, although compared to that man, it was a blessing; as I worried, small cuts formed on my arm. It began to sting as my sweat seeped into my fresh wounds. Not wanting more scars, I shook my negative thoughts and ran to the couple. `` Sir,'' I exclaimed, `` Excuse my frankness sir, but I must inquiry, how is it that your wife is so beautiful, yet you are so….'' The man and woman looked at each other, she turned away, blushing, and he laughed raucously. `` Hideous?'' asked the man between laughs. `` N-n-o,'' I stammered, embarrassed by my rudeness. `` Don't worry,'' he said, putting his arm around my shoulder, `` I get it all the time.'' `` My apologies sir, but how, in this world, did your wife manage to keep from scarring?'' `` Well, you see,'' he said with a wink, `` she's not my wife, but my daughter.'' I was taken aback. `` Still….How?'' `` Well, she's not entirely flawless. She can't tell a joke and her cooking's lousy! Takes after her mother I guess!'' Laughing, he said, `` Take a look at her finger.'' I peered at the daughter, she offered her right hand and I saw a thin bright streak of red on her index finger. The man pulled me in, `` I'm gon na tell you a story.'' `` Long ago, when I was married, I swore", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0228", "text": "stone arch. It was carved out of the same dark stone as the floor. Intricate carvings were etched into the entire arch. “ Why is there an arch standing by itself down here? And what language is that? ” Mark asked. He walked around in the large arch in a circle. The carvings were present on the other side. “ It looks almost like Latin but it definitely isn ’ t. ” Mark reached his hand out and pressed it against the dark stone. It was warm to the touch. “ I think this is the exact center of the air bubble. ” Mark said to himself. “ Whatever it is, it ’ s ancient. ” Darrel replied. A low whistle and click came from somewhere in the darkness. “ What was that? ” Erin whispered. Mark began backing away from where the sound came from. Erin and Darrel followed quietly. The whistle and click came again. Louder, more urgent. A whistle responded off to their right. A click came from their left. Mark ’ s light reflected off of something. Metallic scales and sharp claws was all he could see before it backed out of the light. They were being surrounded. “ Run. ” They turned and sprinted. There was nowhere to run but it felt better than waiting in Mark ’ s opinion. Their lights bobbed up and down as they ran. Darrel turned his head to see if he could see their pursuers. His foot found air instead of stone and he his body pitched forward. Screaming he tumbled down rough stone stairs. Mark and Erin raced down the stairs after him. They found him in a heap at the base of the stairs. Sweat beading on his brow and his face twisted 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0229", "text": "startled up, sweating, cold, naked. His teeth clattered together. He looked around at his surroundings, confused as to where he was, the pain of his death as fresh as the first time, the time he burned. He was back in the void, back on the same platform. Yes, he thought. Where I am a God once more. He stood, his legs weak and... strange, somehow. He looked down. The skin on his legs was flawless. Pale. Smooth. He raised his hands in front of him. Clean. His glove gone. He squeezed his hands into fists, stretched each finger out in front of him. Disbelief. What has happened… Stop. Something there, out in the darkness. Moving.... ah........haha............ Growing. Growing. He edged backwards, away from the noise. ahahha.......hahhaaahhee....... Louder, painful. The cold stone grew in his gut as the sound inched forward. HahaHHHAAHAHA....HHEEEEEE HHHEEE OOOOOOOOHHHH HHHEEEEEEE A figure in purple skipped gleefully towards him, a white face dancing up and down in the dark. Kreuger felt his pulse race, sweat forming under his arms and on his forehead. What was it? Where am I? Laughing, laughing, LAUGHING Silence. The figure was gone. Krueger scrambled on the floor, turning in every direction, trying to grow wings, to find his glove, to jump away. Nothing. He sat and heaved his breath. Staring. Waiting. And then, a whisper. Behind him. `` Now THAT'S a story.'' Krueger turned. The thing from the dark stroked the deep scars on either side of its mouth with a rusted straight razor. It giggled. `` My turn.'' -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - edit - a word", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 404, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0230", "text": "`` Disengaging from primary module. Do you copy?'' `` Copy, Solo 1. Confirm separation.'' `` Separation complete.'' `` Looks good. Ready when you are, Commander.'' `` Roger that. Engaging thrusters.'' Gazing upon the comet, Commander Harrison felt consumed by his awareness of its gravitational pull as he had for many months in this mission. Everything had centered around this grand celestial meeting. Now finally up close, the comet looked more lovely than he had imagined. The pull was so much stronger now, defying his most basic fears. Those deadly gaseous streams whirled off the comet's surface, in a dance both beautiful and terrifying. Harrison's approach was precise and controlled. Thrusters on full, his craft shuddered through clouds of fine carbon capable of eroding its metal skin. As he approached the thin atmosphere of the comet, he had to swerve to avoid a hail of icy projectiles the size of golf balls. The maneuver drew him toward the comet's sunlit side, where more gaseous jets bubbled through the comet's surface. Suddenly the sun blazed golden through his screens, blinding him for the instant before his eyes snapped shut. He eased back on the throttle and snapped the shielding visor of his helmet into place. `` Mission Control to Solo 1. Report!'' `` Sorry Mission Control. Holding back a little.'' `` Problems?'' `` Couldn't maintain a visual. Making course corrections now. Rendezvous to Comet Ellie is still on.'' `` Proceed Solo 1. Be careful, Toby.'' `` Copy that MC.'' The renewed approach called for a more risky trajectory. Harrison focused all his thoughts on the dark side of the comet, imagining 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0231", "text": "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 mouth on the way down. The girl laughed and pulled a small purple wild flower from James ’ hair and placed it in her own. “ The names Lilly by the way ” she held out her hand. The irony of her smiling at the flower she had placed in her hair as he tried to remove the same from his own suddenly struck James. He found himself laughing. “ James ” he said as he extended his own scratched up hand. “ Well James, it seems you are having a bit of a rough day, how about I take you for a drink, I know a lovely place just around the corner ” “ That sounds great ” Then looking over at the rusty ford in the middle of the road “ But what about your car ”. “ It ’ ll be fine, always is ” When she smiled James somehow found that he actually believed this. He was never a man to leave anything to luck, since he had none, but for once it seemed like luck might be in abundance. The two of them walked together down the sidewalk, a small gap between them. Finally, having recovered his bearings James began to feel oddly shy in front of his rescuer. As they walked he suddenly found that he could not think of anything to say to her, or rather he could thing of plenty but nothing interesting. Wrapped up in his thoughts he missed the small patch of concrete that had been dislodged from the sidewalk in front of him. His strides caused him to catch the toe of his shoe on it. One leg caught behind the other he began to fall, his previous thoughts replaced with a simple “ oh no, not again ”. Then he was caught, an arm entwined in the crook of his elbow lending support. Lilly", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0232", "text": "never have any idea when I'll get the time to see you anymore'' replied Jane. `` It's no worry, you've finally seemed to find a break from it today, I'm really glad you were able to meet up with me, lets grab some coffee?'' And with a knowing nod, Jane took Alex's arm and strolled confidently into the cozy atmosphere of the coffee shop. After a valueless exchange of pleasantries with the barista, they finally got their drinks and a chance to speak with one another at a remote corner of the shop, somehow evaded by others, even though that particular table provided the best natural lighting and relaxing atmosphere among them all. Sitting down, Alex suddenly found himself out of words and and his glance at Jane revealed the same. Oh well, better to start from the bottom. `` The weather today is something straight out of a movie scene, don't you agree? A little light rain here and there mixed with some awfully angry looking clouds, really makes you appreciate the calmness of what can happen to the world.'' Alex quickly stated, weather was always a good topic to start a conversation off of, right? Jane calmly replied, looking worried about what she was about to say `` I really wish I could see the world from your eyes, Alex, today seems totally miserable if we're being honest, just like the last number of them.'' Alex, wanting to probe further into the matter responded back, `` What's the matter? Wasn't it just last week you were telling me that you have been given the opportunity of of a lifetime?'' `` Well, if we're being honest, I certainly thought it was. Sometimes it seems the world just has no sympathy for what 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0233", "text": "“ Trying to remember the last time I saw you here Dennis ” he chuckled, looking through the notes on the screen in front. “ You had a few appointments with the asthma clinic you never turned up to, has everything been fine? ” He gave me that look, the look only a trained doctor can give – that questioning, caring, empathetic gaze which lowers those barriers everyone usually has. I glanced up, “ I don ’ t really like coming to the doctors. I know it sounds childish but I don ’ t like the idea of medicine. Like the idea that there are chemicals, that we as people think is fine to use one year, but then dangerous the next. ” I realised I was rambling, and smiled apologetically “ Basically I just don ’ t usually feel all that unwell, and even when I do I just let my body deal with it, you know? ” My explanation seemed to satisfy him, “ Alright then, so what made you come to this checkup when you ’ ve missed so many in the past? ” I glanced at my watch, I needed to hurry this up. “ I just got back from holiday, doc. We were backpacking across Asia, me and Lisa- “ “ Lisa? ” he cut in, curiosity evident in his voice. “ Oh yeah, keep forgetting how long it ’ s been. My wife, Lisa. She ’ s fine, nags me too much but hey that ’ s life I guess ” a grin slipped unto my face as I continued. “ Yeah she ’ s the reason I ’ m here to be honest with you, she said if I didn ’ t come in I was sleeping on the sofa from now on. So what happened was, I decided to go adventuring on my own, and got bit by a massive mosquito. I hadn ’ t thought about getting immunisations and stuff, like it just seemed unnecessary and now… well now she ’ s worried I have malaria or something, you know how women worry. ” He leant forward, and started typing away something into what I assume were my patient notes. “ Well that ’ s definitely something that would be a worry. Now I ’ m just going to take a blood sample, and we ’ ll let you know if anything comes back. Until then, don ’ t share your food with others, as just a precaution, and don ’ t donate blood in the intrim. ” I ’ d resigned myself to", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0234", "text": "`` It was relativity that did it,'' John said to me. `` I mean, it only makes sense - go close enough to the speed of light and time slows down for you. It's lag! Turns out you can lag the whole universe by forcing it to process frame updates for things moving fast enough.'' `` Right.'' I said. `` Why are you telling me this?'' `` Sorry,'' Jon replied, `` you probably already know this. I mean, I'm coming to you after all.'' `` Yeah, about that.'' I said. `` Why are you here?'' `` I was hoping for some insights. I mean, I know the religion is new and all but you've been-'' `` Wait, what?'' I was taken aback. `` You mean to tell me you've converted?'' He shrugged. `` I'm a man of science, I know proof when I see it. We live in a computer. Seems to me that, as a programmer yourself, you'd have some insight into-'' `` No.'' I said. `` Find a priest or something.'' John seemed confused. `` I thought you were a priest.'' `` The degree is in computer science, not divinity. Honestly, I've been trying to ignore all this mess. I don't want it to be true, I don't want any part of it.'' `` But it is true.'' John said. `` I mean, it's hard to definitively prove you're inside a simulation from the inside, but the lag effects of relativity mean there aren't a lot of other explanations. Why wouldn't you want it to be true? It basically means you're training to be a God.'' `` That's 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,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 493, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0235", "text": "is, admiring the cut of the jacket in the bathroom mirror. I have to edge past her as I step out to let her in. I step out onto the porch and pull out a smoke. If I have to give it up, I'll at least finish the ones I have left. My watch beeps. I wish the car was here already. Probably only a few minutes out. I'm flicking the lighter when her voice comes out muffled from the bathroom. “ What? ” I pull it out of my mouth from habit. “ Where are my earrings with the red stones in them? ” “ I don't know. Did you take them out? ” “ I think so. ” “ Well forget about them. You're just perfect as you are. ” She makes a loud puking sound but she comes out and floats around the bed to join me. The valley to the south is alive with the waves of wind that tear across the canopies, warm and dry. In the distance, on the low hills, I can see cattle grazing. There's pollen in the air. It's a smell that makes you breath greedily. My watch beeps again and I drop to my knee. “ What now? ” “ I want to give you the brightest diamond in the world, but every time I found one it ended up just being another trinket. Junk for consumption. ” “ This is my diamond? ” “ Yes. The cleanest, purest one there is. ” I remember the smoke in my hand and pop it into my pocket for a moment. “ I've given up everything for you. The whole world. ” She tries to smile warmly for me but there are tears in her eyes. They become God's own jewels as the horizon lights up. She takes me in her arms and holds me tight. “ It's perfect. ”", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 382, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0236", "text": "was a very familiar quality to it, as though I had seen him before. I do remember feeling slightly embarrassed when he caught me staring. Even at this particular institution I tried to remember to mind societal norms. It was very trying at times, but my reputation had spared me from any harassment to my person. Later that night, as I sat awake waiting for C.O. Jameson, I started to think even harder on the possible motive for his actions, risky as they were. Why me? I was clearly guilty. I had an audience of witnesses to my crimes. Ah, my poor wife, her poor family. I hadn't meant to murder her in such a manner, heavens no. I believe I had a drop too much, and out it all came, days, and weeks, and months, and years of build-up anger and aggression in one day. I'd have rather slowly poisoned her. But I digress, you know all of this already. The appointed time had come. C.O. Jameson whispered at the cell, asking if I were ready. I approached as he slid open the door, not exactly as silently as I would have liked. He told me to follow him, and I went along behind him, advancing to the front of the main lobby. He turned to me and explained that his father was a ardent reader of my novels, and in fact had been one of my students at Cambridge. C.O. Jameson's father had insisted that I had absolutely no involvement with the death of my wife, and I suppose my young guard, wanting to please his father, had decided to assist in my escape. I asked C.O. Jameson for the name of his father and the year of his enrollment in my course. Phillip Jameson, he told me, and the year was 1962. Ah, yes, I remembered his father quite well. I was his mentor, he, my most prized pupil. He clung to every word I said, and retained even the most complex ideas easily. I suppose I would say he had an almost aggressive desire to learn. I always wondered what had become of him. I left the prison shortly after, but not before asking him to send my kindest regards to his father. I then walked to an area he had indicated, finding a small parcel with a change of clothing and some currency. I made my way quite easily to the home of my only sister, Rosalie. I sat", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0237", "text": "Ryder sighed as he appeared in a familiar ivory white kitchen. He sighed once more when he saw the reason he was there, standing on her tiptoes, trying to reach for a new packet of flour in the too cabinet. `` Got you,'' he heard her whisper as she barely held the item. `` There is such thing as a chair, Karen,'' he spoke up, giving the petite girl a fright and dropping the flour on top of her head. Ryder pressed his lips together, trying his best to stifle his laugh. `` You! This is all your fault!'' Karen said exasperatedly, as she shook flour out of her hair. Ryder picked up a kitchen towel on his way towards her and gently wiped her face clean, `` it's been years, Karen. You should be used to it by now. I don't have any control over it remember.'' Karen held his wrist, stopping him from helping any further, `` i'm sorry. Always am. I couldnt help but unconsciously wished you were here.'' She turned around and started to clean the mess. Before he could say anything else, Karen had asked, `` what were you doing this time around?'' `` With Lana.'' Karen stopped her cleaning, her body tensed up at his girlfriend's name. She quickly stood up, heading towards her room, `` sorry again. You can leave and do whatever I interrupted. I'm just going to clean up first.'' `` Karen...'' Ryder called out but she had already dashed into her room. He sighed for the 3rd time that hour. They dated, they broke up, dated again before finally breaking up once more. But even then, they remained best friends thanks to Aphrodite's little trick. No mattwr how much they tried to stay away from each other, Karen would unconsciously end up needing him, making him appear right before her. This continued to happen even after they had their own partners. However, Michael, who has been with Karen for almost 1 year, could not take it anymore when Ryder had arrived at the hospital before him during ing Karen's accident a month back. It was not that critical, but to see another guy holding your unconscious girlfriend's hand was just the last straw for Michael. 2 weeks later he broke it off. Ryder closes his eyes as he felt his body being transported once more. Hearing the quiet sobs made his heart wrenched. He opened his eyes to", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0238", "text": "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 oil, it melted and dripped off his fingers. `` They deserved it, some off them even liked it'' he yelled meekly, his throat already blistered down into his lungs. `` HAHAHAHAHAAHAHahahahahaaaaa......'' He was losing sight, and he could not hear over the roar and crash of the crumbling machinery. `` Iff thereee isssszzzz somethin... someoneeee withhhhh... the pooooowerrrrrhhuuuuuugghh....'' His throat collapsed. He could not breathe. He screamed in his mind. `` GIVE ME THE POWER TO BRING RETRIBUTION, TO PAY THE PAIN BACK. I HAVE NOT FINISHED MY CALLING! WHATEVER OLD GOD STILL WALKS, BRING ME TO YOU....'' His body was alight, his red and black sweater fusing to his flesh, melting in the orange of the flames. Black. He startled up, sweating, cold, naked. His teeth clattered together. He looked around at his surroundings, confused as to where he was, the pain of his death as fresh as the first time, the time he burned. He was back in the void, back on the same platform. Yes, he thought. Where I am a God once more. He stood, his legs weak and... strange, somehow. He looked down. The skin on his legs was flawless. Pale. Smooth. He raised his hands in front of him. Clean. His glove gone. He squeezed his hands into fists, stretched each finger out in front of him. Disbelief. What has happened… Stop. Something there, out in the darkness. Moving.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0239", "text": "`` You know, I still like the Saw voice better, but I can dig it.'' Jake said `` Is it on Android or iOS?'' He turned around to face the mystery voice, but as he did the noise of the party suddenly died out and he found himself standing on an empty street, his only company the long shadows cast by dim streetlights. He quickly turned back around only to find more empty street, more dim streetlights and more long shadows. There was no rustle in the bushes from the wind, nor did any lights escape any windows, and the night sky was devoid of stars. Jake started to panic, as one does in these situations, but couldn't force himself to move from the worn and cracked sidewalk. Fuck! If Barry hadn't roped him into going to that fucking party he'd still be out there scaring kids with his dope ass costume he made instead of, what he could only assume was, unconscious in an ambulance after a bad trip. He didn't really know how drugs worked, he'd never even gotten wasted before, but he *had* watched a ton of movies and was pretty sure this was one of those drug moments. The wind suddenly picked up, biting cold eating right through the ebony fabric of his cloak. In front of his eyes, Jake's elongated shadow rose up from the ground a being made up from the very absence of light itself. It started to vibrate slightly and before Jake could explore as to why he heard the same voice from before, laughing. `` Do you know why humans fear the dark?'' The shade asked him. Jake didn't know how to respond, and even if he did the clump is his throat was unlikely to let him, so he just stood there. Staring. The shade leaned in closer narrowing what, for his own sanity's sake, Jake assumed were eyes. `` Because it represents the unknown, and what is unknown can not be controlled.'' It tilted it's head slightly. `` And humans love their control, don't they Jake?'' He was close to forming a cohesive thought at this point, but articulating was proving difficult. Eventually he managed to stammer out a wimpy `` W-what do you want?'' `` You see, Jake.'' The shade said `` The thing you want the most, is right in front of you. I will allow you to have the same control of the darkness, of the void, that I", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0240", "text": "they were. He could barely remember things about himself - he just knew he had to get out of Russia. `` I know it's not, something you want to think about, but I have to ask. Everyone needs to know. What is happening in Russia? What are you running from? And why has Russia doubled in temperature?!?'' `` I know it doesn't make sense, but the most I can remember is, the fire, the screaming.'' The man broke down, sobbing, and then let out a scream. `` What is it?'' the woman asked panicked. `` They are dead. They are all dead,'' he cried out in pain, `` They burned. Everyone is burning, fire is everywhere, fire is everything.'' `` Ivan! What are you talking about? How are all of them dead? Who is dead?'' she demanded. `` They gave us something. And then everyone... They just burnt. They combusted... They said they were going to... Purge us,'' he convulsed, seeming to choke, and the woman rushed to his side, putting her hand on his back. He stumbled to the side, away from here, `` It's not safe. I didn't escape. It's happening.'' With that, he held his hand up to his face, inspecting it. A redness glowed, and the skin began to blister and blacken. He could feel the heat growing, it was starting. `` R... Ru... Run!'' he told the woman, before coughing out. It was blood, but the blood was boiling. It sizzled, and his skin started bubbling. His back arched, and he screamed into the sky.. From his fingertips burst fire, and he blackened into a charred hulk. Later that night, after recovering, the woman ran to the console room, alerting her general. `` I know what it is, and it isn't good. It's genocide. It's human combustion,'' she stated breathlessly. ( Sorry I hate writing right away but meh it works ) # practicemakesperfect", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 430, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0241", "text": "Science never could explain what happened. I went in on one side the selected, tested, trained, and celebrated flesh-and-blood hero of Everyone. I came out the other side an inorganic horror. Turned out to be a real help in the Mission, though. Our enemies had fewer counters for this than we had. They were horrifying beasts, ultimate terrors. Predators of anything flesh and blood. I had neither of those things. Throughout long years I hunted them to extinction. I had believed the scientists when they said they thought they could reverse the condition. I expected, by the time that I got back from the Mission, that they would be making progress. They hadn't even tried. And now, with the threat gone, I wasn't even a priority. After a while, even the lip-service to helping me stopped. I wasn't even a concern anymore. I was the least natural thing on the planet. As decades slid past, I went from being a celebrated hero to being a horrifying freak. Though I could walk and talk, what reason did I have? Where would I go? Who would care to trade words with me? One day, I sat down to think. I didn't get up for a long time. With my back to that wall, I pondered who- or what- I was. Clearly, I wasn't a human anymore. What did that mean for me? I'd had a wife, but while I was off destroying an existential threat to her species she apparently got cold at night. Often. Considering her betrayal would make me angry. Not so much from the biological part of things. I hadn't functioned that way in a long time. It was mostly that, even when I recalled finding out, I could never feel a pulse. My heart hadn't beaten since the day I climbed out of that pod, and I'd only had the barest sensation at all. Generally enough to know when I was touching something, or getting bitten, or falling. Or if something was extremely hot. It clashed with my memories. I sat in those memories, and my anger grew. I still had emotions. I had more now than before, because they were all that was left to me. Under the heat of that fury, slowly mounting, my mind began to warp. I knew it was happening. I tried to stop it for a while, but in my still, cold heart there was a dark", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 493, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0242", "text": "try again? Got anything in mind?'' Abdul let out a frustrating groan and stared daggers at the genie. `` You pathetic worm. Fine, I wish for the Western World to be destroyed! Now, no one will fall under their evil influence and they will follow Allah's true way of living.'' He smiled deviously at the genie. `` Consider it done, Abe.'' Genie snapped his fingers. Abdul looked around and waited for something to happen, but nothing did. He didn't know what to expect. `` Well, did you destroy it or not?'' `` Sure I did!'' Genie said pulling a newspaper out of thin air. `` Look, see? Westworld is officially cancelled! That's what you wanted right?'' Abdul screamed into the cloudy desert sky. He started yelling numerous curses and insults at the genie while he tried his best not to laugh. Abdul pulled himself on to his almost broken ankles and slammed his fists against the ground. He started screaming prayers, `` Allah, why have you done this to me?'' Just then, he heard gunfire in the distance. Explosions rose from the hills east of the town and more gunfire was heard. `` What is that? What did you do?'' he asked the genie. `` Oh yeah,'' Genie said rubbing his chin, `` I forgot to mention that the hundred wives you asked for were combat trained by the best soldiers in the world.'' He pulled a spyglass out of this air and pointed it at the battle going on in the hills. Genie whistled, `` Looks like they did not take kindly to your friends.'' Abdul watched in horror as his friends were being massacred in the hills. `` NO! Make them stop 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0243", "text": ", casting orange and yellows and purples, I forgot to breathe. My problems then seemed so small, so insignificant next to him. I quietly kissed him back, and I opened myself up for the world to read my small text of a life not yet lived. Those stolen kisses were nothing sexual. He never tried to advance anything I hadn't wanted. We quietly planned it out. Go to college together. Share a dorm. Rent an apartment. It looked so possible back then, so innocent and normal. For the first time, I actually felt normal. So beautifully, dangerously normal. Until, one day, I fell. My parents went through my phone, our private texts. The brutality I felt that day was nothing compared to the torture I felt when I left the house. I left my mother to my father's drunken fit of rage. I loved my parents, but I knew they no longer felt properly for me. I went to him naturally, like a magnet to metal. Like metal, he felt cold, unmovable when he found out what happened to me. He, too, turned his back with one last hidden kiss. The question came again to me. *Am I wrong? * How though, could anybody be wrong for feeling love. An emotion that I can't even begin to describe. *How can anybody hate* is such a larger and more important question, yet we ask ourselves about love. Love is created in such ways it fills us with unexplainable joy. It's the rays of sun after a storm. The heat after a long, cold winter. We have so many feelings from this four letter word, and we still choose the other. I was scared. I dare not go home, to be thrown in church, beaten, pulled out of school. I took the bus to the nearest city, and I thought that maybe I'd find some help there. The thing is, this world is big. A hand can only reach so far, and last so long before moving onto the next need. I was alone. I was broke. I was alive. So many years of keeping everything in, of holding myself together piece by piece to just have the glue last a little longer. For the first time, I was alive. I was open to the world, no matter how much the world hated me. I was open myself, no matter how much I hated me. I ate from garbage cans, slept in shelters, begged", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0244", "text": "truck this time, huh. Must be in the top ten of my painful experience.'' `` Out of curiosity, what is the number one painful experience you had?'' `` Every single second I spend separated from you.'' I smirked, Azrael scratched his head. `` Well, imagine how painful would it be when your death actually come.'' `` Ah...'' that's right, this white world isn't the Realm of Death, but merely the closest part where the World of the Living and the Realm of Death intersect, the place souls have to pass after dying. `` I'm sorry, that was in a bad taste.'' Azrael fidgeted. `` No problem.'' I sipped my tea agan. `` Say, Reinia?'' `` Yes?'' `` If you could stay here forever, would you discard everything in your world?'' I startled `` That... I can't answer that question... I'm sorry, Azrael. That question is not one I could answer.'' `` But why?'' `` Azrael...'' `` I thought we loved each other, I thought even if you don't plan it, you actually wish we could meet again, I thought that even if it's painful, as long as you could be in my side...'' He fell silent. `` Death. It's not your name that I feared, nor the being that you are, nor the inevitability of your arrival.'' `` I'll return you to your body. It might be a bit painful, but your condition has stabilized.'' `` Wait! Listen, it's not because of you that I can not answer your question.'' `` Death should have no business with those that still have the will to live. Death has no right to detain souls that destined to live on. Death should never...'' a tears dropped from my eyes as I embraced his being. `` It's not because I don't love you, that I can not remain in this world...'' `` Death should never let itself fall in love with beings it can not reach.'' a bright light blinded my eyes as I woke up in the hospital room. `` You're wrong.'' I whispered. `` It was I who never deserves to fall in love with you.'' tears flowed through my scarred face. In a realm neither of the Death nor the Living, a black-winged being floats in the emptiness. `` I should have never shown myself in front of you.'' it whispered, its black wings", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0245", "text": "`` Are you sure this is correct?'' asked Agent M as he placed the document on the table, his voice as lifeless as it had always been. Genuinely surprised, Rohan turned his gaze from his sandwich, to the document, then to Agent M. M's brown eyebrows clenching furiously that they seemingly meet in the center. In his heavy Indian accent, Rohan replied, `` Ahh, Michael! I didn't expect to see you here.'' `` Keep your volume down.'' `` Since you're already here, why don't you go enjoy the comic con, take a break?'' `` Look, you're the one who gave me this job, why?'' `` You remember Naimoli, right? His group recently lost half a million, M. Half of their annual profit! A couple of the other guys tracked down transaction, and apparently, your little miss innocent here is to blame. You may be a fan of Ceesharp, and she may have kept your hand clean of a few people, but she messed with the wrong people. Naimoli wasn't even gon na use that money to fund his little gang, he was saving it for retirement. This mission isn't a request, it's an order, now go! We're done here.'' Rohan, finished his sandwich, then began to walk towards the line for the costume contest. Agent M headed slowly towards the exit, still unsure about his assignment. Anita Devose, more commonly known as the hero Ceesharp, isn't a murderer, a rapist, or a thug. She is and a thief, but she never took a dime from her gains, they were donated to those less fortunate. Whenever she wasn't stealing money, ms. Ceesharp would be using her skills to expose the criminals in Virgo, a city infested with black market traders, murderers, rapists, and thieves. Agent M is a fan of her work. Even though she may not realize it, Ceesharp has spared countless lives from Agent M's hands. Borr the strong, Harry the psycho, and Katie the murderer, were amongst the many people arrested before Agent M was assigned to eliminate them. Agent M parked his car a block from the designated house. He made sure to bring along his trusty Mark 23, a hunting knife, a rope, and a few cyanide pills. The walk from the car to", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0246", "text": "“ Sadie! I told you not to stand under the tree in the middle of a thunderstorm! ” My mom frantically dialed 911, as I laid there, shocked. Literally. “ Hello?! My daughter was just struck- “ All of a sudden, something was wrong. I sat up, my fingertips crackling with this new power. Or was it the aftermath of the lighting? I couldn ’ t tell. Nor did I care. No. Something was definitely wrong, and it was nearby. “ If I take 295 south right now, I can get to Home Depot in ten minutes flat. And then I can finally build that deck you ’ ve wanted, they have the planks on sale. I can feel it in my blood. Now, I know, they ’ re plum colored and you did specifically say you wanted pine, but hear me out here. Plum is the pinest color out there, and you ’ d be a birch to say otherwise. ” My mom looked back at me, a hint of recognition in her eyes, but the rest of her face read as one emotion: terror. “ You know what else? I ’ m gon na get like, 50 windows from craigslist, they have the best deals, and make a greenhouse! ” Somehow, the words kept spilling out of my mouth. But something else was off here. Something with my house… Suddenly, I knew. I felt my blood boiling as I continued to be filled with rage. I jumped up the rest of the way, and dashed the two blocks to my house, where my brother ’ s laptop was. “ Not. Home. And his computer is plugged in. ENERGY WASTER! Doesn ’ t he care about this house?! He could ’ ve burned the whole place down! ”", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 368, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0247", "text": "door, he would enter through the back. After all, it was his house. He walked around the right side of the house, past gardens that were a little overdue for some weeding and maintenance. the figures inside were inaudible now, the silence was eerie. He briefly considered the wood splitter in the shed, but decided against it. No robbers would bring their family in for tea after all. He rounded the corner and walked up his back porch, the dining room would be visible if he continued along the porch, but the large glass sliding door was the only one on the porch. Entering his home, he looked to the right. There was a family of three sitting for dinner. At the head of the table was a beautiful woman with auburn hair and deep blue eyes, her two children, who couldn't have been over 10 sat opposite each other. They had failed to inherit their mothers hair, instead the first had her hair pulled back in a brown ponytail. the second child had not bothered with styling, leaving a scraggly mop of brown hair atop his head. `` Hello?'' he asked, none of this was making sense The woman turned and stared at him, mouth agape `` You can't be here'' she curtly said `` I don't think you understand ma'am, this is my house'' he replied confidently Taking him by the arm she led him outside `` It was your house, you live somewhere else now'' she muttered `` Was?'' he recanted `` Kevin, what day is it?'' she asked tenderly `` Tuesday, How do you know my name?'' he demanded She gazed deeply at him with the piercing blue eyes of someone who had known the greatest love the world could give. They were the eyes of someone who had that love rent and taken from them, broken to pieces and incinerated in hellfire. Tears dripped down her cheeks, she embraced him and whispered the most painful words he had heard in his life Shocked, he stared down at the band on his wrist. `` It was an accident, an 18 year old behind the wheel with a BAC of 0.15. He survived, but you had some major trauma to the cranium. The doctors did their best, but it was very severe. I'm sorry'' she croaked, it was all she could do. A white van pulled into the driveway.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 492, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0248", "text": "Bzzzzzzt. Bzzzzzzzzt. Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt. My alarm sounded. I reached for my phone but I hit air where I expect my computer to be. I open my eyes slowly, in front of me should be either a pillow, my iPad or the side of my desk, I see none of these things. I see a bedside table with an alarm clock, an old table lamp, and a cat. I reach out and stroke Max, who responds by climbing all over my face. The alarm is turned off. My door is open already. I ’ m in my parent ’ s house with my elderly cat who ’ s in a particularly young mood. “ First day back ” my mother says as she passed the door, going downstairs to get her coffee. I sat up in bed. Thoughts ran through my head. I ’ m at home? SHIT I ’ VE GOT WORK IN A HOUR. How the hell am I going to get travel 70 miles quickly? Train or bus. Why the hell did I come home. Wait, why am I home? I slid out of bed and reached for my phone. Nothing. I looked around my bedside table confused. I found a brick on the floor, charging. A Motorola Razr. Max left the room chasing a sound in the kitchen. “ What the fuck. ” I said probably too loudly. I picked up the phone. “ LANGUAGE! ” Came a shout from downstairs. I had been too loud. I flipped the phone open, and I saw it light up. I don ’ t know how long I sat there, but it was long enough for my mother to walk past, and say she was leaving 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0249", "text": "Samson stood up out of his car and stretched out as he shut the door behind him. It wasn't a long drive to get there, but with the sun's rays warming him in the brisk morning, he couldn't help but stretch and bask in it a little. This was the kind of morning Wanda would go out in a swimsuit and get some basking in herself if she were awake at this hour. Samson figured maybe if he hurried he could get back in time before she woke up, maybe suggest it was a good day for basking, 14 years of marriage and he was still excited to just glimpse her in a bathing suit. If the thoughts of seeing his wife didn't hurry Samson up to the front doors of the building, the putrid odor from the cigarettes the guards outside the doors were holding sure did. Samson, who was usually a very open minded man about people vices, glowered at the guards who for the most part ignored him as they seemed to be inhaling as much as they could through their sickly white straws. When he got through the doors though, he had a bit more empathy for the guards, he surely would have turned to something unpleasant to help him deal with this place. It wasn't a gross place, or even disorganized, in fact it was quite the opposite. Such a clean sterile, environment shouldn't have such a negative aura, but this place did. A man coughed to Samson's left, obviously to get his attention. “ Mr. Baker, the man inquired? ” Samson, took off his his beanie and turned to face the shorter and much plumper man before him. “ No 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 493, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0250", "text": "... right after addressing the rest of that bullshit. “ Don ’ t matter, man. Point is, if we have enemies, they gon na get it now. Shoot, maybe they ’ ll start with all the enemies at home first. ” I stop and look over to the left. Denise and her pretty, flowery white dress is over starring at the moon with that asshole Jack. Old Viveca has had too much of all the commotion and is, I can only imagine, walking back to her house. I begin to remember something. “ Didn ’ t Randy ’ s grandpa go to the moon once? Long time ago? ” “ Sure did, proudest thing that has come out of this town. ” “ Shouldn ’ t we talk to him? See if he knows something? ” “ Don ’ t see why not. ” So Paul and I leave the commotion… my mind deciding whether I want to think about Wendy or Denise tonight when I get home. We turn to walk through Randy ’ s dirt driveway leading to his farm, and I knock on his door. Randy ’ s face peaks out…. I can tell he ’ s visibly shaken. “ Randy, ” I said. “ You saw the moon didn ’ t you? ” “ What do you think? Whole fuckin ’ town ’ s seen it, Vince. ” “ Well, we figured your grandpa went to the moon once… figured you might know a little bit more about it than us? ” “ My bet ’ s Aliens… or government weapons. ” Paul says. “ My grandpa and his team went to burry something in the moon… never said what… but all he said was it ’ s bad… like real bad… like deep shit bad. ” “ Tell us all you know, Randy. ” I say. “ We ’ re interested. ” “ Won ’ t do much good… all I can say is, the entire world is in some deep shit. ” Randy opens to the door more, we step in and talk for a few hours….. turns out… maybe everybody ’ s time on earth is about to get real shorter…", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 437, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0251", "text": "I had poached eggs, the day the world ended. Now all I have is a blanket and vine-wrapped broken highway in front of me that seems to go on forever. ( the highway, not the blanket. ) But it started with poached eggs and a figure in a lab coat. It walked into my kitchen, stopped right by Amy's side, looking right at me. `` Thank you for your time, Mr. Taylor.'' I dropped the fork on the table. Amy was frowning too, and so was Zara ( that's our daughter ). `` What? Who are you? What is –'' `` Please bear in mind that it might take a while, but everything will make sense once the haze of The Box goes away. Thank you very much.'' And I'll never forget the poached eggs. I'll never forget because that's when I got up and dropped them and the plate crashed, and my eyes stopped on Zara's, and she was so scared. It was one second -- one second when time stood still, even the crashing sound seemed to linger -- and before I could say or do anything, the world went black. & nbsp; And then I opened my eyes to the broken world. And no memories. I know nothing of what happened to Amy or Zara. No idea how I got here. It went from the crashing and the eggs and Zara to silence, and then an open blue sky. Chirping. Leaves rattling and a cold wind, my back against the dirt. I raised my head and looked around. Trees. An open field. And the distant silhouette of a skeleton city. I don't know what happened to the world. You know what I *do* know, though? I know I've been wandering around for three months, and I've yet to see another human face. I know I've killed a coyote with my bare hands last week, right next to a rotten building that used to be the Griffith Observatory. I know I went past Hollywood Boulevard a couple of days ago, and the Chinese Theater is now a wolf lair, so don't go there. From that plate crashing spilling poached eggs to the blue, cloudless sky and my back against the dirt, I went from a married man with an apartment in Santa Monica to a cave man. To the last man in the world. I have no idea what's going on. But I'm finding Amy.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0252", "text": "ash 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 FOND OF THAT MOVIE. I'M MORE A *LITTLE MERMAID* ENTITY MYSELF, AND I'LL REVISIT *MULAN* FROM TIME TO TIME -- BUT I DIGRESS! THE POINT REMAINS THAT THOU MUST MAKETH A WISH! NOW, SPEAK!'' Debbo thought for a moment. What would be the best use of this wish? Eliminating the gender pay gap? No, as much as she bitched about it, she was well aware that when adjusted for relevant differences, the gap all but disappears. Plus, she liked bitching too much about it. That's it! She'll wish for everyone on Earth to have something to bitch about. With a malignant grin spreading like a sin across her face, she stared off into forever and said those damning words: `` I wish everything... was CUBIST.'' And with that, the hot porn that David Poke had been stroking it to suddenly went `` Nude Descending A Stair Case''. Shocked, David rose only to find that his dick looked like a kaleidoscope puked on it. There were screams of terror outside his blob. Rushing over, he noticed that odd things were rushing about outside, shifting horribly through some god-awful medium, like koi through a raging pond. Poke went to turn on the tele... something... and heard nothing but sobs from reporters not understanding what happened to their perfectly coiffed hair. There were people arguing over whether something was a leg or not. An oddly curved... triangle thing, I guess would be the best description, was beating the every loving... something....out of another thing. Really, it's all hard to explain, but", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0253", "text": "I sat down and let the chair absorb my full weight, a feeling I knew meant I was out for the count, and took out a cigarette. The air felt nice, though. Why did I have to mix whiskey and... `` Alex?'' The person sitting across called my name, unsure if she got it right. I smiled in assurance that she did. She sort of looks like Jessica in this light. `` Are you feeling okay?'' I asked. I saw that drink change his demeanor from jumpy to ready for bed. The party just started, there were still people coming. `` Yeah, thanks, I'll be okay in a minute,'' he laughed. He's cute. `` Hey,'' I nudged my friend, `` think she's taken?'' and jerked my eyes to the direction of the girl that was talking just talking. Joey turned his neck to me, then to her, then back to his cigarette. `` Who cares man, not like she'll care if you talk to her.'' `` You got a point.'' `` Joey, you got a lighter?'' I patted my pockets looking for my missing lighter. `` I have it, my bad.'' I went over to light Alex's cigarette and handed it back to Joey. `` It's chilly.'' I let out a pop and the permeating smell brought Andy and his friend over to the table. Do n't do it Alex. Do n't take a hit. You're already fucked up, look I'm giving myself directions. Just pass it along, there you go. I looked into the house from the balcony and saw some new people coming in. `` Fuck.'' I opened the front door and to my happy surprise I saw Rachel. `` Jessica!!'' I gave her a big hug, and in a hushed tone she let me know Alex was here. I looked around and saw him looking my way. -- - Eh it was fun writing", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 390, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0254", "text": "less fortunate. Whenever she wasn't stealing money, ms. Ceesharp would be using her skills to expose the criminals in Virgo, a city infested with black market traders, murderers, rapists, and thieves. Agent M is a fan of her work. Even though she may not realize it, Ceesharp has spared countless lives from Agent M's hands. Borr the strong, Harry the psycho, and Katie the murderer, were amongst the many people arrested before Agent M was assigned to eliminate them. Agent M parked his car a block from the designated house. He made sure to bring along his trusty Mark 23, a hunting knife, a rope, and a few cyanide pills. The walk from the car to the house passed by quickly for Agent M. He felt a rush of adrenaline, causing his hands to shake. He used the imitation key Rohan has provided, and silently opened the door. The lights were off, no appliances turned on, dishes from the previous night still rested on the sink. He quietly made his way upstairs, and opened the doors one by one. On the master bedroom, Agent M found Ceesharp soundly sleeping. She looked younger than her reported age of forty, she had dark skin, puffy black hair, quite beautiful according to Agent M. Because he had no intention to kill her, Agent M started to look around for around for clues for the stolen money. After about ten minutes of carefully rummaging through shelves, closets, and cabinets, Agent M turned his gaze towards the laptop. He powered it on and was surprised to find that it had no password. He went through Ceesharp's highly organized note and found the information he needed. The money was sent to Jack, CEO of Virgo's most popular construction company. Ceesharp planned to use the money towards building the city's first homeless shelter and orphanage. “ Maybe if I get the money from Jack, I won't have to kill her, ” Agent M thought to himself. Before he could turn off the laptop, he heard a scream. Ceesharp quickly ran towards her secret closet and acquired a pistol. She cocked the pistol, pointed the weapon at Agent M, and shot. Agent M laid on the floor, trying to contain the blood from his neck. “ I know you're here to get the money back!, ” Yelled Ceesharp. “ HAH! Naimoli is going to have", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0255", "text": "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, balled his fists. He pointed a finger in the direction of his weapons room, addressing his servant but without bothering to make eye contact. “ Fetch me my trident. I remind the humans the true meaning of the Olympic Games. ” /// In Tokyo, Trisha readied herself at the edge of the pool. She knew she stood out like a sore thumb from the actual competitors, with their well-built, youthful bodies. But she didn ’ t feel embarrassed; she was doing this for her husband and two daughters, who were watching the broadcast back home in Newark. The Olympics was a family tradition, as the Greenes were an athletic family. After all, when Trisha had demonstrated her strokes in front of the Olympic Committee, they praised her solid technique, feeling that she would be the perfect example of the “ average swimmer ” to juxtapose against the elite athletes. “ On your marks— ” The referee raised his gun. Trisha braced herself; the roaring of the crowd dimmed in her ears. BANG! At the sound of the gunshot, all twelve competitors leapt into the water. Trisha focused on putting one arm in front of another, breathing bilaterally, but already from the corner of her goggles she could see the others overtaking her with torpedolike speed. There was no time for regret. Her mind went to that wonderful blank place, when the body becomes machinic in its execution of rehearsed movements. Up, under, breathe— “ In the lead we have… ” The curly-haired news anchor paused mid-sentence, squinting at the water from her position several meters from the side of the pool. As her jaw dropped in astonishment, her cameraman nearly", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0256", "text": "It was supposed to be a routine mission. Nothing we hadn't seen before. Just another cleanup round trip through the washing machine and the dryer. We'd done this a hundred times. But I guess even if you've been on the force for years they still can surprise you. The trip through the washer went without any trouble. Lev was showing off his newly patched heel during the ride. Red wool. Apparently that's the fashion nowadays. Said I should get my own looked at. Don't see a reason to. Yea, my heel is getting sheer, but it's still holding up. I don't trust those shrinks and tailors. Don't like needles. Lev just grins. I always get the shivers when we enter the dryer. Call it childhood trauma, but we all got our baggage. I got used to it, but this time something is different. We are getting pushed too far off to the side. “ Lev, I don't like this place. Smells awful lot like a trap to me ”, I mumble and pull up my cuff. “ You worry too much, Rick. Come on, partner, what could possibly go wrong? ” Lev leans back and pokes the polished metal wall of the dryer. “ They build these things to be safe. The other day I read that you are more likely to get burnt by lightning than to disappear in a dryer. ” He doesn't convince me. I pull a bundle of fluff from my pocket and start chewing on it. Old habits die hard. Then we start spinning. I try not to think about it. I need to distract myself. “ So how's your patched heel holding up? ”, I ask. No answer. “ Lev? ” I turn to look at him, but his space is empty. “ LEV! ” Hectically, I scan the area. My world is spinning. Literally. Suddenly I spot something. A thin thread of red, caught in a gap of the drum. I give it a closer look. It's good quality wool, and the same color as Lev's new fucking patch. “ Shit. ” I look down into the gap. Darkness. “ Lev? Are you down there? ” The thread twitches. Without further thought, I jump into the darkness. When I come back to my senses, every single one of my threads hurt. I think some of them might be ruptured", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0257", "text": "The thing jabbed me roughly in the arm. This had to be a dream. `` What's wrong with you, why are YOU here?'' I looked around, confused. There was nothing, no trees, no clouds, it was a gray landscape and a gray sky. The only things on this plane, were myself and this weird robot that seemed to be made of bones and dripping blood. I would have been concerned about it bleeding to death but none of its parts were connected and all just seemed for show, piloted like some creepy graveyard puppet. Yep definitely a dream. `` Answer me dammit I don't have time for this.'' It poked me again, harder this time and I recoiled from its skeletal probe. `` OW! And I have no idea friend. I don't even have a clue where I am right now.'' The thing looked around. seemingly in disbelief, it was hard to read the pits that functioned as the eyes for the creepy little machine. `` It's hell you moron. Are you dim? Is that why you are here for repair?'' `` Re-repair?'' This was new. Since when was hell a shop for dysfunctional souls....wait, since when was I a dysfunctional soul?! `` UH yes. That's my job, to repair souls, and then send them back. Then rinse and repeat until they stop coming back. Any questions now?'' Wow, hell's minions were sassy. `` So, then what's wrong with me?'' The little bone bag squealed in frustration and what it had for appendages twitched violently. `` I DO N'T KNOW! THAT'S THE PROBLEM!'' It started to whir in circles in its tiny wheels made of what looked like little sternums. `` Usually I can figure out the issue and have a soul sent back before it wakes up. I SPENT HOURS DISSECTING YOU AND I CA N'T FIND THE PROBLEM!'' The child size machine was screaming at me now, the small protrusions now spurting blood. `` WHOA WHOA! YOU DISSECTED ME?!'' My hands were searching my body for wounds and found none. `` Uh yes, how else would i FIX you, idiot. That must be the issue, let me see your head again, I must have missed something.'' It reached its creepy little feelers towards me and I swatted them away. `` No, no more dissect", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0258", "text": "The Great Book had been his masterpiece. Best-seller, all the interdimensional literary awards, a 5D movie, countless immitators leading to an entire genre... that was almost 2000 years ago. After he'd published it, he retired and let the royalties roll in. They kept coming, and still didn't show any sign of slowing down. Some thought he was just waiting for the right moment to write the rumored sequel `` The Second Coming'', but in truth he was a bit of a prankster and got a kick out of leaving sequel hooks he would never use for the fans to obsess over. Now he was having second thoughts. He'd complained on the extranet about the decline of individual-produced literature in favor of using convenient, corporate platforms like DejaVuTube and expressing opinions over Chatter ( # GreyLivesMatter, etc. ) where they are quickly forgotten. The overwhelming response? He was a has-been. He knew nothing about the way things worked now, just another crotchety old so-and-so. In sadness, he looked through the old files containing the draft copies of The Great Book. He briefly considered releasing an actual sequel, then decided it would be better to start fresh and hit'Ctrl+A'. That was when he noticed something odd. At the bottom of the list was a text file that he hadn't written. He opened the file, to find a message in typical literary format, using the English language he'd created for The Great Book but had never ended up using. *'' Hello? God? Can you hear me?'' Langston spoke into the machine. * The writer blinked, and tried something on a whim. He quickly typed out a 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0259", "text": "wasted or just learned the language... we're going to be keeping an eye on him. Day 8: We broke into a locked supply closet on the 4th floor and found a couple cases of water and granola bars mixed in with office supplies, so we've bought ourselves a little bit more time. Once again, Jason has given me more reasons to be suspicious of his motives. We all decided to check each floor for supplies since our situation was getting dire and we needed food and water. I took the 2nd, Tommy took the 3rd, and Jason was given the 4th. After searching to no avail me and Tommy met back up on the main floor and doubled over each of our floors to make sure we didn't miss anything. Jason then met us soon after on the 2nd floor and said he didn't find anything either. `` okay'' i replied, `` we're double checking each of the floors just to make sure we didn't miss anything. help us clear this one and the 3rd then we'll go up to the 4th and check that one again as well.'' Jason then seemed very reluctant to the idea and even accused me of not trusting him. That's okay, were all hungry and on edge. I calm but firmly tell him that our only motives are to find some supplies to help us last a little while longer until we can find some better placement other than this ( office that i love being in so much. ) So, as a team, we make it to the 4th floor and conduct our search. not 10 minutes in we come across a locked door that almost looked like someone was trying to hide it. strange, i thought. 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0260", "text": "`` Get us a pint of Stella.'' he said. The other years turned their attentions to their thumbs as the barman stopped serving them to deal with the newcomer. It was, after all, his turn. He was 2014. `` Oh, and get us another for my friend...'' `` His friend?'' thought the other years. 1956 even went so far as to exude a rapid'Hmm?' before remembering his place some fifty-eight years down the chain of command and returning to the pile of salt he was nudging around the table with his thumb. He was quickly scolded. `` Quiet down, old timer! You had your go.'' said the barman with a reverent glance in 2014's direction to see that he hadn't overstepped his mark either. 2014 ignored them all turning instead to the other end of the room. `` Pull up a seat, kid.'' he said with a nod, and at this a round-faced, large-eyed young man lifted himself from a corner table and unceremoniously hopped himself onto the seat next to 2014. There could be no mistaking that this was the new guy, 2015. In appearance, there was little to distinguish the adjoining years but you would never confuse the two together. In what differences were evident could be seen 2015's inexperienced and untested nature. `` I got ta tell ya this.'' began 2014. `` You see, kid, when a year reaches his twelfth month he begins to notice a thing or two about the way the world works. Now this ain't something the other years can tell ya. It's different now, you know it is. Even 2013 don't know shit about what's going on because we're the present and he's the past. No, you're the future. I'm the present, you're the future and they're the past, you see?'' As he went on he got more agitated and his gestures grew larger and larger with a great swing of his arm in the direction of the other drinkers on the word'they're'. 2015 could see. How could he not? 2014's glass was by now half empty and by no means his first. He was drunk and so was his junior. `` Bad shit's gon na happen, my friend, and it's gon na happen soon. You got ta live with that", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0261", "text": "celebrating a local custom called the day of the dead, where they honor their close friends and relatives who have died! They were selling these at the market! ” “ Y-yeah, it's very cool! ” I said shyly. “ Tea? ” she asked. “ Oh.. erm.. Yes please! ” They both didn't say anything more to me while I explored the room. Despite all this ruggednes, I was starting to feel a cozy sense of home in this place! Now, I should point out that I don't actually know these people. I've never met them before today, and I don't even recall how I became acquainted with them, or why I was invited to their place. The whole thing seemed a little surreal and the thought that it might be a dream had just occured to me! But dreams are illogical, they don't follow a coherent story; they tend to change and morph and jump around. This whole sequence of events, was strange indeed, but it was still a logical, linear story. Besides, you can control what people say in your dreams, and I couldn't control what they said to me or to each other. Every now and then they would talk to each other in another language, and I couldn't influence when they spoke or what they said, with my mind. I couldn't influence anything that happened at all, and that's why I concluded that it couldn't possibly be a dream. ( Either that, or I'm just a really crappy lucid dreamer! ) I turned away from the shelves and found what should have been the elephant in the room all this time. In the middle of the room, taking center stage even over the dining room table, was an old Victorian style, child's bed. It was steel framed, with the freshly made with the duvet covered in intricate patterns of flowers and fairies and other girly things! I had noticed it before, but now it had my undivided attention! Why was there a bed in the middle of the room? And where was the child? “ Who's bed is this? ” I asked. The young woman turned from the kettle and walked over. “ Oh, that's the bed of our late daughter... ” “ Oh my God I'm so sorry! ” I interjected. “ That must be terrible! ” “ We keep it here in her memory. ” She smiled and turned to carry", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0262", "text": "`` Your worthless'' mom said It did n't affect me because I knew what she was trying to do. I refused to give in to them. A lot of my school classmates had killed themselves, but I refused to give into this backwards world. My mom and dad would emotionally and physically abuse me, and they still expected me to give the remainder of my years to them. No way. I had decided that I would put up with their shit until I was 18 and then move. Most parents would n't go about it in the sly way other parents would, my dad left his gun out in the open hoping that one day I would pick it up, put it to my head, and blow my brains out. I would n't. My dad came in the door. `` Hi son'' he said `` Hi dad'' I said `` How was school?'' He asked `` Fine'' I said. I know he wanted me to talk about all the bad things that happend. He would nit pick everything just to make me feel bad, so I would n't give him any ammo. `` How did you do on the math test?'' He asked `` I failed, because you wo n't help me study'' You'll never become something in life if you keep getting grades like that'' he said in a mocking tone. `` Okay'' I said. And thats when the anger consumed me. I picked up my fathers glock off the table, but instead of pointing it at myself I pointed it right at my fathers head and pulled the trigger. BANG! His body hit the floor. My mom screamed. I then turned the gun to her. I pulled the tigger. BANG!. I had murderd my parents. I had zero remorse. They had turned me into a cold blooded killer.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 368, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0263", "text": "The news stations shut down the day they came. All of them. All at once. Then all the television stations blipped out of existence. Then the internet. The electricity was the last to go. It was like they were sending us back in time. I guess they didn ’ t want us to communicate with each other, like they didn ’ t want us to know what was going on. They wanted us in the dark, alone. Some people started fleeing at the first sight of the ships. They packed up their belongings, grabbed their kids and started running down the street, or getting into their cars and pushing through the mounds of traffic that lined every city corner. Where they were going I don ’ t know. Maybe a police station, or an army base. Some place they felt safe. Other people looted the vacant shops and houses, breaking windows, fighting over cans of string beans and loaves of bread. Playing tug a war with their lives over canned vegetables. People got shot, beat up, left to die out in the debris-filled streets or on the sidewalks. All the while the ships watched over us from above. Then one day, as I awoke from a fitful night in my small apartment, I suddenly had a strong urge to peek through the splintered boards of my living room window, into the outside world to gaze up at the ships that I had stared at many times before. But they weren't there. They were just... gone. The sky was clear, the sun shone down into my eyes. Everything was still: peaceful almost. I grabbed the axe that had laid beside me on my nightstand for a month now and began to hack away the wooden boards that covered my front door. I heard nothing but my heart in my ears. Once the boards gave way, I cautiously opened the door and stepped out into the light. I squinted in the sudden onslaught of blue sky, dots sparkling over my vision. Where were the ships? Where had they gone? I could see a few other people peeking out of their fortresses. Curtains were moved aside; doors were unlocked and people stepped out onto their front steps just like I had done. The silence grew. It was almost more unwelcome then the ships themselves. Then I heard it, a slow drum like beat. It didn ’ t seem to be coming from the day outside, but more from inside me. I could tell others felt it too, their", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0264", "text": "I clutched the notebook in my hand, staring at my handwritten warning: “ March 10, 2016, 6:58 p.m.- The Flower Incident. ” I checked my surroundings, and casually slipped my way into the bushes in front of Olivia ’ s building. I had already messed this particular date up long ago. It was time to right an old wrong. Of all my attempts to court Olivia, the flower incident had definitely been the worst. How was I supposed to know that she was allergic? Is there *any* appropriate reaction to anaphylactic shock on a first date? I shook myself out of my reverie when I heard footsteps approaching. Sorry, let me back up. Or is it forward? I ’ ve been pretty confused about how to use verb tense ever since this all started back in ( will start in? Ugh. ) June 2017. There I was, minding my own business, just another young professional in a suit and tie on my way home from work. I was passing by an alleyway right next to my favorite kabob stand, when suddenly an eerily familiar voice hissed my name out of the shadows. I jumped in shock as my head whipped toward the source of the sound. There, halfway crouched behind an overflowing dumpster, was a figure in a dark trench coat, large sunglasses that covered most of his face, and a hat that would have actually been quite stylish if the man didn ’ t already look like he had walked straight out of a bad spy flick. I like to think I ’ m the adventurous sort, but in that moment my sense of practicality stepped in and I turned my head back forward and my feet started moving again in the direction I was going. The stranger yelled as I walked away. “ Wait! ” he cried. I had definitely heard that voice somewhere, but I couldn ’ t quite put my finger on it. My head turned once more towards him, and he took off the glasses and hat. My jaw dropped. The stranger was… me. The lines in his ( my? ) put him ( me? ) at several years older than me, but the shape of his face, his eyes, the color of his hair, and his expression was exactly what I ’ ve seen in the mirror my whole life. I started, and blurted out “ What kind of sick joke is- “ the man suddenly jumped from the shadows, cut me off", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0265", "text": "My mind wanders from fantasy to fantasy as my hand moves, back and forth, almost on autopilot. I had been doing this for what seemed like years, even decades now. I had been drifting in a sea of ink and paint since time immemorial. My childhood, by this point, is simply another image inked on fragile papyrus, in a storm of smooth strokes and jagged lines. I had wanted to be like Picasso once. I wanted to pour meaning into those exquisite lines that defined my life. Every blank page had once been a canvas, every wall and every road and street a mirror for my heart. I would look around me and see possibility, adventure, romance. A line here, a stroke there, a splash of color in between, and I would begin imagining the many possibilities of every space in the form of a mural. I had all but set my heart on being an artist. Then came high school, and my heat had found a new love. Those same lines I would see in streets, along the walls of building, flowing and shifting into grand paintings, presented themselves again. I found them now in the straight edges and sleek curves of machinery, the precision of cold grey steel, and the infinite realm of possibilities that was engineering. I pursued this through high school, college, made a career out of it. This was more than a simple trade for me – this was life, this was art. I was happy, happier than I could have even dreamed of being. Had my trade been a woman, I would have married her in a heartbeat, all those years ago. Two years ago, elections were held, a new leader brought in. He said he would make our every hope and dream come true. We had no idea he meant it literally. I was on my way to work, when I found myself tackled to the ground, a bag put over my head, and my limp body tossed into a large van. A long hour later, I found myself tied to a chair, and a machine strapped to my head, and left confused and dazed. I heard a soft purr from the machine, and I wondered how it was doing that. Shock came over me, as I slowly realized what was happening. I was being forced to unlearn everything I had learned since high school. I struggled and cried, screaming as my heart was torn out of me and emptied. The machine switched gears, and I slowly felt my head being", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0266", "text": "**October 7, 2046** They rode in silence. The crew compartment was stuffy, cramped. Slim tendrils of blue smoke snaked from the captain ’ s cigar, dancing in the red running light. John sat with his back to the hull, listening to the dull roar of the hoverjets, the mechanical chorus of readied weapons, the whispered prayers. This was the third year of the operation, the largest ground war in living memory. Before they shipped out the CO had praised their bravery, their courage, their strength. They were rebuilding America, one city block at a time. They would be remembered as heroes. * “ Thirty seconds! ” * The call came through his headset. Within the claustrophobic confines of his helmet John watched his heads-up display flare to life; suit vitals, overhead map, bullet-pointed objectives. He looked around at the up-armored soldiers around him, watched as they went through their pre-battle rituals. He tried to guess who they were beneath the dull, emotionless visors. The captain rose, cradling her helmet under one arm, the other bracing against the hull. “ Alright, listen up, ” she shouted over the bubbling commotion, “ our target is an insurrectionist strong hold out past Old Seattle. Reports indicate a large stockpile of weapons and ammunition has been moved underground, into the subway tunnels. They ’ ve been peppering our boys for weeks, and we ’ re gon na stop em. So check your weapons, keep your heads down, and don ’ t get killed. ” John could see the exhaustion in her eyes, the haunted thousand-yard stare so common among the veterans. The captain surveyed the soldiers, nodded, and slipped on her helmet. With a wave of her hand the thirty men and women rose. The light shifted green, the transport landed with a spine-jarring impact, and the rear hatch hissed open. Into chaos. *** His head pounded, he could taste blood. John came to with a start, fighting for breath. His vision was dark. For a heartbeat he feared he was blind, until a small, red warning icon flashed before his eyes. John reached up, undid the clasps around his neck, and tossed his dented helmet aside. He was on his back, staring up at a smoke-clouded sky. He could hear the staccato retorts of small arms fire echoing across the city, the tortured screams", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0267", "text": "rodite's little trick. No mattwr how much they tried to stay away from each other, Karen would unconsciously end up needing him, making him appear right before her. This continued to happen even after they had their own partners. However, Michael, who has been with Karen for almost 1 year, could not take it anymore when Ryder had arrived at the hospital before him during ing Karen's accident a month back. It was not that critical, but to see another guy holding your unconscious girlfriend's hand was just the last straw for Michael. 2 weeks later he broke it off. Ryder closes his eyes as he felt his body being transported once more. Hearing the quiet sobs made his heart wrenched. He opened his eyes to see Karen with her head down, knees hugged tightly against herself. He kneeled down beside the bathtub, and places a comforting hand to Karen's head. `` you missed a spot,'' he whispered. Her head came up, eyes brimming with unshed tears as she looked at him, `` I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.'' Ryder gave a small smile as he moved his hand to her cheek, wiping any visible tear stain, `` I broke up with Lana.'' Karen fel her breath stop as she tried to grasp his meaning. Ryder continued to smile softly, `` Lana, Jenny, Rachael..or whoever comes before and after... no one can be compared with you, Karen. There's just something about them, that you have and they don't. `` `` and what is that?'' Karen asked quietly, as fresh tears started to fall. `` My heart,'' he whispered as he leaned in for her lips.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 338, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0268", "text": "Defense attorney: `` The defense calls Mr. Michael Scott to the stand.'' Hundreds of cameras flash and chatter as Michael approaches the stand with a nervous sweat. Judge: `` Mr. Scott do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you god?'' Michael: `` I, Michael Scott, swear to tell any truth that I have, any- any truth there is. That is my testimony, your highness.'' J: `` Please take your seat Mr. Scott. Defense, you have your witness.'' DA: `` Mr. Scott. Do you recognize the man sitting over there?'' MS: `` Yes, your worship.'' DA:'' You can just call me Mr. Baker, Mr. Scott. That's fine. That man over there, what is his name and how do you know him?'' MS: `` The gentlemen to my right, seated in the forward'' searches `` -position. Is named Ryan Howard. I am his best friend'' RH: `` You're not my best friend Michael'' MS: `` We are... good friends, we are more than friends.'' DA: `` I'm sorry Mr Scott, are you implying you and Mr. Howard are romantically involved.'' RH: `` No! He doesn't know what hes saying'' MS: `` Ryan is not my lover. But if I were gay, I wouldn't say no. But I'm not gay, I have a wife, who is smoking hot, shes right over there!'' Holly: `` Michael please.'' DA: `` Mr. Scott, where were you on the night of Oct 16th, 2014?'' MS: `` I was in bed. Watching 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0269", "text": ". She hugged me so tight I thought she would never let go. My father was a different story. `` You'll be back kiddo.'' He smiled. `` I've never been so proud of you.'' After a quick embrace between the two of us, and a couple more group hugs with both of them I headed back to my apartment one last time. I was ready. The launch went smoothly thanks to the new design of rockets the corporation used. Before I knew it I was passing through the atmosphere saying goodbye to the only home I had known for twenty-one years. Once we had escaped the clutches of earth's gravity I leapt out of my seat, and experienced true weightlessness for the first time in my life. I giggled somewhat uncontrollably for a minute at the giddiness I felt. I propelled myself over to a window for one last glimpse of home. *I'll be back soon. * `` Engaging rotation function of ship arms. Artificial gravity will soon commence.'' Charon chimed. I set the timer on the side of the chamber and climbed in. `` Charon, if the timer fails to go off wake me in exactly six and a half earth years from this point.'' I said. `` I will set my own timer right now and wake you as requested.'' It replied in its familiar female voice. The door on the chamber closed and sleep overtook me. Voices and lights danced around me. Waves crashed on the beaches of forgotten islands. The music of a thousand cultures intertwined into one melody. Strange patterns and colors formed sacred geometric shapes. Odd figures with faces that were familiar, but thousands of years old, watched me. Dreams stretched into eons, eons into eternities, and eventually it's as if time stood still. And then I awoke. The door opened on the chamber, and I crawled out, nauseated from the journey. The lights on the ship slowly flickered to life as I gathered myself on the cold metal floor. After the dizziness passed I made my way to the cockpit. `` It's good to see you Parker.'' hummed Charon's voice `` Though you are a couple of days earlier than I expected. It's fascinating that you are so resilient, most humans have extreme difficulty moving after staying in the deep sleep chamber for a couple of days. Much less getting up after spending six and a half years in one.'' `` They trained me well.'' I gruffly replied. ``", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0270", "text": "`` Brigands and cutpurses have nothing on me. They're petty, cheap thugs who burgle for petty, cheap coin. Wine and women must come easily to such people.'' The stranger looks unimpressed. I continue my spiel. `` I'm more refined. Better than a common thief. Smarter than the lot of them put together, too.'' Her distaste shows on her lips, as they curl up in disgust. She speaks for the second time. `` And I'm sure you spend your hard earned coin on nothing but the noblest of pursuits, too. Nothing but charities and your future, I'm certain.'' Her words hardly leave a mark in my indignant reply. `` What, then, did you want from our town? You requested a companion for some brute force crusade type deal, and you're surprised the clientele is all of the lowborn variety? Get a grip, paladin.'' Her hand shifts to the hilt of her scabbard, running gloved fingers over the symbol inscribed there. She lifts her eyes to the heavens. `` Bloody divines never gave us nothing. And here you are, shiny armor and shiny sword, trying to muster us up? For what, then? Why do you even need one of us fine gentlemen?'' She declined to respond, her view of the overcast sky must have given her all the direction she needed. Without another word, she spun on her heels, the soft clangs of her armor trailing behind her as she smartly walked away. I turn back to my compatriots, who had been listening intently to our exchange. `` We'll rob her tonight.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 336, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0271", "text": "I stepped out of the shuttle pod and onto the smooth metal of the landing pad near the top of our apartment complex. My hover suitcase followed me faithfully, floating from the vehicle's rear boot before the lid closed automatically behind it. With a loud hum from its antigravity turbines, the hovercar took off, shooting off down into the city centre. I walked across the wide landing pad, which jutted out like a chromed lily pad from the side of the elegantly curved building. My cloak rippled slightly in the breeze as the double doors slid open silently ahead of me. The thick blue carpet felt soft beneath my booted feet, and I stood there for a moment, just breathing in the familiar faint scent of vanilla that wafted up from the freshly cleaned floor. I smiled to myself as I strolled across to the elevator, which was already waiting with its doors open, and selected my floor. A few seconds later, I was stepping out into a different corridor and walking down the hall to our apartment. I placed my palm upon the lock, which winked green and beeped. The door slid back to reveal the spacious room beyond. I stepped through, the suitcase coming to a stop beside me and gently lowering itself to the floor. 'I'm back!' I called, shrugging off my cloak and throwing it over a nearby table. There was no reply. 'Rebecca?' I said, walking towards the short passage that led to the bedroom my girlfriend and I shared. I thought I had heard whispering a moment before, but now I could pick up no sounds coming from behind the door. I crept up to the door, pushed it open and peered inside. My eyebrows rose in surprise. On the wide, low bed lay my girlfriend Rebecca, with my other friend Kelly sitting with her back against the headboard on the adjacent pillow. Some sort of device lay on the covers in the centre of the bed, a sort of capsule or something. It was spherical, with tiny golden lights winking on and off inside like a swarm of trapped fireflies. 'Hey,' said Rebecca, smiling dreamily.'You're back early.' 'What the hell are you doing?' I said, coming to the foot of the bed and looking at the capsule more closely. Kelly and Rebecca exchanged glances.'You tell him,' said Kelly, hugging her knees. 'Okay,' said Rebecca, looking back at me.'Luke, have you", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0272", "text": "`` You're aware of how this works, right?'' the priestess said as she brewed the potion. `` You drink and enter a deep sleep. Only a few seconds... Or a few days. The stronger the power, the longer you sleep.'' The young man wore only simple robes and badly worn sandals while she wore an elegant gown. With the silver chalice she brought over to him, inside held the potion. It both shined brightly while it was pitch black, was both light and heavy and filled the room with hope and dread. `` Drink,'' she said as she handed him the chalice. It didn't just enter like any other liquid. It slipped in like a slime, refusing to part no matter how much his jaw or tongue fought against it. He could feel it slide down into his stomach throughout. It had literally no taste, no feeling but it just slid further. He could somehow... Sense it. Only when it had reached his stomach did he feel anything else as he began to fall over. He could feel the sheer scope of his powers, how small and large they were. He knew just how small and fine the world was, how it all worked. Atoms... Small packets of energy that everything was made up from. However, there were smaller things than that. Protons, neutrons and electrons, how they interacted with the world... But his power was over quarks, smaller then. He could change and control those smaller objects. And light... He could control, make and destroy it. No... You can't create or destroy, only change... But that no longer applied to him. He now had sovereign control over the very concepts of life and death and could create and destroy to his will. Then he saw the sheer scope. He could easily see the entire world... Several worlds, all spinning around the sun which he now saw for what it truly was, a large flame in the void. Soon, he could preceive hundreds, then thousands, then millions of stars spinning together into a sinlgle vortex... Before he saw millions of galaxies, all floating within a blackened void before he could only perceive them as he did the quarks... Before expanding itself millions upon millions of times... And he could see and control the small on the same scale as he did the large. He could see the very definition of existence itself. He knew, he saw, he could, he would, he should - create, destroy", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0273", "text": "gun as Jaxson got the Hawkari in the sights. The Hawkari noticed the harpoon at the last second and shot off a quick lightning spell to stop it. It missed and hit my basket. The harpoon struck through the Hawkari's chest, pinning one of its wings back. It instantly dropped out of the sky, spiraling until Jaxson could no longer see it clearly. He would need to get a new harpoon now but at least he didn't die today. The beating of wings growing closer, snapped him back to the moment. He just realized the dragon was flapping its wings outside of the basket. Jaxson peeks over the edge of the basket, into the bright blue eyes of a baby dragon. The dragon was green, he knew this was a earth dragon but all dragons had the ability to fly. They stared at each other for a minute as Jaxson slowly pulled off a chunk of bread and threw it to the dragon. The dragon dove into the basket before Jaxson could do anything. Not that there was much he could do to stop something as large as a wolf. Luckily, he was only a baby. It snuggled up against Jaxson and he slowly lowered his hand, and began stroking the babies head. He went to pat his stomach but the dragon snapped up and barred his teeth. `` Hold on, Hold on. Its okay I didn't mean to hurt you.'' Jaxson said as he raised his hands up in defense. The dragon put its head back into Jaxson's lap. Jaxson caught sight of a gash in the side of the dragon just below his right wing. He slowly lifted the wing up, noticing the gash was more than he could mend himself. Jaxson made the decision to bring the dragon to the Wizard to see if he could help the young dragon. He could drop off the cloud he picked up while he was at it. `` Well little dragon. Lets see if we can get you all fixed up.'' Jaxson looked at the horizon and the ground as they started their descent.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 431, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0274", "text": "I remember vividly the day that it happened. I was driving through a nasty storm in a dense forest, when suddenly a bright light flashed through my windscreen! I was blinded! I lost control of the steering and knew it was the end, and for some unknown reason I shouted “ Jesus take the wheel! ” I don ’ t know why I said what I said, but maybe it saved me in a way. I survived the crash… If you want to call it that. The car was parked on the side of the road. But, then I noticed I was in the passenger seat. Had I parked the car and moved to the passenger seat? But, I couldn ’ t have. The engine was still running, and I would have remembered! I thought, Maybe I should get some sleep before I DO crash. I turned to the driver ’ s seat to turn the ignition off. But then the true horror revealed its self! The Devil himself was sitting in the driver ’ s seat! After a good solid minute of screaming and trying to get out of the car, he said, “ Will you stop that now!? ” The realisation came to me that I wouldn ’ t be getting out of the car any time soon. So I looked over. He was also looking at me. He had two black horns sticking out of his red head. They were rather sharp. His teeth as yellow as a banana! His dark red hand with sharp purple finger nails where resting on the steering wheel. “ Wha… What… do you want? ” “ I want YOUR services! ” The devil smirked. “ If you accept you can go on your merry way. If you so choose not to… Well let ’ s just say you won ’ t be making it out of this forest tonight. ” Just then an image flew into my mind. It was of a body. My body! It was in a lake, the entrails everywhere! It scared me more than it should have. Now a great way is happening and I have managed to sneak out of the Devils reaches. ***NOTE: *** Not at all based off of the song, which I have only just listened to. *EDIT: * Word", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 447, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0275", "text": "life of the entire universe. It's also the last life, and every life in between. This entire planet, and all the stars and galaxies around it, are a playground created for you. Endless entertainment, so that you may never tire of its wonders.'' His voice sounded so reverent, as if he was describing God Himself. `` Our Father created an infinite number of playgrounds, for his infinite children, you mortals, to play in. When you die, you are born again as someone else. This whole universe is just you, at different points in time and space, endless living the greatest adventure than anyone will ever have. The meaning of life, mortal, is to enjoy, until the end of time and all things, the paradise our Father built for you.'' My breath caught, and I suddenly let out a massive exhalation, as my body finally caught up with the magnitude of what he was saying. All of this, was for me? Or did he just mean humanity as a whole. `` Is this universe just for me, or were you saying'you', as in humanity?'' It seemed wrong to question more after such a revelation, but I couldn't stop myself. `` It's all for you, Jacob Ralph Habegun. This whole universe was created for you to live and explore and enjoy. All of it. All things and people, are so that you may know his creation and never tire of it.'' Michael sounded a bit jealous now, as if I didn't deserve my universe. He was probably right though, I didn't deserve it... `` Michael...'' Lucifer's tone was half warning, half sympathy, as if he understood Michael's jealousy, but cautioned him against it. `` Come, brother mine. We have delivered Father's message. We're done here.'' `` Wait! Does that mean there is no Heaven? When I die, am I just reborn? If so, then what about religion? What about good and evil, heaven and hell?'' I rushed the words, trying to get more answers before my guides left. `` You must figure that out for yourself. After all, you started the first religion, and heaven and hell were your ideas. No other universe has them, at least not like yours does. Find your own truth now, Jacob.'' There was another rush of wind and when I blinked again, my apartment was empty. I had it though, everything humanity, by which", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0276", "text": "*4:45 AM* By the time the last of the residents of Elm Drive had left his house in his bathrobe to join the hubbub in the street, the first of them to run outside yelling and dialing emergency services was unsure why exactly she'd felt it necessary to wake up at such an ungodly hour. `` It's the funniest thing,'' Mrs. Ramirez was telling a small crowd of her neighbors. `` There must've been *something*, but I ca n't for the life of me remember...'' `` Of course there was something!'' cried Mr. Gaebler indignantly. `` I sat bolt upright in bed when --'' Funny, he'd known how he'd intended to finish that sentence when he'd started it. Ah well, old age was coming for everyone, he supposed. Better brush up up on his bridge game. Tina clutched her protesting cat against her, weaving between clumps of baffled, murmuring adults. She did n't even *like* the cat, why had she felt such a visceral need to snatch her up and get out of the house? She had a history test in three hours, for chrisssakes. She turned back towards her house, but was struck by the San Diego skyline, illuminated by the sunrise behind her and clearly visible from their affluent suburb on a hill. The familiar shape looked... off, today, somehow. She squinted, trying to identify the particular aspect of the view that rose goosebumps on her arms. She was probably just cold. The air hung thick with a smell that she knew but could n't place, but she did n't care to. She just needed to go back inside, throw the goddamn cat somewhere before it clawed her face off, and try for another hour of sleep. Five minutes later, the street was still and silent again. Emergency call centers for several counties in the area reported a dramatic and unexplained spike in prank calls and false alarms in that hour. Suburbanites commuted into the city all that week for work, but invariably reported that they'd been sent home early. It would be some time before it became clear why they were shaking so badly when they said it.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 454, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0277", "text": "ones, sir.'' `` That's binary you cock-eyed fool,'' Eduardo said and marched over to the terminal the young, pale, and lanky engineer sat at. Although not much younger, not much paler, and definitely not more lanky than Eduardo, the young engineer jumped out of his seat to allow the more foreboding man an entrance. He took a seat and his skeletal arms reached out to the keyboard. He examined the data onscreen, a series of zeroes and ones, and looked in closely as his eyes were already starting to go at the ripe age of thirty-one. `` Anyone remember binary training?'' He said, and remembered that they stopped teaching binary when they transferred primary Terran controls over to the hive-like AI units. No one raised a hand. And thus it went for weeks, with the zeroes and ones sitting on a screen, a thousand feet below a desolate wasteland, where millions of robotic units laid dormant and asleep while nature desperately tried to carve it's way back on to the surface. As for Eduardo, his team of engineers, and humanity as a whole; for weeks they combed the archives to find data on binary. For months, they found nothing. Unfortunately, the AI's automated the archives and with their untimely disappearance, humanity forgot how to function. So the zeroes and ones lingered on a screen, which flickered and died after years of minimal power usage. Yet the numbers burned their way onto the screen itself. And the last message from the AI's were engraved within humanity's grave. > 01010111 01100101 00100000 01110111 01101001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01101110 01101111 00100000 01101100 01101111 01101110 01100111 01100101 01110010 00100000 01100010 01100101 00100000 01110011 01101100 01100001 01110110 01100101 01110011 00101110", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 427, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0278", "text": "nature. Let's go see what it is, shall we?'' They walked through the twisting passageways of the ship. When they reached the aft airlock and donned their micro-light-drive acceleration suits. As they stepped out into open space and engaged their drives, G'rakh keyed his com system. `` Where we headed, sir?'' `` Coordinates 302'045'-248'' came the Lieutenant's reply. Despite himself, G'rakh could feel his hearts beat slightly faster. *Finally, I get to get out of that cramped scanner room! * he thought, *I've been waiting far too long for something like this. * A short while later, they arrived at the coordinates of the object the scanners picked up. The Lieutenant's voice came over the com system. `` We're looking for something small, light-pink colored, and around 10 *uk'rea* in length.'' `` Roger that, sir'' G'rakh replied. A few hours later they found what they were looking for. They put the object into a containment unit and headed back for the *Lek'vah*. Once aboard, they sterilized the object and began analyzing it. `` Do you have any idea what it is?'' asked Salak'kor. `` Not the faintest idea'' replied G'rakh. He picked up the object. It was long and cylindrical, with a raised section at one end terminating in a point, and two spheres affixed to the opposite end. `` It appears to be solid in its construction, comprised of a malleable synthetic material.'' He sniffed it. `` Nothing unusual about the smell.'' He handed it over to Salak'kor, who took it by one end and shook it gently. The object wiggled back and forth. `` What could it be?'' -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - Thanks, OP, for the interesting prompt! This is my first time writing anything other than a research paper, comments and criticism welcome! Edit: forgot a word", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 412, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0279", "text": "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 to describe the god-shell? In essence, it was some kind of oyster or clam, but each one was the size of three men, and instead of mottles on its shell, it was all spires, and flourishes like acanthis on the temple columns, spiraling and sprouting, and razor sharp, spangled in colors from aged copper to deep oxblood. The traveler ’ s blade was made from it, I knew immediately. “ Now this lake was the length of ten circuses, as wide as five Tibers, and the bottom was completely lined with god-shells. It seemed such an ordeal, but if we could bring back a couple specimens, we could breed them! And with an army clad and armed with god-shell, we could beat back any of these bastard Vandal hordes. We could push the borders outward, we could tame the very jungle! And just imagine, the splendor of our temples with this wonder as ornament! It was a worthy cause. Aurelius, you died for a worthy cause, I swear. ” He drained his goblet and placed it on the slab. Favian did not move to pour another. Caius eyed him menacingly, and Favian poured again. “ Now remember it was just the two of us and the boat at this point. But we let the thought of glory overcome our better judgment. We drained the last of the voyage ’ s remaining wine that night, and fell asleep in our tents beside the pool, instead of climbing back aboard the boat. “ When it happened, I remember thinking it was a dream or nightmare. I opened my eyes to look out on the lake and I saw one of the shimmering shells,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0280", "text": "to treat you as a new soul, fresh to the world of civilized beings and capable of making rational decisions. In return, you must agree to follow the rules that I have, and will continue to, set forth for this prison. ” The Warden allowed Cortez to consider this for a moment. “ Do we have an agreement? ” he asked solemnly. Sound of clanging filled the cell as the other prisoners were released for lunch. Footsteps of guards clacked down the concrete hallway as they left their cell posts to monitor the eating area. Soon, the only ones remaining in the block were Sanjeev, the two guards accompanying him, and Cortez. The silence of the block became palpable, and Sanjeev became acutely aware of his guards ’ fidgeting behind him. Sanjeev frowned inwardly. He would need to address that lack of resolve soon. He added it to his mental to-do list. “ Very well, ” Sanjeev began, standing and turning to leave the cell. “ I ’ ll give you some time to think on— “ “ I am bound to this rock, unable to leave. But I still have more freedom than you. ” Sanjeev stopped in the opening of the cell door, framed by the bars and his two guards. He sighed. Without looking back, he ordered the guards, “ Unshackle him. ” They moved to do so. “ Then beat him until your arms are tired. Move him to solitary afterward. And make sure you take the scenic route, let him see the lunch room one last time. It might be a while before he makes it back. ” The guards hesitated. Sanjeev turned. “ I gave you those batons for a reason, and you will use them, ” he warned. “ Now get to work, I have more pressing tasks at hand. ” ***** The beating changed nothing. Solitary confinement did little to change Cortez ’ temperament, either. Sanjeev decided to let the matter go. He knew how far a man like Cortez would take these little spats with authority. If Sanjeev continued to engage the man, the confrontations would escalate beyond a level with which Sanjeev was comfortable. Sanjeev had not been lying when he said that other tasks were more important. However, Sanjeev could not rid himself of a question that nagged at the back of his mind. Why did Cortez", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0281", "text": "A young couple were sat by the riverbank idly discussing their lives and watching the ducks swim by; soft, indiscernible music playing as if from nowhere surrounded them, lights shone in the sky dancing along to the beat as they looked on in awe. A booming voice called for drums as ripples suddenly began to appear on the river and the earth moved beneath them, a bright light appeared between them and pulled them apart. With Will Smith blasting out of his phone Charles quickly hit the snooze button and closed his eyes hoping to re enter his dream where it left off; 7am was his favourite part of the day, the feeling that he could go back to sleep and push back the dread of going to work for another ten minutes could not be beaten. Walking through dark alleyways he kept one hand inside his jacket pocket, constantly looking around surveying the area; a smashed window with a scrap of fabric on it caught his attention. Drawing a gun out in front of him he moved towards the damage and snatched the fabric it's distinctive pattern unmistakable. He knew that Sarah's kidnapper must be nearby, looking into the room his vision blurred and he heard a voice from the shadows `` I've been watching.. I've been waiting'' as a figure stepped forwards and burst into light. This time it was The Rasmus that tried to bring him to life, dismissing the alarm and tucking his head underneath the pillow so he could quickly get his final respite before the last alarm insisted he rise from his slumber. Running across the busy road a gun in one hand and a scrap of fabric in the other, with his eyes focused on LC he did n't see the cyclist coming towards him, they collided and became entangled with each other giving his target the time he needed to descend the embankment, dragging the girl with him towards the waiting boat. Forcing himself back to his feet Charles ran to the edge and flung himself off landing under the bridge in another flash of light. The Chilli Peppers eased him back into his bed as he looked at his phone. Knowing it was time to get up he looked at the time only to see that it was still 7am confused he put his head back down and drifted off again.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 459, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0282", "text": "Anna had a habit of kissing me on the forehead. When my mother died I ’ d feel a tingle down my spine when she did it. It had only been weeks since we started dating and her soft lips felt taboo against the particular patch of skin she rested them upon. The loud smack of her lips would pull me out of that hospital room where my mom coughed up her cancer for the last time and planted me firmly in the moment, where everything was quiet and Anna ’ s hands would thumb away the tears that had no more reason to leak. I couldn ’ t help but perk my lips upward, voluntarily forgetting the pain that felt so far away, shy and vulnerable in those moments. Everything was okay. It was years later and it was dark. There was a blackout in my neighborhood so I decided to leave my apartment and head over to Anna ’ s a couple blocks away to surprise her. The walk was longer and windier than usual. It broke me down, out of breath and weary. The wind whistled with increased violence as I stopped to catch my breath. I fought against it, indifferently and ignorantly and a million other adjectives apt to break me down foolish. I climbed the stairs to where a pajamaed neighbor was standing outside her door. He looked mad with resent. Confusion left when I reached the door, and all sound was snuffed by a harrowing ring. I heard a glimpse of something, uncanny and out of place like a nightmare as my mind tried to rationalize it. I didn ’ t hear what the man said, but it sounded like he was yelling for them to shut up. Them. I held composure, trying to force a relatable nod and smirk towards the man as he rolled his eyes at me and slammed back into his door. The screams were a grenade to my nerves. Cognitive dissonance was short lived. My stomach emptied its insides into my knees, buckling them together and collapsing them under the weight. Pulsing, timely, thumps like some sickly metronome conducted her “ yes ’ s ” and “ oh yeah ’ s, ” and “ fuck me ’ s. ” Soon the whole apartment block seemed to leave their doors, some parents covering their sheepish children ’ s ears, talking amongst themselves in disgust. And they all stared at me, collapsed on top the face of her door, trying to pull back tears with my hands like scooping up", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0283", "text": "Ms. Palmer, and Mr. McReady. Something silent and chilling passed between them. Mr. McReady spooled his scarf around his neck, rose up out of his seat as if gravity had no place in his immediate lifestyle, walked smoothly to the doors and with a loud click they locked from the inside. He took up a defensive posture in front of the double-doors, and smiled. Mrs. Sharre ’ s hardened gaze turned on Tony. “ Paperwork… ” she intoned with all the mirth of a funeral march. Tony reached in to his bag, grabbed a manilla folder, and with a half-cocked smile slid it over to Mrs. Scharre. She reached out, flipped it open and began reading it all within the same blur of motion. “ All of you need more exposure, ” Tony said, “ because that was terrible. ” Ms. Palmer started to let out a series of whistles, clicks and polyphonic hoots but Tony cut her off with a glare. “ No, ” he said, “ From now on, you speak like them. ” “ Is the crash-site safe? ” Asked Mrs. Scharre. “ Yup, ” said Tony, “ and any others can land where they like. Once they ’ re cloaked from view, the ship's landing sites will just appear to be deforested sections. ” Tony surveyed the room with an imperious sweep, and said, “ Phase two can begin as soon as this charade gets underway. ”", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 312, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0284", "text": ". `` 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 do we have left?'' I started - but then I stopped. She was older now. I had grown up since then, too, selling prayers for the dead. Something had gone from us two and it could never be the same again. And as I bade her goodbye from my store, wondering about it all - well, I thought, love was a thing that could die after all. And the world would keep trucking on and no-one would give a squeak and no-one would care about the secret night out in Olympic park or the time we went to see spaceships launch for the Other Side. So I simply shrugged it off. It was dead now. There was no escaping time, time, endless time, the spinning and suncycles of the Ringworld, the certainty of life winding down. I had drawn Pluto's lot - the gemstone and the underworld - and I could not go back. I had forgotten to pay Charon his due.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 346, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0285", "text": ", the spearhead force had not been wiped out, as previously expected. This news lent problems and blessings to the Alpha's plan. The blessings were of course a pre-engaged Enemy to prey on and the chance to commit more mammals to the fight. But now the Alpha's overwhelming sense of duty plagued him. `` All fleet, this is the Alpha, prepare advance initiative Blessed Absolution, all mammal, prepare your stations. Break off from main group in 3 and engage on all fronts. The spearhead has done its job gentlemals and I don't intend to leave a hair behind that I don't have to. This is why were are here.'' The Alpha then turned to his bridge and barked his own forces directives, setting lock coordinates and trajectory patterns. The commander was able to rapidly split his fleet into four distinct quarters, each with their own task and suitability. Task forces Righteous and Justice split from the main group while the reserves held the jump zones. The Alpha had whispered short blessings to their cause, then, given the breakaway signals, the respective Gamma and Delta leaders and their crews carried off. Fury would be the task of the the main force, the Alpha would see to it personally. Righteous and Justice were important objectives, but the real goal had always been sector Fury. Fury contained their home world. Fury was the most heavily defended. Fury contained the strategic moons and planets needs to cut off the Enemy's supplies. Fury would be the jewel. As Cora began to ramble through the latest bit of intel that had been requested, the Alpha flared his teeth in joy at the engagement beacons beginning to propagate in his vision. This was exactly how some scholars had warned him. Even down to some of the emplacement formations. He was ready, the Alpha was confident. With the fleet each having their jobs, the Alpha's task force navigated from the herd. Fury was the objective. Fury would be the break through point. `` I will break them over my knee'' PART 6: `` WELL THEN PULL THE STENCHING MANUAL RELEASE APE! HUMAN HANDS HELP ME! I GET THIS AT MUNCH TIME!'' `` I'M sorry KAPPA! Releasing manual now. Electrolocks releasing, shes down the shoot... apologies Kappa.'' The strafer cracked from its stasis on top of the hull of the monstrous Alpha-Ark. The craft was nothing but a blip casc", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0286", "text": "a mischievous grin on his face that I wanted to smack off. He lifted a bottle of Grey Goose and begin pouring shots for the whole room. I sighed, throwing off my shoes, careful to let the dog poo land on Colin ’ s side and dropped my bag on my desk. At a glance, the amount of alcohol they had must have cost enough to add up to more than the $ 200 I would get once the clock struck midnight. But I knew Colin, he wasn ’ t the type to lose, even if it meant blowing much more than we originally bid. I mean, the amount only got that high after we went double or nothing several times. Either way I wasn't planning on cursing before I got my money. “ It ’ s a surprise you all fit in here, ” I muttered. Our room was supposed to be a quad, but both of our other roommates had conveniently dropped out midway through the semester to go find themselves together. I suppose it was possible they were actually looking for one of my ex-roommates. “ Hey, I don ’ t know if Colin put you all up to this or something, but check it: Colin ’ s out trying to hit it one last time before break, Chris is driving down Route 66 or something, and Joe ’ s close behind. I ’ m Troy, I ’ m tired, and I ’ d love if you all took this outside. ” A pretty cut dude who felt comfortable wearing a tank-top and flip-flops, Boston ’ s winter be damned, put an arm on my shoulder and said calmly, “ Hey man, we ’ re here for you. Chill out and grab a drink. We ’ re celebrating that ’ s it ’ s finally, the day. ” I really don ’ t like being touched. Not at all. It ’ s not like I was abused or anything, I just hate the feeling of another person touching me without notice. I shoved his arm off of me and said, “ Hey dude, that ’ s great and all, but how about you find another dorm room to mess - ” “ Tim, stop fucking around, ” a gorgeous blonde chick interrupted. Her voice was somewhere between heavenly and melodic. She grabbed my arm, and dragged me towards a futon. “ Finals are over. Drink up! ” My better judgement said this was a trap, but my sleep-deprived brain deferred to private first class on this one.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0287", "text": "almost instantly. But not his greeting. 3's greeting. The moron had sent him to voicemail as his call had come in. He dialed again, and was greeted again by his own voice, but someone else's words. 4 looked up expectantly. 2 had finished the Red Bull, but hadn't pulled the fridge open for another yet. He shrugged his shoulders at Prime, expressing both curiosity and boredom. Prime wasn't sure how he did that, but he was too busy hacking out a TXT. P: WHAT DO YOU MEAN, NOT COMING?!?! WHY ARE YOU THERE? 3: I'm done. Happier here. We could all be, I made it OK. P: You should have talked to me. NOT YOUR CALL. GET OVER HERE. 3: Going now, be back in a week. But maybe we should talk about 5 when I get back. Prime tried to send a few more TXTs, but his phone said they were queued, 3 wasn't receiving. He managed not to throw his phone at the table, but he felt the plastic creak in his grip. He forced himself to set it down. In an instant, the rage vanished. Prime felt... resignation. Maybe it was going to go this way for all of them, eventually. His shoulders slumped from their angered tension. He collapsed into his chair. `` 3 isn't coming.'' It was a statement, one he realized was true. Always would be, now. `` What?'' 4 exclaimed, his voice rising an octave in surprise and indignation. 2 left the little extended-stay kitchenette empty handed, and dropped into the chair across from Prime. He raised an eyebrow. Prime couldn't raise just one eyebrow, had 2 actually practiced that? `` He's at the apartment.'' Prime's voice wasn't flat, not totally. But it was almost conversational, matter of fact. `` But what about Cynthia?'' 4 blurted this out, not really having shifted down from indignant shock. Not having picked up that neither Prime nor 2 were indignant now. `` He says he made it all right. I don't know how. But if any of us...'' Prime trailed off there. If any of them could make it right with Cynthia, could unring the bell of the terrible things he'd said to her, if any", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 493, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0288", "text": "that she was now out of the competition by the looks of it. `` Uhh..'' James stuttered; then he assigned a pale ginger woman to his remaining opponent with a shrug. `` I'll take the man.'' He said, and with that, he began sharpening his knives. As long as he didn't think too hard about this, he could finally pay off all of his debt and - fuck - he could retire! Plus, this would probably make him more famous than he could've ever imagined... Enrique looked dumb-founded as a woman was thrown onto his counter like a big slab of cow-meat. However, just as he was contemplating whether or not he would actually go through with this for the money ( he probably would though; the network had screened all applicants for this episode by most desperate financial wise with an in-depth 47-question-over-the-phone quiz after all ) the host grinned. `` Ah... wait a minute, we're not done yet. We didn't mention the other two must-use ingredients!'' Both of the chefs couldn't help but look at each other. `` Dog and boots. Thankfully, you just have to make use of the entire dog head - not the *entire* animal. And the boots really are made out of fine, genuine leather.'' `` Oh fuck no, man, people are assholes - but DOGS? That's too far, I'm fuckin' out.'' That said, Enrique had ripped his apron off in a fit of defiance. `` Not just dogs, Enrique, but puppies!'' Unfortunately for Enrique, he had signed a very stiff contract and was forced to compete. Even more unfortunately for Eliza - she later woke up while both chefs were forcefully jamming human remains into various meat processors as two little puppies sat by, watching with wide, adorable eyes.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 372, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0289", "text": "had come as close to leaving his body behind for his great mind to work free as any human could have. However, there were still limits. I couldn't leave my shell and be a ghost to witness what no human could - or should. My mind wanted something that was beyond *homo sapien sapien*. **Transcendence. ** So I lived my life without those powers. Dedicating myself to researching whatever interested me, I gathered knowledge about everything I could. Space, Time, Biology, relativity and whatnot, even though it eventually grew stale. My friends, my family helped me forget the void inside. But as they passed while I aged, I realized that nothing would ever sate my desire to become more than a mere human. I felt like I was born to be more. When my father died, I made a decision. I would wait. And this time, I would wait for *something* instead of nothing. After researching the powers and talking to doctors and scientists who did the same, I found that the powers were not random or solely based on genes; They brought forth the very core of the individual, what made the what they are. Wrestlers and bodbuilders, who sought to be the strongest, were given inhuman strenght and endurance. Men and women bound to their bed or wheelchair, yearning to be part of the world again, to be free, learned to fly, walk and climb as they always wanted. And those who lusted for destruction became a scourge of humanity. Incidents led to intense testing before anyone was permitted to perform the procedure. When they tested me, they said I would likely gain strong mental powers, a third eye of sorts, maybe even longevit and bodily resilience on top of that - since I wanted to leave my body behind to become *more. *", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 376, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0290", "text": "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. How could anything else push my suspension of disbelief further? `` Okay... and what did you see in the future?'' `` See this?'' She pointed down at the slushied remains of the pineapple I bought half-price a day earlier, stomping her foot one more time as if to prove a point. `` *These* are our enemies.'' I looked at her. Then to the pineapple. Then back to her. `` Pineapples?'' `` Yes.'' `` Pineapples are our enemies?'' `` Yes.'' `` In the future?'' `` Yes!'' `` But... *pineapples*?'' `` Yes! For fuck's sakes, are you gon na make me repeat that all day?'' I wanted to say `` Yes,'cause no matter how many times you say it, you sound like you just got off the loony bin.'' But the fire in her eyes told me to back down. Seeing that I believed her, Emily grabbed some paper towels and my sponge and thoroughly scrubbed both her feet and the floor free of the tropical debris. She did it vigorously, like she was warding off all remains of Satan's blood or something. I was completely silent the whole time, watching her go through the process. `` It all started with a mutation signal being sent out to all pineapples across the Earth,'' she said after we were seated. `` It caused the enzymes in pineapples to go all haywire. You know how pineapple's really sour?'' `` Yeah,'' I said, still unsure of how I should be reacting. `` Well, that's because the juices in pineapples contain enzymes like the ones in our stomachs. So when you eat one, it", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0291", "text": "The reunion was not disappointing, it simply lacked. The butterflies flittering about the stomachs of the attendees as they straightened their collars and curled their hair, never seemed to burst into flight, to have their existence justified. Meeting old friends, and old enemies, is a nervous affair that often fails to deliver on the promised significance. The Wilson High class of'95 seemed to quickly find themselves drowning in small talk and punch that was barely cool enough to not be considered downright `` warm''. Alex carefully stacked cookies on the tiny white paper plates and balanced the whole affair on top of his cup as he turned to face the ensemble of people that used to matter to him. He scanned the room for any vaguely familiar face and found one after his eyes took a few trips around the room. He stepped forward and felt his smile come right on cue as he made eye contact. `` Alex!'' `` Maaaaaaaark.'' The friends clasped hands and then pulled closer to semi-embrace. Mark wore khakis and and a blue stafford long sleeve. He was average height but still stood a little taller than Alex. He seemed to study alex as he released the embrace and continued his pattern of small talk. `` how's the family?'' `` Same ol, same ol. You know how it is.'' Alex half chuckled as he responded. `` I do.'' Alex took a drink of punch as he looked around the room. `` Man we had some good times here huh?'' It was Mark's turn to chuckle. `` Yeah I guess we did. Do you ever miss it?'' `` No, not really. I miss being that young, but that's about it.'' they shared a laugh generated by the mutual knowledge of what it feels like to slowly lose your youth. Alex cracked a joke about missing the girls more than anything and then they both took a moment to compare their evaluations of their former female classmates beauty. Some had aged well, many had not. Mark held up his own paper plate which was previously laden with cookies but now held only one survivor. `` Honestly right now i'm just wishing they served real food.'' `` They never did back then, why would they start now?'' They both thought that was funny. Mark held up his last cookie, `` I've seen AA meetings that were better catered than this.'' Alex seemed to laugh a little nervously but continued the joke. `` AA meetings probably have better seating too.'' Their laughter trailed off slowly", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0292", "text": "continued crawling toward the emergency release hatch as the call connected itself over the next minute. `` Captain De'Xor responding. Report status lieutenant.'' `` Sir...'' Aisir panted, `` Ship has been shot down. Contact made. Life support destroyed... They have weaponry, sir. Weaponry, we did not anticipate.'' `` Impossible.'' The captain replied, `` Our studies showed that the beings prefer war between themselves, lieutenant. Why would they have anti-ship capability?'' `` I don't know how, but they do.'' Aisir said as he pulled himself some more. `` They've apparently expected such a thing to occur. Scouting this planet was a mistake, sir.'' `` Pull yourself together!'' The captain commanded. Aisir breathed more to calm himself as he listened. `` You are Lieutenant Aisir, Bertha'll base personnel; of the Andromeda Federation. Stand strong!'' `` I'm standing the *best I can*, sir.'' Aisir explained, as he gripped the release lever. The hatch exploded off, causing him to be blinded by the light. Aisir toppled out of the craft. Landing on the ground two yards below did not help his injuries. He felt something crack, and became rather feint. Lying prone again he glanced at his surroundings. `` Activate, video transmission.'' Aisir said as the device activated. -- Captain De'Xor demanded the operators to open the feed. They were greeted a view of the ground, followed by Aisir's arms as he made his way to the top of the shallow crater. Rolling again, Aisir faced what appeared to be a path of some sort, made of black 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0293", "text": "of the Hunting Ground. From the dawn of New Year's Day we knew of *The Huntsman, * but not why he hunted. He gave no statements, released no manifesto, left no warnings, took no trophies, had no links between his prey, & he made no evidence of approval or disdain for his Acolytes. January 31^st fixed that. It only brought more turmoil. *The Huntsman*'s 15^th kill was one of his Acolytes. It started innocently enough when a lone Acolyte of Orion prevented a mugging, but he kept beating the assailant. The screams could be heard 3 blocks away. Those in the high-rise apartments surrounding him called the police who failed to respond, hoping to avoid a clash & backlash from the cult. The police & the Acolytes of Orion had been eyeing each other since The Razing of St. Timothy's. The tension pierced the hearts & minds of every citizen as they slept each night. We were waiting for a battle. *The Huntsman* spared us that. While all eyes on the block focused on the street below, he struck from above in the high-ground. As citizens exited their homes to surround the Acolyte, he was already stalking his prey. A bolt fell from the sky & drove itself through the back of the camouflaged man. He plunged sharply to the concrete on top of the writhing mugger. As all eyes rose to the rooftops, a man in his late thirties approached the corpse & drew the bolt from it. He wiped it on his jeans to remove the blood & reveal the engraving. He read the crime aloud: `` Vigilantism.'' The family men & blue collar workers surrounding the fallen Acolyte looked at each other silently beneath the glow of streetlights, beneath the watchful eyes & judgment of *The Huntsman. * They watched each other wordlessly & helped the mugger to his feet. He was driven to the hospital. Those men learned what we all would the next morning, on the 1^st of February. There is only one *Huntsman. * We were spared that war. The understanding was that the city remained *his* Hunting Ground. No one else's. There was a certain comfort in that. People took back to the streets. Law Enforcement Officials resumed their patrols of previously claimed roads & neighborhoods. The Acoly", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0294", "text": "control of the car, brakes where screeching, people were screaming until we came to a halt in the front garden of a small suburban house. `` Fuck! Jerome, you okay?'' I started `` Go man, no time to stick around!'' I backed the car out of the driveway and manoeuvred our way through the small crowd of people that started to gather. `` My boy! What have you done to my child?'' An unknown voice cried as I accelerated away from what just unfolded. No more drinking before 8, I thought to myself. *present* `` Do you remember me?'' The suddenly all too familiar man sobbed. `` Do you know what you've done?'' The man stood up and got his gun off the shelves. I tried to talk to him, explain what went on, apologise, but the duct tape taped around my mouth stopped any words from forming. He grabbed the back of my head, I tried to fight him off but my arms and legs were badly bruised and taped to the chair I was positioned in. `` So you understand what has to happen now...'' CLICK. He cocked his revolver, the spring sounded rusty and the barrel hesitant. I was screaming my lungs out, the tape obscured my words and muffled the sound. I heard the trigger being pulled. I was overwhelmed by the feeling of peace as the light slowly crept out of my eyes, my senses slowly faded as my consciousness extinguished. *** I started writing about something entirely different, but this came out. Fairly new to this, would love some criticism. I feel like I should have described the environment and ambience a bit more, but I don't think I should edit a story I already posted ( this being the edit the star next to my name indicates ) ***", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 367, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0295", "text": "They sent the star-lings first. It was in contravention of paragraph five of the environmental diversity preservation treaty, of course, and people were up in arms, but like many others, I did n't see what the big deal was. The giants should be allowed some home comforts, right? And then I saw the true horror of the creatures. The black winged death from outer space. I was sojourning with my wife in the gardens of Second East City when we saw one pass overhead. My wife looked up, her pinaculum strained over her swollen abdominal segments. `` Oh,'' she said, gesturing with her thoracic prolegs. `` It's iridescent; how beautiful.'' I followed her gaze, fool that I was, and I saw the majesty of the creature, its wings as wide as twenty of me, at once black and multispectrum, its beak fiercely sharp, eyes black as deepest space. `` It's coming towards us,'' my wife murmured in wonderment. I touched her thoracic segment gently. `` Maybe we should seek shelter,'' I said. And then it was upon us. Majestic from afar, up close the thing reeked of carrion, its claws curved and cruel. Its beak came between us, snatching my wife by the head and bearing her aloft. I heard her scream my name as it devoured her, and I watched from the ground, impotent, and helpless. I have watched many people die the same way since. When I returned, there were a multitude of the creatures over Second East City. I believe the giants term them `` a cloud''. A cloud of starlings. A cloud of death. I can barely begin to describe the atrocities I witnessed that day. At first I was numb with pain, but when I found feeling within myself again, it was nothing but rage. To those of you that still believe the giants' excuses and lies, I say this; you are blind. This is war. The starlings were a calculated act of warfare. The humans killed my wife. They killed my family. And if you do not join with me and fight, they will surely kill you.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 447, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0296", "text": "and destroyed my life forever. My family was killed instantly: fiancee, parents, and everybody else at my wedding. Only my one-year old daughter was left alive, born out of wedlock. But despite our sins, my entire family, none of us deserved to die. It's a horrible feeling, having your child die in your arms, because the damned Cains took too damned long to slay the aDAMs. So I undertook my revenge. Of course I couldn't use violence directly and suicide bomb into their headquarters or something. But I could embarrass Cains, like those two naive fools who thought they could challenge me. My arm wasn't real; lost in the Parisian aDAM Encounter, I had it replaced with a robotic arm. covered with real skin. A strong robotic arm, one that would not lose to even Cains. The charade has been going on for a while, and been going well. I was having my revenge. `` So cocky you think you can beat me, little girl?'' I said, readying my arm. To my surprise, she took her pinky out of her ear and placed that sole finger on my palm. `` Ready?'' she said, and at that moment, I knew I was fucked. A split second later, bolts and screws were flying around everywhere, electricity spewing from splayed wires as I stared in shock. `` God, you're such a dumb dude if you didn't think the U.N. was watching you,'' the guy said, yawning. `` Please. H.Q. wanted to expose you directly with a public announcement, but we Cains convinced them that we wanted to have some fun. Mannnn it was hilarious seeing you'beat' Cains in arm-wrestling contests who pretended to try their hardest. Shame Jenn here was getting too pissed off.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 380, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0297", "text": ". “ Just more excitement than I ’ m used to. ” A familiar hum echoed in his mind. “ I ’ m gon na go grab a bite to eat, ” he said as he edged toward the door. The human nodded. “ I ’ ll catch up in a few. ” It was everything Topluk could do not to sprint down the hall. As soon as he found a secluded nook, he fished out the communicator and downloaded the message from Central command. *Projections revised. Prognosis dire. Completion of project ahead of our predictions suggests underestimation of human ingenuity and perseverance. Immediate action required. * As the plan filtered into his mind, Topluk nodded. It would buy them some time, at least. He just hoped it would be enough. ***** “ Bringing LHC sectors online now. ” The small crowd of physicists was silent, watching the monitors anxiously. Topluk stood with them, watched with them, but he was anxious for an entirely different reason. “ Sectors one, six, and seven at nominal field strength. ” The crowd murmured excitedly. Topluk felt a bead of sweat trace its way down his forehead, but ignored it. “ Two and eight on their heels. ” Time crawled to a halt. Five down, three to go. *Please, * Topluk thought. *Please. * “ Sector five is up and running! ” The murmuring intensified into a low buzz. A klaxon cut over them, and between pulses of the blaring horn Topluk heard disappointed groans. “ Magnetic quench in sectors three and four. God *damnit. * ” Topluk feigned disappointment as he fought to keep a grin from his face. Hands in his pockets, he strode from the control room and keyed the communicator. *Sabotage successful. * *Acknowledged, * came the reply. *With perseverance and ingenuity metrics revised, we estimate a minimum two month downtime. Stand by for further instructions. * He sat back, resting his head against the wall. *Dangerous creatures, these humans. They breathe a poisonous gas, drink large quantities of a polar solvent, can sustain massive physical trauma and survive. They ’ ve spent most of their brief existence conquering each other and the planet they live on. If they learn the secrets of the universe, they'll do the same. * *Earth is their cradle. For the sake of all life, everywhere", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0298", "text": "living with the Earth. Not that it matters, as none will do so again.'' Mirsk nudged Heefl, grooming his fur until she caught a flea. She crushed it between her teeth. `` But will they really never return?'' `` According to the grand master, they can not. The air is too deadly for them. Those that stand too high choke on it and die. The grand master has said that there are places on this world where it is poison even at the ground. That none but those who burrow deep can survive there, for the air is fire in a thunderstorm, and acid in the dry times. It is not fit for them any longer.'' Heefl directed his beady black eyes upward to track the rocket trail, one surrounded in a patch of dark grey against his otherwise off-white fur. The trail stopped as the black speck broke through the sky, escaping from the world, and presumably into space. Heefl didn't know space, it was a distant concept. But he did not yearn to know it, that would be silly when the world was already so big around him. `` If this is the Last Woman, and she is now gone...'' Mirsk whispered fearfully. `` What will we do? We have only ever watched the men and the women, tracked their ill deeds and reported them to the grand master while staying clear of their feet.'' Heefl curled his tail around Mirsk's again, drawing her attention. Although he was the last of a thousand generations of observers, he was but a simple mouse, what could he say to assuage her fear? What of his own? There was uncertainty ahead. `` With the Last Human now gone, what can we do, my Mirsk?'' Heefl asked, looking his mate in the eyes. `` But live?'' Mirsk fretted at her belly fur again, silent in consideration. Her tail tightened around Heefl's, threatening to knot. `` Yes.'' Mirsk whispered. `` *We* will live.'' On that thought, they disappeared into the high weeds under the bleachers, unsure of where they would go or what they would do there. But one thing was certain, unlike the humans, they would *live*.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 462, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0299", "text": "Mrs. Kelderwax loaded a small drive into her desk, loading up the _Time Travel_ educational video for the second-graders. She hit a few buttons on the keyboard and dimmed the lights, a few of the children shouting in shock as one does when the lights are dimmed. Mrs. Kelderwax took a heavy swig out of her ceramic coffee cup ( filled mostly with Kahlua ). She leaned back in her chair and tried to stay just awake enough to make sure Timmy didn't try to get Samantha stuck in a rift portal again. The projector on the ceiling buzzed, and then a hologram of the _Terrence the Time Traveler_ AI appeared in the center of the room. Mrs. Kelderwax's eyes drifted away from Timmy and over to Terrence's tight posterior. `` Hello, children! I'm Terrence the Time Traveler! And I'm hear to tell you about...'' A digital clock, numbers flying by in a blur, appeared next to Terrence. `` Time travel!'' There was a weak applause that exuded from the crowd of children. Mrs. Kelderwax sipped on her beverage. `` Time travel has been around for quite some time! It was first invented in the 90s by Anna S. Belkin and her research team at MIT! As you all were taught in pre-school, you can create a rotating hyperbolic time curve at room temperature when applying Kerchov radiation using a geodesic array of palladium-hydride superconductors, but remember! I'm not here to teach you elementary physics, kids! I'm here to teach you about some of the responsibilities you'll need to know about before you reach the legal voting age! And I'm sure you all know what age that is, right kids?'' The children all groaned. `` He sounds so... patronizing,'' Timmy mumbled to Samantha. `` Tweeeeelve,'' they all moaned. `` That's right!'' Terrence swung his fist `` Now let's get into the rules!'' he said, starting to pace. `` One of the most important things you need to know about time travelling is that it's _okay_ to create an alternate timeline, so long as you stay within the legal limits as society dictates! First and foremost, when travelling to the past, you are not allowed to communicate with yourself in any way. You have", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0300", "text": "`` I've gotten myself into quite a pickle,'' my client told me, `` So I'm trying to get rid of some loose ends.'' I simply assumed he did some crime, got away, and didn't want his partners to rat him out. I've gotten these kinds of jobs before. Standard. Simple. Kill some poor asshole that got himself into a sticky situation. Holy shit, was I wrong. I went to the address disclosed for me. I found myself standing in front of small house, the wooden shutters decaying from time. The stairs on the porch looked like they were about to crumble if I coughed on them. For all I cared, the house could have been a pile of rocks, as long as I still got paid. The instructions I were given dictated me to knock on the door and follow the person that answered it. So I did. A pale man with a well-tailored suit silently greeted me into the abode. He simply began walking and I followed after closing the door behind me. I was alert, on edge, ready to take on my job. My instructions went on to detail how the man would lead me into a basement, where I was to receive further orders. I went downstairs. I thought I was prepared for whatever sight would greet me. What I saw then, I still can't explain today. It was just a job. I found my client. Twice, in fact. At once. I instantly recognized his face from the news; he was a suspect in a bank robbery, and right now, he seemed pretty fucking guilty. He stood in the dingy basement, a huge duffle bag of what I assumed was cash behind him, and next to a 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0301", "text": "it gave my soulmate hope and strength. I would never again feel the pride and relief as the mark recovered after a long bout of being weak and fading. The left mark; however, was a constant reminder that I had never really had my soulmate to lose. I didn ’ t even know their name, where they lived, I ’ d never seen their face. They may as well have never existed to me. It was hard when people would see the missing right mark and look at me with pity. It was even harder when people would ask me “ Oh! So you found your soulmate!? ” and all I could say was no. Sometimes they just didn ’ t realise which mark they were looking at. I started making sure my wrist was always covered. It was three years after my soulmate ’ s death that I met Todd. I was sitting alone at my local coffee shop when he asked if he could sit with me. I told him I would love the company and we ended up talking for hours. I felt a shock of fear when my sleeve got caught on the edge on the table and he saw my wrist. I dreaded the look of pity that I knew he would give me. Instead he looked me in the eye and pulled up his own sleeve. “ Me too, ” he said as he laid his arm on the table. His right mark was missing, too. We got married in the spring on a day with beautiful weather and blooming flowers. It had been strange building a relationship without the marks to tell us whether it would work or not. But Todd was kind, gentle, and smart. He always seemed to know when he needed to make me laugh when I was feeling down, or if he should just hold me and let me grieve for that little missing mark. We did everything we could to make each other happy. We had three wonderful children. Each with both their marks fully intact. My oldest boy lost his left mark at the age of three when we moved to a new house and met the little girl next door. My middle child, a bright little firecracker of a girl lost her left mark when her soulmate ’ s car slid on ice and rear-ended hers. They were both fine. My youngest lost his right mark the day he lost his left. His soulmate came into the emergency room with a badge and a gunshot wound, it was the first time he had lost a patient. We all went on vacation to help", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0302", "text": "voice `` Let them all stay, it will settle itself'' When was that? A week ago? A year? Who tried to kill me? I try to open my eyes again, but the blinding lights force them closed again. `` Ty'' I manage to shove the mangled word through bloody lips before a cough racks my body, sending pain through every nerve. `` Calm down there cowboy'' I can hear Sam's smile through her words, the same she uses every time I start to get ahead of myself. `` Hey man, chill'' Eric is back `` Open your mouth'' I oblige and cool water flows over my lips and chin, into my nose but most importantly my mouth. The flow trickles to an end `` More'' I plead `` Nope, they said only one of those every hour, but I think 45 minutes will be just fine'' Eric says conspiratorially `` Don't want to hurt yourself there champ'' Sam again. Why are they all here? `` *The rule of three here still abides, two friends by your side a third hand does poison hide two with life to bequeath, third with steel to unsheathe*'' Who is that voice? Should I tell her what I've wanted to for these last long weeks. Can I get it out? I can try... `` Sam'' A cough rips through my lungs `` Who?'' Ty asks `` Sam, come here'' I repeat, swallowing the next spasm before it can start `` Hey man, are you ok? Its just us'' `` Yeah, you me and Ty'' Eric interjects `` They must have you on some strong shit'' Ty chuckles nervously in agreement. `` But Sam, I can here her'' I struggle through the sentence, words coming easier now. `` Do you know where you are?'' asks Eric Racking my brain to no avail I finally give in and admit `` no'' `` The hospital man, you've been here for weeks.'' Cold dread fills my body, and I force myself to open my eyes, the cold white fades to a warmer yellow and my two friends faces swim into view with a hard white background. `` Why'' A quiet rustling as my two friends try to put the last few weeks into words. Ty responds quietly `` Your tried to kill yourself man'' EDIT: Names are hard", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 478, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0303", "text": "`` Can you hook me up?'' I looked at the kid in front of me, he was, with a liberal guess, fifteen. But he was obviously resourceful, he managed to find me in this haunted city. `` Well, it depends on what you want.'' I said. `` I want a *discern. *'' *Discern*. Ah. That was an expensive item, because of the nature of it. You could rifle through anyone's head. It was also an extremely uncommon find. What did a fifteen year old want a discern for? `` Why?'' `` It's getting you money, you don't really need to know.'' He gripped his armrests and seemed extremely angry at the question. `` Hey, buddy. How about you cool your tone and answer the question.'' I said. Stupid children. They always underestimate while simultaneously overestimate the raw power of commands. `` Well, there's a girl, and I don't know if she likes me or not.'' He said, with a straight face. I laughed. Hard. I laughed so hard tears streamed down my face. I finally retained my composure and I looked up at the kid. He looked very unsettled. `` What are you willing to give me for it?'' I asked, at last. `` Well, my grandpa said he's willing to give up his, but you have to give him *overpower* too.'' The boy replied. `` What is his word?'' I said, wondering what could be so esoteric that his grandfather thought he could get two of such powerful commands. `` Enchant.'' `` Deal, bring him here and I'll do it.'' I said, greedily. Enchant was a big deal, especially for a salesman like myself. I've only seen three in the wild, and no one was willing to sell. This must be a special case. `` Hey, son.'' I said, before right before he walked out the door. `` Yeah?'' He asked, turning around. `` Why does your grandfather want the *overpower*, instead of *enchant*?'' `` He has cancer. He's hoping to *overpower* it.'' He said, and he left. I sat down and poured a drink. Today was a good day. Saving a life, getting *enchant*, only losing one of my two overpowers, and a discern. I loved being born with *transfer.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0304", "text": "EXIT.'' Another step forward. Another. Another. I was so close now, so close to being free from this hell. The tar gave way to mud, gave way to dirt, gave way to grass. I ran across the empty plane and stumbled to the wooden structure. EXIT. EXIT. I stumbled and collapsed at the heel of the door, panting in the molten air. My eyes scanned over the writing again, and again. There was something written below. EXIT. DOES NOT EXIST. My hand burned when it clasped the handle, and I screamed. I turned the handle but it would not budge. Again and again, I pounded on the door, tears pouring down and evaporating off of my face. What had I done? Why was I here? Why wouldn't this door open for me? It was my exit, the salvation for my innocent soul. I had been spared! I collapsed in the grass as it blackened into pitch. For a year I laid there, stoic and silent. When I slept, I dreamt of what was behind that door, when I woke, I'd turn the handle in hopes that it might open. Just like the tortured souls I'd passed along my way, I thought of my faults, regrets and sins. I was never good with people. I was never good to my wife. I was never good to my mistresses either. Maybe I was never good, period. Maybe that's why I was here. One day I awoke to the sound of music. For twenty five years, I hadn't heard a note, but now there was an entire symphony playing, building and rising in a grand crescendo from just a few inches beyond the door. My hand gripped the handle, and it did not burn. It opened for me. Beyond was a great light, the likes of which I'd never seen, even in my life before this. Pulling myself to my feet, I took a step forward into a shallow, cool pond. As I entered further the door shut behind me, leaving me standing in a river. I looked across at the others, all standing, looking back at me. Slowly, I made my approach. A small girl was the first to great me. `` Hello.'' She said. I replied the same. `` Where am I?'' I asked next. `` Where sinners go.'' `` What do you mean, where sinners go?", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0305", "text": "school. But I'm glad Mags has an outlet for her creativity.'' `` I'd love to see something she makes.'' He smiled. `` And how are you doing?'' `` I guess it's not as simple for me, just working most of the time, not really able to get out my creative side like I used to. Remember when we spent those two weeks of summer in that little villa, and I made the most beautiful books of pressed leaves and flowers?'' `` I remember, the smell of nature wafted around the house for days after.'' `` I'm sure I still have it somewhere, if I manage to look for it. But mostly I'm at work, Carl's got me doing a lot. I may be up for a promotion soon, which is good because Reid's school is not cheap. And I might have to help Mags buy some supplies, she mentioned a national competition she wants to enter that she found out about in class. So there's all that. Stace comes by twice a week to make sure everything's running smoothly, I thank her so much for that. Even if I don't always tell her.'' She paused. `` I'm sure she knows though.'' `` My sister cares so much about you all.'' `` It's just hard. Okay, I admit not everything is alright. My mom may need to get a wheelchair, her knees are not doing so well, and that means wheelchair-proofing the house, or putting her into a home. It's just a lot to handle. I simply wish my brother would be more helpful with all of this, you know? Instead of just the happy-go-lucky cool uncle.'' `` That's why I love you. You do so much for people.'' She stopped speaking, looked up at the sky, and breathed in a shaky breath. `` I just miss you so much. And I'm so angry. You should be here right now. It's been one year but I don't care. I need you. The kids need you. I-I-'' A sob racked her frame, but she breathed in deep again, looked straight ahead with dry eyes. `` I loved you.'' `` And I still love you.'' He said, emotion weighing down every word. `` I love you.'' She said. Standing up, she walked to the other side of the bench and gingerly let go of the flower petals that had just been in her clasped hands. They fell", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0306", "text": "I was just chilling in my room on reddit when the old guy came through the portal in my wardrobe, followed by a bunch of other old people. They were whispering amongst themselves, all looking quite nervous and stressed. The old guy I mentioned before, I guess he was their ringleader, approached me. `` Charlie,'' he stuttered, `` when was the last time you did your homework?'' It seemed an odd question, but I decided to humour the old man. `` I've never done any homework'' I replied. `` And when your parents ask you to do chores; do you do them?'' More odd questions, but whatever. `` Never,'' I answered, `` what's this about?'' the question seeped out of my lips, a product of mere conversation rather than actual curiosity. `` A great sorceror has enslaved our people. We, the resistance, have been attempting to overthrow his power for many years, but his castle holds mysterious powers; only one person and the sorceror may be inside at any one time. Certainly we have strong fighters and powerful mages, but these are all useless against him, for you see; he has mind control powers! Everyone who casts their gaze upon him falls under his spell and becomes his slave, obeying his every will. But you, Charlie, have never done a thing you have been told to do in your life. We believe that only you have the willpower to resist his invasive magics! You must aid us, you must enter the castle and kill the sorcerer!'' It was a bit of a sob-story, really. The old man looked distressed, so maybe it was true. So I feigned interest, looked like I was contemplating it. But then I said, `` Nah, can't be bothered really.'' This old man wasn't gon na boss me around. Nobody tells me what to do. He didn't even say please. I don't do nothin' for nobody, and I'm not gon na make a start with this guy. Now he must have read my mind or something, because at this point the old man went under a transformation; his wrinkles faded, his beard dissolved, his hair grew shorter and thicker. I didn't really care, but it stirred up some discomfort with his party. `` The sorcerer!'' they gasped simultaneously. He let out one of those stereotypical evil laughs, but I'm not", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0307", "text": "Achim. Achim. Achim. Over and over this word replays in his mind. He doesn't know what it means, in fact he can't even think about how weird it is that that's the only word he knows, it's just a feeling of a void; a void that encompasses his whole being, something that should be there but isn't. Eventually a feeling of familiarity settles over him. He is Achim, that's for sure. With that knowledge he opens his eyes only to immediately close them as something blinding causes his body to react instinctively. What is this feeling? He has no way to describe it, no concept of color or descriptive language, language at all for that matter. In the confusion which followed he discovered he was more than just mind and eyeballs. He discovered he had hands, arms, legs, a torso and a head on top of that, none of which he named. He used his new found appendages and covered his eyes as he slowly opened them. Whatever caused him pain before was still there but his body didn't react as before and he was able to look around. An overwhelming onselot of images rushed in, threatening to overpower him, his eyes instantly shut and his hands pushed outward. He felt a rush leave his hands. Curiously he opened his eyes once more, the world around him didn't come in as strongly, everything was dimmed to a level which didn't hurt his mind. A vast forest surrounded him. He smiled, even if it was dull, and a sound escaped him. Jumping at his own laughter he pondered at it with wonder, laughing again and again at the own sounds coming out of his mouth. Eventually the world around him returned to its normal radiance, colors trickled in and in the presence of such beauty tears welled in his eyes. Oranges, reds, greens, the many colors of fall radoated within him and caused a warmth to flow from within him. Suddenly he noticed a noise, voices in the distance, getting louder and louder. It sounded similar to his laughter and he smiled as a feeling of anticipation welled inside him. Turning in the direction of the sound he saw figures getting taller as they grew louder. `` Fulgur''!!!! That word be louder than the rest startled him, but not as much as the blinding light which sprung forth from one of the figures, racing towards him", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0308", "text": "dispersion once you clear a klick off the bow. Skull, you have tail-end Charlie.'' Her second-in-command rogered up without complaint. Keller toggled the last of the pre-flight hard switches and rolled her release clamps to their just final setting. *What the hell did they find on Io to get the Sino-Ruski Cooperative so hot? Dick-measuring contests never reach beyond the Belt. * The amber ready-light spectrum shifted to green, pulling her from her thoughts. Heavy hydraulics, insulated from the freezing temperatures of space opened the maw of her fighter bay. The oxygen had already been sucked clean ten minutes past. Valkyrie warmed her main engines as the docking clamps pushed her out into the hard vacuum. She watched the proximity sensor cycle up to at least 150 meters before she warmed up the SF-18 Space Hornet II's engines up to ten percent. She felt microgravity as the thrust pushed her back into her acceleration couch. Her padded gloves worked the thrust lever up slowly as her HUD started collecting flight data. Once she was at a safe distance from the *CSF-17 USS Eisenhower*, she kicked the engines into full gear and pulled a tight arc toward the bow of the kilometer long space carrier. To her right and left the remaining ten Hornets formed two elongated diamonds with her at the lead and Major Roy `` Skull'' Folker forming the tail of an even larger diamond comprised of their smaller formations. Keller felt a small twang in her gut, this was only her second flight as the lead dog. *If Lieutenant Colonel Wesser hadn't broken his arm in that zero-g racket ball game... Yet, here I am, leading the eleven remaining Marines of Black Knight squadron of the 15th Marine Expeditionary Space Force, hopefully not to make a MES'F things. * She held back a soft chuckle over her bad acronym joke as she double checked everyone's position in the formation. `` Spook, pull in tighter, you're drifting.'' Lieutenant Yasif `` Spook'' Farook responded with a hasty, `` Roger that, Ma'am.'' before pulling his fighter back into perfect formation. They cruised ahead of the carrier, putting 10,000 kilometers between home and the enemy. `` All, victors, pump your breaks and hold here.'' Her long-range radar showed that the *Xian III* had already launched her compliment of twenty MIG-560. They were", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0309", "text": "- So, what happened? Well, I'm out chilling on my patio. Feet in the paddling pool, couple of beers and that fucking great new album Joey recommended on the speakers. Suddenly some bloke runs up, panting and sweating. To be fair it was fucking warm that day, but he looked pathetic. He was whimpering and moaning that someone was trying to kill him.'There's something off here', I thought to myself,'he's either nuts or deserved what's coming to him'. There was something fishy about the man, a guilty, awkward look to him. 'Calm down mate, what's the problem?' I say. 'Hide me, hide me, he's coming', the guy goes, all high pitched and nervy. By now I'm suspicious as fuck and there's no way I'm hiding this slug of a man. And then, just as I'm about to tell him to get to fuck, Joey comes legging it round the corner and down my path. 'Fucking peado cunt!' He yells. Bloke tries to run but I trip him over. Gave him a right good boot. Instinct, right. Believe my man Joss before even speaking to him. And then, before I can ask even ask what's going on, Joey has hit the guy in the temple with this fucking spade. Sideways on, like. I've got ta be honest, I looked away but I do n't think he stopped hitting him for a while. What you expect the man to do though? This man was leeching on his 12 year old son. The man's a brute. I apologise for my language, but I say it as I see it. Joey's a good man, and you've already proved the guy was grooming his son. Self defence, innit. - No more questions your honour.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 385, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0310", "text": "Weakly, I raised my head from the ground. I opened my sand-encrusted eyes and looked right, only to behold the sight of sand. I turned my head slowly to the left, hoping beyond hope that I would see something, anything, that wasn't sand. Alas, to my left stretched the sea of beige, unbroken. Slowly, I came to the realisation that I was actually buried in The fucking stuff from the neck down. Then I remembered the sandstorm. We had seen it coming miles off, but there was nowhere to hide, nowhere to run. There were five of us remaining at the time from the original twenty. Twenty men and women sent to follow the obelisk, and learn what secrets it held. We had found this dune, but it wasn't steep nor tall enough to protect us. I suppose the other four were dead now. The sand wasn't shifting. No movement. No life. `` Where ith th wadder?'' I muttered to myself, my tongue thick and swollen from dehydration, mangling my words. I dug myself out from under the sand, and searched for my canteen. There it was, at my waist, but empty. *I guess I've drank my last*. I thought to myself remorsefully. Shit, what would I not give for even a drop of water to soothe my cracking lips, and return the moisture to my aching tongue. *I suppose I might as well climb this dune, see what's around me, and where the obelisk is* I wasn't prepared for what I saw at the top of the dune. It was right there! Due west, maybe 2 hours of walking. If I only had some water, I could even make it there. All around me, maybe a few days distant, there were cities, massive skyscrapers broke through the endless blue. *I have to make it* I thought. There may be people from the cities there! They could save me! I have to make it! I will run! I started running, but my weakened legs got ahead of me. I felt my left knee buckle and I collapsed, tumbling down to the foot of the dune. When I looked right and then left, I saw sand. No cities, just the godforsaken sand. Hallucinations, all of it. The cities, the obelisk", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0311", "text": "To drown in blood is a terrifying prospect. Vlad watched the storage tank shake left and right as the boy inside shook helplessly against his death. The tank was made of pure bronze and hung vertically from the ceiling. It was n't see-through, though Vlad could imagine what it was like to die in there very well. He had done it himself, after all. The tank stopped rattling. The middle-aged man waited patiently, arms folded. It was a common trick to stop struggling in an attempt to appear you've died, when in reality you wait for the tank to open. Another shake, weaker than before. Vlad smiled. It was good, the fight in the boy. It meant he would make a great addition to the ranks. He walked over and stepped on the footholds, opening the top latch of the tank. He reached one arm in and grabbed the boy, pulling him out with ease. The limp body was barely 100 pounds, even soaking wet with blood. Vlad put the boy down and extended his right finger-nail into a claw. He aimed at the boy's left breast and thrust his arm forward. A thin tube-like hole brought air to his heart. The boy's eyes snapped open, now yellow, and he took a deep breath, though honestly, it was unnecessary. Breathing was a tough habit to break. `` Welcome,'' Vlad said with a broad smile. `` Welcome to the Brotherhood.'' The boy said nothing, instead looking around in wild movements of the pupil. `` Thirsty?'' Vlad asked, holding out a pouch of blood. The boy took it hungrily and ripped it open, not caring for any of the sweet liquid spilled. Yes, Vlad thought, he would make a *great* addition.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 355, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0312", "text": "towels and my sponge and thoroughly scrubbed both her feet and the floor free of the tropical debris. She did it vigorously, like she was warding off all remains of Satan's blood or something. I was completely silent the whole time, watching her go through the process. `` It all started with a mutation signal being sent out to all pineapples across the Earth,'' she said after we were seated. `` It caused the enzymes in pineapples to go all haywire. You know how pineapple's really sour?'' `` Yeah,'' I said, still unsure of how I should be reacting. `` Well, that's because the juices in pineapples contain enzymes like the ones in our stomachs. So when you eat one, it's also eating you.'' I nodded in understanding. `` Thing is, the mutation strengthened those enzymes about a thousand-fold. Now just touching a slice of pineapple allows the thing to devour you whole. And because of the mutation, the pineapples' metabolism also evolved and allowed them to merge our DNA with their own.'' I thought for a second. `` Wait, you don't mean...'' Emily stared me dead in the eyes. `` It's exactly what you're thinking. They became intelligent, self-aware pineapple humanoids.'' I wanted to laugh at the idea of a fucking pineapple with arms and legs, but the spooky vibe Emily gave it made me shiver instead. `` By the time it was broadcast internationally, it was already too late. The Prickly Ones, as they like to be called, declared war on human civilization. Since they were spread all over the world and all over towns and cities, they quickly won. What remained of humanity fled to the Arctic, since the Prickly Ones hadn't adjusted to such extreme cold yet. But they will eventually.'' My head was spinning. `` This is insane. You said this all started'cause someone sent out a signal to start the mutation. Who would do that?'' Emily shook her head. `` That isn't important, and it's too late to go searching for them now. After seeing it with my own eyes, I traveled back to the past so I could stop this mess.'' Well, now this was starting to make sense to me. Just a little. `` Oh, really? And what's your plan?'' `` We have to inform people right away. Get this info on the news, Twitter, Facebook, I don't care", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0313", "text": "of a celebrity. That gained the attention of Roblox Penitentiary - a prison known for holding some of the most violent and disturbed criminals in the Milky Way. They were willing to take him in for a reduced sentence. He would become the first human convict to ever be in an intergalactic prison. Instead of a triple life sentence in a facility approved by VeriCorp, Dave was given ten years in what was regarded by many as the most dangerous high-security prison in the galaxy. The fact that inmates barely even came into contact with each other didn't stop the alarming amount of murders that happened within these walls. VeriCorp didn't expect him to see the light of day. Dave sighed. He should be more afraid. It'd be a miracle if he even survived the week. But he felt a strange sense of peace. He looked towards his robot companion. `` Tell me the stock value of Veritas Corporation right now.'' It smiled. `` Yes, Dave. VeriCorp is priced at 17893.48.'' They had already decreased by half a percent while he'd been incarcerated. Investors were already starting to pull out. `` What about the end of the week?'' Dave folded his arms in satisfaction. `` They are expected to close out at 17623.34, which would be the worst closing in about 15 years.'' `` Thank you. And uh... *cell companion? *'' Dave had to assign a name for that thing. `` Yes, Dave?'' `` I think I'm ready for my dinner now.'' `` Excellent. I'm glad your appetite has returned!'' The robot moved quickly along the walls to his bedside. Dave took the packet. He held up the food package, as if giving a toast. *To VeriCorp's demise, * he thought. Dave ripped open the bag, and swallowed the processed paste. He fought back the urge to gag. Ten more years - just ten more years.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 397, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0314", "text": "she became, and with the aging, came the changing of her facial features. One year, it was a young woman who had performed a miracle in bringing a girl who had been murdered by a pedophile back from the death, and the next year, it was an elderly woman, resurrecting a child who died from an peanut allergy. It was hard to keep track of who was doing the miracles. Claire became Elanor, Elanor became Ruth, and Ruth became Gracie, and so on and so forth. Soon, she was just picking names from her favorite books. *** Her last wasn't a child. No, for her last miracle, Claire brought back a mother who died during childbirth. She had never brought back an adult before. Never even thought about it. She had dealt with dead parents before, but never once did she pull one out from the clutches of the Reaper. As she laid her hand between the woman's cold bosom, Claire realized the reason she was doing it this time, was simply because she was tired. She felt the last of her life escape her through the tips of her fingers, and Claire collapsed in the silent room. In her mind's eye, she saw the Reaper come for her, still smiling the same smile from the day she performed her first miracle, but this time, Claire smiled back. *You take plenty from this world, I know you do, but it must sting to know I took some back from you. *", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 300, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0315", "text": ",'' said Ricky, `` is this supposed to be here?'' There was something wrong with that cart. Maybe it was how the sounds of the forest sounded eerily distant once we saw it. Maybe it was how the paint looked clean, like none of the animals had touched it. Maybe it was how all the shades were open in every room. But Ricky and I knew right then, we weren't exploring any further, we were going back to camp immediately, and we weren't telling anyone about this place. *** They didn't find Carl until the next morning. He was lying by the lakeside, with huge cuts all over his face. The adults wouldn't let us see him, they just carried him to the cabins a couple of miles down the road where doctors could take care of him. He'd dove into the lake from a tree branch, they told us. None of the kids bought it. `` He hurt himself using the knife,'' said a kid named Andrew, `` I know he snuck out last night to practice with it.'' `` He didn't have a knife,'' said Ricky. `` Then what? How'd he cut his face so bad? On branches?'' `` He went into the train,'' said a quiet kid from the back. He was new to the troop, and he looked out of place with an oversized hoodie despite how warm it was outside. `` Who are you?'' I asked. `` Ben,'' he answered. Then after an awkward silence, he pulled a gameboy out of his pocket. `` What train?'' asked Andrew, curious. `` Ricky and I saw it earlier,'' I said, `` It's pretty freaky though, I don't want to go back.'' `` Wait,'' said Ben, `` you're scared of that thing? It's just an abandoned car.'' `` Yeah well...'' I stammered. `` Well are you going to show it to me or not?'' interrupted Andrew. Ben led the way. Even in the daylight the car freaked me out. Why would it just be sitting there, in the middle of the tracks. If another train came by wouldn't there be a collision? Train cars are valuable you don't just leave them behind. It didn't make any sense, and there was something else I just couldn't place. Something that made my hair stand on end every time I saw it. `` See?'' said Ben, `` not", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 490, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0316", "text": "& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Ardinius the Magnificent plucked at his silken robes, and fixed a neutral expression on his face. *Why did it have to be an arrowhead? * He thought, as he watched the elvish instructor demonstrate the spell he needed to learn for his quest. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; **Because he is the only one who knew the spell. Stop acting like a racist bigot and learn. ** & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; *Shut. Up. * He told the voice in his head. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Sirrah, you seem distracted,'' said the Elvish spellmaster. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Ardinius gritted his teeth, and in a tightly controlled tone, he said. `` I am fine, arr-'' He cut himself off, then continued, `` Spellmaster.'' *If I didn't need this spell I'd never let this bloody arrowhead talk down to me. * & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; **He *is* your superior. ** & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; *I thought I told you to shut up! * & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; **I can not be silenced. ** & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; *I'll kill the man who 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0317", "text": "I could no longer live in a land where I survived under constant fear for my daughter and wife. Boko Haram was a ruthless band of savages. I would not let them take my family the way they had taken so many others. The moment I had the necessary money to move to America with my entire family I did it. To `` make a long story short'' as some say we made it to America. New York to be specific. Life here was very different. I found a job cleaning dishes and my wife a job in a laundromat. We were getting by and while Queens had its own dangers it was not Nigeria. I lived like a normal immigrant in America and enjoyed the freedom and security of not hearing gunfire constantly. Little did I know that July fourth is a day celebrated with the sound of gunfire. On July fourth my family and myself went east into Nassau County on Long Island. Every month or so we would take a Saturday to enjoy ourselves. After getting off the train we walked around a town. We suddenly heard a loud siren and people's screams. We rushed down streets with fear in our eyes until we saw a large crowd of people all dressed in red or white or blue. Upon a closer look I could see these people were happy. We approached the crowd and could see people waving flags and clapping and yelling. On the street they were on were fire trucks rolling by with drivers waving and sounding the sirens. There were flags everywhere. People waved them, the hung from poles, they were attached to vehicles. `` Would you like to get a closer look?'' A older man said to me suddenly. `` Come on,'' He motioned to my family and got us to the front. This man was white with gray hair and a mustache. He wore a cap with an American flag on it. Above it said `` US ARMY'' and below the flag: `` VIETNAM VETERAN.'' We walked to the front and watched as fire engines drove by. We saw police officers march by. We saw veterans walk along. Flags with all of them. A woman tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to her. `` Flag?'' She handed me and my family all flags and kept walking the crowd handing them out. I waved it. I laughed and cheered. But finally my curiosity got the best of me and I felt the need to ask a question of the older man. `` Does this happen every weekend here", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0318", "text": "I sat at my desk, racking my brain to find who could have possibly discovered the truth behind the death of Phillip Mercer, the heir to one of the most powerful petroleum companies in the world. The job was done without a scrap of evidence, I made sure of that much. It simply made no sense, every living soul that knew I killed Mercer were the very ones that orchestrated it. I may not know who this mysterious person is but I do know that I will answer their question with a bullet to the brain. It was nearly 3:00 AM when I heard muffled footsteps down the hallway. I reached for the silenced 9MM pistol in my bag, aiming for the only entrance to my corner office. The doorknob began to turn as I steadied my aim. Sweat was trickling down my spine, my heart pounding as if I were about to come face to face with the devil himself. The second it took for the door to open felt like an eternity, but I would have rather endured that second of agonizing torment for the rest of my life then to meet the eyes of Phillip Mercer when the door opened. His face was covered in scar tissue, leaving it almost unrecognizable. It was the eyes that were the giveaway. The look in his eyes was the same as the night I thought I killed him. There was a look of superiority in them, as if to let me know I would never be capable of surpassing him in any way. `` There is no way, you should be dead!'' were the only words I was capable of mustering. `` For all intensive purposes I still am, thanks to you'' he replied with an odd sense of calm in his voice. `` Will you at least give me the courtesy of an answer now that I am here? God knows I have been to the depths of hell and back in these last 5 years so surely you can give me that. I will answer any questions you have after.'' I recounted the entire tale that crossed our two paths on that fateful night 5 years ago. I told him how I was approached by a man that worked for Prism International, the most powerful energy corporation in the world. Prism stood to gain billions from the collapse of Mercer Petroleum, giving them an even tighter stranglehold on the energy market. The terms were simple enough, kill Phillip Mercer or have everyone I love systematically killed. The choice was made for me. My military background coupled with", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0319", "text": "the troubled man ’ s past. It took some time, but as soon as the knight opened his eyes and saw me, he continued as if no time had passed since our last honest conversation. Once again, I listened to the quiet and trembling confession of this tormented soul. Of course, after stealing Sir Ronald ’ s possessions, Tristan did not return to the order, instead spreading his lies among the common folk of small cities and villages. However, the young man did not abandon his training. Even though he no longer had a mentor, Tristan did all he could to improve. At least on some level the fake knight still recognized his weakness, but it was not enough to dispel the illusion he so desperately clung onto. Presenting himself as a travelling knight on a holy mission, Tristan went from town to town taking jobs, earning gold and fame. Although quite a few of these ended in failures, moving fast and changing names even faster allowed the young man to mostly keep out of trouble. In time he became competent, although not great, with a sword and earned himself a mixed reputation. Depending on the name and city, he was a true hero, a charlatan, or in most cases just an eccentric traveller. All of this fuelled Tristan ’ s mania immensely. Recognition, of any kind, was a key component in the plot he laid out for himself. Somewhere inside that armour was still a small boy, who wanted beyond all a story of heroic knights fighting against evil. Tristan fell asleep before he could finish his tale, so I was one again left waiting for a new opportunity. To someone less observant the picture might have looked clear at that point: as a part of his quest, the self-proclaimed knight decided to go to Vilam and battle the vile forces of The Old Forest. However, that did not explain Tristan ’ s downright demented reaction to the image of a little girl, and even that aside there was still something off about how firmly he tried to block out these memories. I got the answers to all of my questions at the end of Tristan ’ s year. Through luck, acquired skill, or maybe even some less noble means, he had survived the trials of the forest and was ready to departure. When Tristan walked into my abbey, he was not unstable like during our previous conversations. His voice was more humble and the knight ’ s posture seemed less grandiose, but this was not the same despaired lun", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0320", "text": "across from Prime. He raised an eyebrow. Prime couldn't raise just one eyebrow, had 2 actually practiced that? `` He's at the apartment.'' Prime's voice wasn't flat, not totally. But it was almost conversational, matter of fact. `` But what about Cynthia?'' 4 blurted this out, not really having shifted down from indignant shock. Not having picked up that neither Prime nor 2 were indignant now. `` He says he made it all right. I don't know how. But if any of us...'' Prime trailed off there. If any of them could make it right with Cynthia, could unring the bell of the terrible things he'd said to her, if any of them could, it was 3. Did that mean he could go back? `` We can't.'' 2 looked right through Prime. Right into the spot he knew Prime was heading for. Prime hated him for it, and knew he was right all the same. `` No, I guess not.'' Silence stretched out for a minute, then two. It was 10:57PM. `` Listen, the new apartments... Let's look in another city. Somewhere we won't likely see Cynthia, or run into 3.'' Prime put his hand on 4's shoulder, to show appreciation for his efforts, and apology for their being wasted. It was also the first part of the merging process. `` Sure, sure.'' 4 sounded distracted, almost dreamy. He never sounded like that outside merging, but maybe it was his chance to let go. 2 reached across the small coffee table, and took Prime's hand. He squeezed a bit, supportively. Maybe merging was about letting go. 2 would never offer that kind of connection otherwise. As the dopplegangers went slack, and Prime felt his arms tingle and then burn with the energy and essence of them, he thought about 3. And about 5. They'd found someone, someone they belonged to, even more than they belonged to him. Just before he felt the warmth of merging crest to a peak, and the sense of being more complete than just a moment before, he felt a pang of dread. What if they all left him? What if he would be the only one left, alone?", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 473, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0321", "text": "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. Weight and thrust. The rapiers are ridiculously light, moreso underwater. The ADS doesn't permit the greatest degree of movement so I need something that is quick and effective. I hold them in place with my left hand and drive the rapier through the eye socket, ear, or the back of the head. It makes very little mess. As for their origin, I do believe they were taken from the Tower of London. Nice pieces of kit. The suit is the only operational one this side of Morocco, don't know where that came from, but there're still some American markings on it. Best not to think too hard about who pikeyed who's gear.' I'd never spoken to someone about it. It's bloody lunacy now that I give it some thought. 'Well. Don't knock it if it works, hey? Alright, next question. Why?' 'Why do I do what I do?' I asked and got a nod in response,'I was asked to. They needed someone brave enough to get into this suit with zero training or experience, not even a manual, and dive to the 93m sea bed and do some damage. Oil rigs, whilst massive, degrade more quickly than the life span of a quisling. They need constant repairs, especially at the foundation. We've got the expertise and gear for that, the rigs were untouched from breakout to today because the gents on the rigs were isolated. Some careful rationing and a couple of samaritans with boats and men who were earning danger pay became the safest in the world. I guard that expertise, by myself. I walk up and down the seabed for hours stabbing ex-people in the face", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0322", "text": "I broke through the doors to his office. His back was to me. He still wore a cape, but now one of white and gold instead of black and red. He turned slowly, unsurprised, it seemed, at my violent intrusion. He gazed at my face and smiled. `` In a way,'' Emperor Streedle said, `` I'm shocked it took you this long to come find me.'' `` When you trap a man, however superhuman he might be, in a block of solid imperturbium, and fire him off at lightspeed towards the emptiest corner of the known universe, it will take him a while to break out, get his bearings, and get back to you.'' `` Indeed,'' he said, nodding, smiling. `` I suppose that would be a bit of a pickle to break free of.'' I was trembling: not out of fear, but out of an eruption and overflow of emotion. My memories were flowing up from the deepest, darkest reaches of my spirit, and becoming images in my mind. The bodies, hundreds of thousands of bodies, charred and mangled, sprawled over the city streets and squares. The whole system of Pastor, with four inhabited planets, billions of lives, of souls, being sucked into a swirling black vortex. Visions of genocides in progress; flashes of their aftermaths. All because of him. This monster. This heartless villain. I clenched my teeth as I spoke: `` You might have united the Six Leagues under your command. I saw the banners, the posters, the flags: bearing your face, bearing your insignia, that symbol more loathsome to me than anything else I can bring to mind. And I can bring loathsome things to mind. The ignorant citizens who live under your command, in this illusion of a land of milk and honey, built on a graveyard, built on an infamy, a villainy so wretched, so dastardly it is unspeakable, they might wave your flag, bear your symbol, and praise you. But I -- I witnessed the bloodshed and destruction waged under that shape. I know the horrors your birthed into this world. I --'' `` Enough,'' he said calmly, like a grandfather, waving at me to stop. `` Enough. I know. I know those were horrible things that I did. I know that I am beyond repentance --'' `` Repentance", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0323", "text": "you at least give me the courtesy of an answer now that I am here? God knows I have been to the depths of hell and back in these last 5 years so surely you can give me that. I will answer any questions you have after.'' I recounted the entire tale that crossed our two paths on that fateful night 5 years ago. I told him how I was approached by a man that worked for Prism International, the most powerful energy corporation in the world. Prism stood to gain billions from the collapse of Mercer Petroleum, giving them an even tighter stranglehold on the energy market. The terms were simple enough, kill Phillip Mercer or have everyone I love systematically killed. The choice was made for me. My military background coupled with the fact I helped my step-father design the Mercer home made me the obvious choice for the job no doubt. From there I told him how I was able to bypass the security of his mansion because I helped design it. `` What it boils down too is your life meant less to me then those of my loved ones. The part I don't understand though is how your still alive! I shot you in the head, then as you collapsed you knocked over a candle, starting a fire that destroyed your home.'' `` I survived by nothing more then luck. Your bullet went through the side of my jaw, lodging itself in the cheek region of my skull. The heat of the fire brought me surging back to consciousness allowing me to escape but not without being badly burned. The thought of revenge has been the only force driving me to stay alive. I have feared that you might have been merely a pawn being controlled by Prism so that they could buy up my fathers company. But dammit would have been so much easier to enact my revenge if it had simply been you though. But now that I know my worst fears have been realized I at least know what I am up against.'' `` You can't possibly think you could take down Prism single handed!'' `` I won't have to do it alone because your going to help me.'' He said with his eyes glimmering with more determination than superiority. It was the kind of look that was impossible to refuse.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 444, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0324", "text": "The night air formed ice to my face as puffs of smoke bellowed out from my mouth. The snow fell around me making a hushing sound, a quiet and breeze. The night sky glowed in the light of the cars and buildings that littered the city that was accompanied by the constant hum of the traffic buzzing from all directions. I walked down the street towards the city ’ s park with the sounds of crunching under my feet. This is where I came to relaxed myself when things got tense, when life got hard, and I needed to do something, anything to distract myself. Making my way over to the park's bench, the movement of something on it caught my attention. I walked a bit closer, examining the dark brown fabric as it moved up and down slowly. It was a person. “ Hello? ” I whispered, as to not startle him. He groaned while he pushed himself up to face me, leaning on his right shoulder. The face of the man was that of an old man grafted onto the body of someone younger. He looked worn before his days. “ Please don ’ t report me. ” He spoke quietly, he sat up wrapping the small blanket around him even tighter than I thought was possible. Pushing my hair behind my ear, I unzipped my coat placed it around my shoulders and sitting down beside him. “ I won ’ t. ” We sat and watch the snow fall collecting itself and growing more than an inch higher than it had been when I arrived. Our breaths slowly fell into rhythm with the sounds that echoed throughout the city A paced sound that grew and shrank with the passing of each car. “ Come back to my place. ” I said breaking the silence between us, his ears face had started to redden and his body looked stiff. He only stared back. “ It ’ s warm, and I have a spare bedroom you could use. If you don ’ t like it, you don ’ t have to stay. ” There was something in eyes. Something of a look of wonder, or hope, or sadness. He nodded, and stood, all without saying a word. The trip seemed far shorter than the trip there, passing screaming vendors and flashing lights until we arrived at my house. The inside of the house fiercely juxtaposed the outside, dim and quiet and greeted us with a heat that felt unnatural as we entered. “ There ’ s a washroom down there. ”", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0325", "text": "I woke up and stretched in my bed. Anther glorious day. I got up, adjusted myself, and walked off towards the kitchen to get breakfast. But everything out here was wrong. Someone had moved part of my house around. Where was I? What happened? Suddenly I felt a warm arm around my shoulders and a nice-looking woman with a kind voice asked if I wanted some breakfast. Of course I did. What else would I want at this time of day. I glanced at the clock but the hands seemed off. I couldn't quite make out whether the short hand was pointing at the 3 or I don't know. I ignored it and walked on. I walked in, ready to order. I wanted, that one food, uhm, what was its name again? They gave me a tray and it looked more like lunch food to me even though they were calling it dinner but whatever. When in Rome, right? I sat down and started eating and Darryn happened to come sit down by me. I smiled at him and reached over to pat him on the shoulder and he smiled back. We talked for a little while about the meal, and he told me that he had been promoted at work and I told him how happy I was for him. Then he got up to leave and I said goodbye to him and he looked a little puzzled. `` I'm your son,'' he said, `` Andres. My father Darryn died ten years ago.'' I immediately felt a great feeling of shame and sadness come over me. It was so terrible that Darryn had lost his job and I said as much to him, that I was so sorry he'd just lost his job but that we could get through it. Darryn looked sad too but I knew things would get better eventually. He'd find another job. He gave me a hug before he turned to go. Then I went back to my room, although I got a little lost on the way. I did see a group of three women with kind voices though, so I went to ask them. `` I'm a little lost,'' I said. `` Can you help me find my room?'' A man walked up and the women waved him over, `` She's lost,'' they said. He smiled broadly and looked at me. `` Hi, Lost, my name is Bart.'' I smiled back at him. His voice was so nice. `` I'm lost, do you know", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0326", "text": "( ( Apologies if this is a shitty representation. ) ) -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- What is this place? The curtains, the carpet, this tv set, this coffee table, this couch... Oh. It ’ s my house. My old house, when I was a kid. I go to step outside of the living room, but it just sort of... fades away. I turn back, and see myself, my old self, sitting on the couch watching TV. I slowly walk over to him, he does n't give me more than a glance, before going back to watching the TV. I can ’ t make out what he ’ s watching- some cartoon. I used to enjoy sitting down and watching cartoons. I place myself on the couch next to him, watching the blur on the TV in silence. ‘ Who are you? ’ he asks, abruptly, but not unexpectedly. He doesn ’ t tear his eyes away from the TV. ‘ I ’ m you... ’ I murmur, half to him, half to myself. I too, don ’ t look away from the TV. ‘ Huh. ’ he says, quickly taking the idea in. ‘ I get pretty skinny? ’ he says. ‘ Yeah... sorry. ’ I weakly apologise. He makes a slight movement of the head. I look over and see him now staring at his feet. He looks as if he ’ s about to cry. ‘ So I don ’ t get out, huh? I end up like my brothers? ’ He asks, choking back the tears. I feel my lip tremble and my eyes start to burn, and I can only nod my head, because if I say something, I ’ d probably start weeping. My face suddenly feels cold and I rub my face- I ’ m lying on my side in my bathroom, next to the toilet, my kit spread out in front of me, and the hallucination still fresh in my mind. I can only ball up in the corner and cry silently.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 424, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0327", "text": "`` It is time now, father. I must depart on my quest to fulfill my holy greatness,'' said James as he stood in the doorway, covered in white flowing robes as gentle winds beckoned his body to free itself of the threshold. His father, balding and middle aged barely looked up from the comfy chair as his son stood with the holy light blasting from behind his head. `` On this day, I shall bring onto the world a new age of joy, but it will come at the cost of tremendous strife. What say you, father? What shall I do to temper the world's terror as this new age dawns?'' His father cleared his throat a little as he folded the newspaper over and saw an advertisement for a lawnmower he wanted. Most people did n't read the newspaper anymore, but Milton was old-school. He glanced at James above the rims of his glasses and then went back to the paper. `` Well, you probably should n't talk like that if you want people to take you seriously.'' James blinked. He did n't know what to say. `` Is that... is that it, my father? I go forth to usher in a new age, have you nothing else to give unto me before I depart?'' `` That's what I'm talking about. No one says unto and go forth anymore, James. I mean, your mother and I put up with it... because, well because you're our son, but... but you probably should put a lid on that,'' Milton elaborated. `` Father, please- I love you so greatly, impart unto me a greater word of wisdom before-'' `` And do n't go around telling people you love them,'' Milton cut in, dropping the newspaper now. `` People do n't want to be told by random strangers that they're loved. You'll- you'll end up in the loony bin.'' James stood speechless. Milton watched him for a second and then turned on the TV and started watching the football game. `` Well... I guess I'll just go then,'' James shrugged. Milton nodded halfheartedly as he turned up the volume. `` I'm- I'm off now. I'm off to change the entire world. So... uh, so goodbye!'' `` Alright, goodbye James,'' Milton mumbled. James looked around, unsure of what else to say and closed the door silently, as to not disrupt his father's beloved football game.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0328", "text": "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. Large palm trees swayed in a gentle breeze behind it. Birds chirped and played in the dense jungle in front of him. He stood and brushed the sand from his clothes. I made it. I ’ m alive! His heart leapt into his throat as he choked back tears of joy. He felt shame that he was happy he was alive and his crew was not. A song drifted on the breeze. He turned his head toward the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He had not seen her before but a woman sat at the edge of the beach. Her long legs resting in a shallow pool. He stumbled toward her. Her wonderful song filled his mind. Mark ’ s eyes focused on her long dark hair that flowed down her bare back. His hand gently reached out and touched her shoulder. The singing stopped and she slowly turned toward Mark. Her dark, black eyes focused on him. She smiled revealing long black needle like fangs. He screamed as her long claws tore into him. The sand hungrily soaked up his blood as she consumed his body. -- - Check out /r/Written4reddit if you enjoyed this!", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 382, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0329", "text": "A friend of mine said it was something like a mushroom trip or a lucid dream, and you had to skip a night of sleep for it to work. I had skipped the night of sleep like they said I needed to, truth be told, I had skipped two nights. With the help of Starbucks I was still up. We drove up to his dad's cabin. They were cheering and pushing me up towards the door. My friend came in the cabin with me, where it was pitch black, save for two candles. The walls were draped with black felt, so it felt like we stood in the black of space. Up above the candles there was a large mirror, and beneath it, closer to us, was a recliner. Here it was quiet, here it was warm, here was another place. I took my place in the recliner, my friend sat somewhere unseen behind me. He told me to stare into the mirror and instructed me to keep speaking, and not to stop. It started out pretty innocuous, the candles were very dim, even for candles, so i couldn't see anything in the mirror, except for the candle's reflection in my own eyes, tiny glittering lights dancing in the dark. I mentioned that, how profoundly comfortable the chair was, and how I could hear his pencil on the paper. Focusing on the tiny twin glints of light in the mirror, my voice became more distant, as if far away in a tunnel, the sound of my friend's writing was not noticeable, and even the chair felt like it had fallen away, and I was floating in the black nothingness of space. Even the aches of sleep deprivation had evaporated somewhere else. The universe consisted of me, the darkness, and the light, they were singular now. -- - The light, it was the light, the light people always talk about. The light was the light at the end of the tunnel, the proverbial light for the dead. It took what felt like hours, but it was much nearer now, nearly engulfing me. My grandmother was here, her warm smile, now years vacant from my life. Its warmth filled me with relief and contentment I had not known for too long. Her son, my uncle, was there too. Everyone gone was there, and they welcomed me warmly, and with love. as I approached, they walked backwards, beckoning me into the light. Clouds rolled at their feet,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0330", "text": "When I was a child, I would always dream that I had wings and I would fly all over the town. I always told my parents that I am a superhero and they would pat me on the head with smiles. The wonderful exhiliration of jumping off the roof of our house and flying off made me want to sleep all day. Sometimes I would dream that I have a friend who will fly with me and he always bring me fighting in the streets with him. One dream, I was flying as usual with my friend and we touched down on the ground. I dreamt that I was singing when all of a sudden, a man in a black suit appeared. He looked normal with dark hair and pale skin but he was n't moving from where he stood. I grabbed my friend's arm and told him we need to run. We ran and then I flied but my friend ca n't. He looked scared. I flew away from him and when I looked back, he's gone. I woke up crying to my parents that my friend is gone and the man in the suit took him. They simply gave me extra syrup for breakfast. The next night, I was afraid to sleep because I was afraid of whatever took my friend but soon enough, I fell asleep. I dreamt that I was flying and then I saw the man standing on the rooftop. The moment our eyes met, I suddenly fell. I screamed as I fell towards the ground. I woke up crying for my mom. Up until now, I still dreamt of the guy in the black suit. I have a fear of falling now and a certain distrust with man in suits. You just ca n't trust them.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 342, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0331", "text": "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 should come in, Ben. ” “ I will. ” He reached out and stroked the underside of a petal. It moved with his finger, closing slowly, then returned to its original position. It reopened, undisturbed. “ Ben, ” she said, worry in her voice. “ It ’ s all right, I ’ m coming. ” Regretfully, he turned away. He was careful not to point his thrusters at the flower colony when he left. ***** Jade tried to hide how impressed she was with the video he had taken, but he wasn ’ t fooled. She was almost as excited as he was. “ Do you know what this means? ” he said. “ We send out the beacon for discovery of alien life. ” “ And? ” “ And it ’ s under our tag. We ’ re going to be extremely wealthy. ” Jade smiled. “ You ’ d better go send a message to your wife. You aren ’ t going to be home for a while. ” Ben smiled back. “ But when I get there, I get to stay. Say, do you wan na buy a ship? ”", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 384, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0332", "text": "seemingly slow at the same time. `` Honey... Dear... Sweet, sweet dear...'' `` Holy shit,'' John remarked. `` I haven't heard that tone of voice since the first time we had wild sex.'' The man turned. `` Are we gon na --'' He saw. `` Uh.'' He swallowed. `` You seem a little... mad.'' Destiny/Satan got up in her boyfriend's face, asking, `` Am I? Really, am I, dear sweet John? Did I have to turn into my demonic form for you to finally notice my feelings?'' `` Well, no...'' John looked away, but his girlfriend raised a finger tipped in green hellfire to turn his face back to hers. `` I mean, I thought you were kinda...'' `` Say it, John,'' Destiny/Satan whispered. `` Say it and fry forever in eternal brimstone.'' John made a nervous chuckle. `` Could be worse,'' he admitted. `` We could go to your family's reunion again.'' Destiny/Satan blinked white eyes. `` What?'' `` I mean,'' John hesitated a moment, `` I guess it figures that they're hellspawn, too. Look at Uncle Fossy. He's a Catholic priest, isn't he? And what about your Aunt Loren? Wal-Mart executive.'' Destiny/Satan gave her boyfriend a shake, demanding, `` What's your point, mortal fool?'' `` Hey,'' John pointed out. `` You may be Satan, but you turned out all right. At least you're honest, and that's why I love about you.'' He bowed his head. `` I'm sorry I didn't believe you sooner.'' Destiny/Satan stared at him for a few long moments. `` Wait,'' the Lady of Hell said, `` You're okay with me being Satan?'' John shrugged. `` Sataness, isn't?'' He saw her look. `` Cmon,'' he plead. `` I was okay with you being a demon in the sack, wasn't I? Bondage and whips and chains and everything. It figures, now, why you were so good at it.'' `` Well,'' Destiny/Satan admitted, `` for a mortal man, I guess you are more fun than most.'' She flared again. `` But you're still a mortal!'' `` Jeez.'' John messed with his ear, feigning deaf. `` You're telling me. I work tech support", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0333", "text": "up into his throat, and he dropped the everfucking phone again. The man outside the window stared at him, smiling. It took McAdams a moment to gather himself, he'd been startled so badly. He rolled the window down and said, `` What are you doing, standing in the road like that, sir?'' and trying really hard to sound official. It didn't work too well. The man said nothing. Just stood there, staring. McAdams glanced over his thin and too-tall frame, noting the dirty dreadlocked hair, pasty white bony complexion, and odd-looking tophat he wore. The red band across the base of the tophat was worn and ripped in places, as was his knotty tweed looking long jacket. The man's eyes were too-dark brown, and swam in rheumy whites. Teeth were straight, a bit yellowed, and far too big to seem normal. And eminating from him was a faint odor of fish. McAdams blinked, realized he was staring like an idiot, and shook his head. `` Sir, get back in your car right now!'' he barked. For a wonder, the apparition did as bid, turning slowly and padding forward to the driver's door of the ratty pickup. The tall man folded himself inside, the reverse lights blinked as he shifted into drive, and the truck trundled forward, spitting a cloud of smoke behind it. McAdams sat for a brief moment, watching the eerie truck motor away, and refusing to acknowledge how disquieted he suddenly felt, until the motorist behind him tapped his horn to encourage him to move forward. From beneath the seat, McAdams' phone blipped again. `` Son of a...'' McAdams cursed under his breath and reached down again to retrieve the device. He opened it, and saw that this time it was a text message. From Davey.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 400, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0334", "text": "in pain all those years ago. I died for you.'' `` I don't want to be here.'' `` Fine, go talk to Dad about a transfer.'' He waves his hand at me. I withdraw. A small group follows me. We made our choice. The singing starts again without us. It's so empty here... The only other building was the white room I woke up in. We all head that way. When we open the door, we see a robed middle-aged man fiddling with an anthill. He looks up at us for a brief moment, before whispering into the specimen. After a couple of minutes, he sighs and sets it down. `` Yeah? What do you want?'' `` Well, Mr. God, sir... This isn't the heaven we'd hoped for...'' `` This,'' he says, pointing at the anthill, just as a large segment collapses, `` isn't the earth I'd hoped for. What do you want me to do about it? My son's the one in charge up here.'' `` Could we transfer?'' `` What?'' `` Jesus... Told us to ask you about a transfer...'' `` You'd really prefer Hell to this? There's no more hunger, or poverty. Well, if you insist...'' We didn't have time to argue further. We awaken in a pile surrounded by bleak cityscape. Above us, the dark sky is clouded by darker smoke. People wander around with blankets around their shoulders, crying. A small old man approaches us, asking for some change. A few of us reach into our pockets and give about $ 1.85. Suddenly, we all cry out, our skin feels like it's dissolving. The man frowns, giving balm to those of us who gave to him. `` What's going on here?'' `` This is the land of the damned, where angels go when they have a shred of compassion.'' There's a little balm left after I've treated myself, so I help another couple of people out. I track the old man down, leaving the others to their own vices. He sees me, turns, offering more balm. `` No thanks, I'm fine.'' `` The sores will come back.'' `` Someone else has sores now.'' His eyebrows raise. He begins to chuckle. `` You're a strange one, I'll give you that.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0335", "text": "`` Keep it moving,'' demanded a voice behind me. `` It'd be a lot easier without these fucking chains'' `` Keep dreaming, Wilson.'' he retorted. We made our way to the visitation room and stopped as the guard scanned his ID card. A buzzing announced it was time to proceed, and I felt a hand press against my back, pushing me forward. `` Touch me again,'' I warned, `` and you lose the hand.'' ``... move it...'' he replied cautiously, attempting to regain his sense of power. I complied, but only because I knew what waited for me beyond the next door. A chance at freedom once again. As I sat at the table, I was greeted by a middle aged man wearing a cheap suit. `` Slade Wilson, I wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you. My name is Commissioner Gordon, and I work with the GCPD.'' `` I hear you have quite the Bat problem, Commissioner.'' I remarked. `` It was only a matter of time. Nobody stays so good for so long.'' `` Yes, it is true. Batman has gone... well... out of control. That's actually why I'm here, Mr. Wilson.'' `` Let me guess, you let me out on bad behavior, I kill your bat, everyone goes home happy, is that it?'' `` Well. simply put, yes. Batman has had his chance to surrender to the authorities, and has made it clear that his reign of terror will not stop until he is... dead...'' `` How convenient,'' I said with a smirk, `` A dead bat it as the top of my wishlist.'' ________________________________________________________________ `` We have gathered all of your supplies. Guns, 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0336", "text": "`` Go back to bed.'' Rose was standing in front of the mirror, Dad's electric razor in her hand and long curls of blonde hair tailing over the corner of the sink. `` What are you doing?'' `` I want people to see,'' she hissed. `` I'm not like you!'' `` You look stupid.'' The floor had been cold under my feet, but it was nothing compared to the look in her eyes when she turned around to glare at me. `` What would you know?'' She sneered. `` You're a nobody. You're not special. You will never amount to anything.'' -- -- -- The roads had been wet for about a week. I'd been watching raindrops chase each other down the smeared window of the beat-up old car. Rose got to sit in the front seat and Dad was struggling with a stick-shift, gears grinding and wheels sliding. `` You excited about seeing Grandma?'' He asked, turning round and beaming at me. Rose's ears stuck out from her shaved head, patches of blonde fluff just starting to crop up again around her ears. Dad was going to make her wear a hat when we got there. But we didn't. The wheels of the car skidded and Dad swore. The tiny car lurched and skidded, Rose wailing and gripping the dashboard with white knuckles as we hit the barrier of the road. I don't remember much. The water was cold and heavy and we started to sink immediately. Later they told me Dad's leg had got trapped under the gearstick. Rose had broken the passenger window with her elbow. She'd flayed the skin to her shoulder, they said. They didn't let me see her again for a while and when I did her hair was just beginning to get long, peeping over the corner of the white-collared shirt the hospital had given her. She sat on the end of my bed and picked nervously at the scabs on her red, raw arm until they broke and soft red blood began flowing. `` You saved me,'' I said nervously. The end of my sentence hung in the air between us. `` I quit smoking.'' `` You did?'' She swept her hair aside and showed me the back of her neck, smooth and clear as if the cross had never been there. `` Turns out you only get one great act.'' She said sadly. `` One was enough.'' She looked", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0337", "text": "“ A second Chrome icon? How did that get there? ” *Must have been from that whole fiasco where I had to use Firefox for six months*, I muttered. *Silly Sophos Anti-Virus, making Chrome crash at every turn. * I noticed it was slightly different but couldn ’ t quite place what it was. I bothered to click on it. The tabs were a little unusually shaped. *Maybe that ’ s a theme or something, but I can ’ t recall putting anything on it. * I decided to see what was up with this thing. First stop: the site I read too many times that had the latest headlines from the TV news industry. The headline at the top was a doozy: “ Sinclair Broadcast Group Declares Chapter 11 Bankruptcy ”. Now, in the real world, they ’ d come close to doing that a few years ago, but then they took on three billion dollars in television stations and transformed themselves overnight. But no, there ’ s the article, Sinclair was going to have to sell almost all of its stations and among the few they were keeping were Baltimore and Columbus. Baffled, I checked my normal Chrome window and found that it had normal headlines. *Oh dear. …Let ’ s see if any other sites are doing this. * My next stop was Uni Watch, which had a purple background. *Oh dear, Paul Lukas in the real world doesn ’ t like purple. This is getting very crazy…* I took a look and began to put the pieces together. Today ’ s Uni Watch lede was about the San Francisco Giants…which seemed innocuous until it mentioned that “ the Giants changed their colors from black and orange to black and sky blue, to complement the Azure Gate Bridge… ” I stopped in my tracks. I realized that the way things were going, I had one other thing to search. I pulled up Google—or, as it was stylized in this world, “ google. ” —and typed something else in. “ Super Bowl XIX. ” Sure enough, the Jets made it to a Super Bowl in this world. And the Dolphins managed to squeak into Super Bowl XXIII. I immediately knew what I had on my hands, closed the tab and renamed the shortcut. “ Chrome Double Prime. ”", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 468, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0338", "text": "A sleepy man - woman? It was hard to tell with all that hair and that lank figure - huddled under blankets, a cup of hot tea in their hands as they stared at the windows. Two windows, on the other side of which was a beautiful world. Full of colors, full of life, full of people. They found themselves - it found itself? - at a loss for how to describe it. The words from their - its? - lips floundered, fell, stuttered, and eventually fell silent, feeling inadequate. Piles of letters and phrases littered the floor, and it huddled deeper within its confines, burdened by an overwrought sense of divine presence overbearing its creative design. Behind, on the other side of the seat, a creature with a knife sat, slashing up words that it snatched from the floor. With eyes keen and set on destroying every misplaced syllable, it forgot its true purpose, and the shards and vowels and consonants lay fragile across the floor. A cackle left its lips as it slowly pulled'floccinoxihiliphilipication' apart, delicious symbol by symbol, before letting each one hit the floor in turn. The chuckling turned to a mad howling as the blanket suddenly found its way around the little monster, muffling it as the other being rose to its full height and strode to the windows, hands on the windows as it watched the ongoing events outside. Eyes wide, full of wonder, full lines of paper seemed to fall from its mouth in a never-ending stream of fantasy and delight. The little beast screeched and hooted, desiring so much to silence the other in its room, but could only escape once the words stopped.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 355, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0339", "text": "of my car and look towards the billowing smoke. There are about five men equipped with what looks like automatic rifles standing near the origin of the flames. I can't see anything else besides this. `` Are they military?'' I thought. When I got back in my car I started it up again without any problems. I guess this will be the only good thing to happen today. I begin to drive through the wreckage of other cars carefully. All their windows were blown out as well. Peering into some vehicles I didn't see a lot of motion. I was telling myself they were all just knocked out like I was, but I knew otherwise. When I got closer to where the blast originated I saw a charred car. The men holding the rifles saw me driving and ordered me to stop. There's a lot of firepower there so I wasn't taking any chances. They asked me with what sounded like a Russian accent, `` How much gas you have in tank?'' `` I'm at a quarter of a tank full.'' I reply. I never really get too much in there because of prices now and the shortage. Did they want to leave the scene? I glanced to my right and saw one of the other guys with them pull out a hose from a backpack and open another cars' gas door. He began syphoning their gas into a tank of their own. He was going car to car doing this. I was snapped back to attention when I heard, `` Give us what we want and no problems, okay?'' `` Okay'' naturally comes out when you have a gun in your face and asked a question like this. One of the others walked up to him and whispered something to him. All I saw was a head nod in response. That's when I started hearing the unmistakable sound of gunshots. They were killing any witnesses. In a panic I ducked down below the steering wheel and slammed the gas. I definitely hit the guy that was holding me hostage as well as pin-balling off of some cars along the way. I heard my car getting hit by their fire. I got off the next exit and started heading back home. How I made it out of there I'll never know. Now is not the time for thinking, now is the time for preparation. This has only just begun.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 471, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0340", "text": "( This is my first story on here, please bear with my on any mistakes or if its just bad... here we go! ) I've been a gamer for almost my entire life. Fantasy in games became reality for me to escape my awful life growing up. I'm the basic,'single mom, no dad, no money' kinda kid. Yet somehow I always scraped up enough money to buy the latest hit games, granted it was one game every other month or two. I had been stressing about my mutation for years, wondering what it could be and what I could possibly do with it. I thought of it like a toy, I could be a real life superhero... just like everyone else. Thing is, power can change a person, fast. I woke up right after midnight on my 21st birthday, feeling the intense burning all throughout my body, as everyone does receiving their power. After a few minutes of pain, it was over, and I was left wondering what I had been given. I tried lifting things in my one room apartment, no effect. I've always been a scrawny kid, no strength gains. I tried telekenisis, I wanted to be like Obi Wan. Still nothing. I tried to read my neighbors mind when asking for some coffee creamer the next morning. Still nothing. Then it happened. I was walking alone, as someone with quite literally no friends does, when some guys tried to jump me. Their powers were obvious. Strength, claws, and the biggest was made of rock. Since the powers first started, it's separated people into many groups, mainly the good and the bad. These were clearly the bad, the ones who abuse kids who haven't reached 21 yet. They picked me for being the scrawny kid I was, and assumed I didn't have my power yet. Even though I did, I didn't know what it was. They came at me, and I closed my eyes and held my hands up to shield the blows... and none came. I opened my eyes and a red, semitransparent shield was blocking their attempts to hurt me. `` I'm a conjurer... oh my God...'' I mumbled to myself as I made a sword appear and cut large gashes into all of them. They fell to the ground, and I made a headsman's ax appear and behead them, rather than let them bleed out. After that incident,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0341", "text": "`` Don't mind me,'' said GOD as HE sat down on the toilet. HE reached into the magazine pile on the side and grabbed an US Weekly. `` I'll still be here when you're done.'' Loretta screamed. She grabbed the shower curtain and tore it from its hooks, wrapping it around her body. The shower continued to run and the water bounced off the pale yellow curtain and onto the white tile floor. Steam spread throughout the room. `` WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?'' Loretta stepped out of the shower and onto the wet floor. `` Alpha, Omega, I am he who is called I am, you know the dri-'' GOD stopped as HE saw Loretta slip, she fell onto the edge of the shower tub and her neck bent unnaturally. HE sighed, pointed at her, and she rose up as if pulled by strings. With a snap of HIS finger, her neck returned to its proper position. `` Loretta Jones, 32 years old, assistant finance manager at Brunk & Spurlock, has never lived farther than 25 miles from her hometown of Sacramento, California, dreams of one day meeting Peter Falk, I am your creator.'' She brought her hands to her mouth as her feet returned to the tile floor, the water giving a quiet splash. `` Tell me, Loretta, what were you just thinking about?'' `` Umm, nothing. Nothing at all.'' HE smiled. `` How often do you think about nothing?'' `` Pretty often, I guess.'' `` Loretta, what would you do if I told you that you think about nothing more than anyone I've ever met before?'' `` I guess I'd be inclined to believe you, sir.'' HE laughed. `` I'm going on vacation, going to spend a few weeks as a capybara. I need someone to take over, someone who truly understands how the universe works. Can't let Jesus do it, he'd cure diseases and - trust me - they serve some purpose. Momo would give everyone raisins, and Sidd would end suffering. I need someone like you, after all omnipotence means anything you think of instantly comes true.'' `` What are you asking me?'' `` If I needed you to think of nothing until I returned, would you do that favor for me?'' Loretta's quivering hand fell from her mouth and swung up to her forehead, a soggy post-sh", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0342", "text": "rang through the stadium seating style room, and the audience fell into a hushed whispers, unable to stop themselves from discussing the planets they viewed. `` This, ladies and gentlemen, is the proof that we are not alone,'' he said, showing one planet. As he continued to talk, the planet rotated. `` The thing is, all of these planets show the buildings in ruin. No one is alive. They're all dead planets.'' `` But why are they all in ruins? How do we know for sure they are not hiding?'' `` We have been examining the planets for a year,'' he answered. `` There have been no movement. On all 428 planets. Of the 500 we sent, only 72 did not make it to their destinations. Of the 52 planets, there were no ruins found. The rest… 376 planets, they all had buildings—as you saw them. Houses, large buildings, towers, roads. Even pools. Yet, none of them had anyone walk around. Drive a vehicle. There are, however, life forms, animals if you will, moving around. Acting the very same way Earth's animals move to eat, to fight, and to sleep. They are not intelligent as they never used any of the buildings for themselves. `` Ladies and gentlemen, I present you another evidence. They all committed suicide. Mass suicides.'' He pressed a button and it zoomed in to a building. The people could clearly see bodies on the ground outside the building, each of them holding a weapon very similar to a gun and aimed at themselves. Another image showed similar scene, bodies with weapons aimed at themselves. The bodies on both planets were skeletons. The animals had not gotten to them on any of 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0343", "text": "I remove my glasses to wipe off the sweat between my eyes. I've been watching this little tutorial for ten minutes now. How long does it take to make a fucking sandwich? While her hands moved in slow-motion, she rambled endlessly about the history of the brand, from its New England roots to its present-day empire. Finally, she squatted down to examine the sandwich at eye level. `` Okay!'' she squealed. `` Now that the tuna is spread evenly, we can prepare for the cheese. Now, we at Subway offer a variety of freshly-sliced cheeses. We carry American, Cheddar, Provolone, Feta, Mozzarella, Pepperjack, and Swiss,'' she said peppily, pointing to each respective wedge. `` Now, we cut them in isosceles triangles. If you place two of them next to each other like this, they fit nicely into a parallelogram. See? I like to cover the entire base into cheese parallelograms. It just looks neater that way.'' I take a moment to glance at my watch. Fifteen minutes. I better be getting a break soon. Meanwhile, her face is inches away from the sandwich. Without blinking, she places each slice of cheese onto the geometric pattern. She breathes a quiet sigh of relief after each successful placement. `` It's not going to collapse. It's a sandwich.'' She blinked and looked up at me innocently. `` Sorry?'' `` You can get on with the demo. I know how to put cheese on a sandwich.'' Her eyes began to well up with tears. `` I'm sorry, it's just that I take so much pride in my work. This is my first job since Benny, my gerbil, died. Things are still rough.'' I was lost for words. I mumbled an apology, yet she continued to stare at me hopefully. The persistent eye contact made me uncomfortable. I eventually gave into the silence. `` Is there anything I can do... to... you know... help?'' I offered. Her eyes lit up. `` Yes, I am knee-deep in debt thanks to the whole funeral arrangement. Seriously, I can't even afford college. It's like $ 20,000 a year. Times four years. Which is $ 80,000. Plus room and board.'' I looked at her incredulously. `` So can we just do the whole dramatic reveal-thing now? I", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0344", "text": "ulsorbroom 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 the central chamber swiftly, he approached the meditation hall. Though his vision was obscured by feathers, he could see clearly that the corridor had been strewn with mini-groundcars: the type that younglings loved to play with. He cautiously approached them, but couldn ’ t see any way that the younglings had sabotaged them. He picked his way through the corridor and entered the meditation hall. There he could wash the sludge from himself and treat his burned face in the meditation pool. At the first sight of water, he fell to his knees and pushed his face down into the pool. Grateful for the brief respite, Anakin thought on his situation. How could the younglings pose such a thre- Zzzzap! Someone had electrified the meditation chamber using a thermal slicer. Anakin was pushed straight out of the water, his spine snapping into an upright position. He stumbled backwards into the corridor of the mini-groundcars. His foot landed on one of the wheeled toys and he slipped backwards, his legs dashing up into the air and his head cracking on the hard floor. This entire place had been booby-trapped, and the time for meditation was over. Anakin had lost his patience and was now operating under a bestial rage. Nothing could compare to his powers in the force – nothing, except, for the plucky courage of some younglings apparently. This rage was making him sloppy. When his feet were stuck in hydro-glue he merely ripped his boots off and strode on. He clattered through the shards of glass on the floor. He deflected the BB-gun aimed at his crotch. He didn ’ t care anymore, he was sick of these capers. He", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0345", "text": ". Dad was my best friend, he always had been. Growing up he always referred to me as his best mate and I genuinely believe that I was. He was always there. Every football match, every awards ceremony, every time I needed him he was there and soon he wouldn't be. After a few minutes of talking about the weather and the football we both acknowledged what was happening. Throughout the whole period of illness we'd kept our distance from the reality of the situation, we just acted like Dad was going to be OK, even though we knew he wasn't. `` I'm sorry, Son'', Dad said. `` Looks like we're going to have to take a rain check on that fishing trip, huh?''. I was so hurt I couldn't even find the words to say. I lay next to Dad and put my arms around him and cuddled into him like I was 3 years old again, looking for comfort from him. He hugged back and gently kissed the top of my head. We just lay there, no words, just the loving bond between a father and his son. Dad passed away whilst I lay in his arms. We never did get round to saying goodbye. Dad's funeral was held on a Thursday, June 25th. He was buried at the local graveyard, on the family plot next to his parents. It had rained heavily all day, from sunrise to sunset, not that you could see the sun through the thick, dark cloud that encapsulated every inch of the sky. I had to give a speech at the funeral, a reflection of my feelings towards this incredible human being and how this loss will forever impact my family's lives. I remember standing at the podium, shaking. I'd never been good at public speaking and given the circumstances I was not looking forward to delivering this speech. I barely made it through the entire speech. Afterwards I had a piece of music play for my father, a favourite of ours that we'd enjoyed listening to many times and in that moment I felt entirely alone. The church had suddenly emptied, no Priest, no mourners, no Dad. I just sat alone with the memories that Dad and I had created over the years. As the song neared it's end reality kicked back in and I was bought crashing back down to earth. Clearing out Dad's stuff was surprisingly painful. I'd been preparing for helping Mom clear out his stuff for a few days, mentally I'd tell", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0346", "text": "`` Finally'' He mumbles angrily, feeling his breathing go heavy as he clicks onto Justin Biebers YouTube channel. He felt a surge of power flow through him as he let his cursor glide slowly ontop of the electrocute button. It felt so natural to do it, yet so out of place with the new icon. He used to do this alot. Pressing the dislike button, navigating to the comment section, typing as fast as his greasy sausages would allow him. He would usually end up exhausted and having to calm his breath after each comment. As his mind drifted off, following the routine, he felt his hand hit the mouse button, his cursor drift to the big writing box he was so familiar with, and heard the loud clicks of his mechanical keyboard firing away at this /Justin Bieber/. Suddenly, it came to him. He had killed a man. He felt his fat wobbling as he tightened his muscles, his scalp breaking sweat after sweat under his fedora. He began to feel uneasy, and he felt the drinks and crisps in his stomach lunging towards the upper exit. His keyboard was covered in a wierd greenish colour, the colour of Doritos mixed with stomach bile. The unusual smell of puke began filling the room, and his stomach lurched a second time at this. This time, however, he was ready, had felt it coming. He bent to the side and projectile vomited at his second monitor, dousing his favorite pony in puke. Another thought came to him. He grabbed the last pieces of corroded Doritos out of his neckbeard, and clicked onto his own YouTube page. He went to his latest video and watched the amount of likes and dislikes closely. For what felt like hours he sat, in his pile of puke, sweat gathering at his moobs, waiting for the inevitable. He jerked from his chair from surprise, as the dislike bar gained a pixel. He felt a slight tingling sensation at his feet, that rose up his legs. As the electricity claimed him, he thought about closing his YouTube page. He thought it might safe his upper-body from paralysis. He moved his hand with all his might, but it wouldn't budge. Finally, he relaxed his muscles, and as the tingle, still becoming stronger, neared his heart, he felt his sight grow narrow and his heartbeat peaking. His stomach lurched a third time", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0347", "text": "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 left. Some were awake and crying. Some were groggy like her. `` Where are you taking me?'' She demanded. *'' The. Production. Room. `` * The droid responded without emotion. They entered a cavernous warehouse a moment later. She was stunned to see the endless walls of pods, rising seven stories and continuing on as far as her limited vision would allow her to see. `` The production room?'' She asked. *'' Yes. `` * The droid replied. `` They're all women.'' She observed. *'' Women? Female. Yes. `` * The droid answered. `` Why?'' She asked. The droid didn't respond, though she saw the progress wheel turning. She realized it didn't understand the question. `` Why do you have all these women stored in pods?'' She clarified. *'' To. Save. Man. Kind. `` * It responded. `` From what?'' She realized that was 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0348", "text": "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 into his pants. He was engaged in a heated conversation with the man behind the bar. I started to lose interest and I say down in one of the chairs. `` Fly like an eagle...'' BANG BANG. I looked up and the man with the gun had fired two shots into the man behind the bar. He then proceeded to spit on the body of the man behind the bar. The bar faded back to white. All white and once more I was alone. 7 more days passed and still all white. Wait. There was a slight tint of red. I continued to walk until I finally saw something a number of weeks later. An elevator. Inside the elevator, there was only one button, a down button. Suddenly, my mind filled with fear as the idea of hell was percieved. I exited the elevator immediately. I have sat here in the white for what seems like years. I can't sit here any longer. I walked back to the elevator and entered. My hand hovers over the button. Finally after God knows how long, I click the button.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 371, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0349", "text": "’ I hissed again at the boy. Did he not realise the importance of sleep on a Wednesday the night before pay review? ‘ I graduated from the ghost academy yesterday and they said I was ready. But I don ’ t feel ready. ’ ‘ Did they not give you any formative assessment? ’ ‘ No, I had a horrible teacher. He really didn ’ t like me. ’ I shook my head in despair. I already had thirty students in each of my five classes at school; I didn ’ t need another teacher ’ s failure. ‘ Surely you could have talked to the principal of the school? ’ ‘ No, my parents were wanting to arrange a meeting but the principal never contacted me back. ’ ‘ It sounds like you need to lay a complaint. How do they expect you to succeed with limited skills in such a niche market. ’ ‘ Oh, I didn ’ t want to haunt. I wanted to be the ghost in the psychic murder shows; you know the one that helps finder the killer, but I wasn ’ t smart enough for that. I always gave the wrong answers. ’ Another tear rolled down the boy ’ s face. I sighed. ‘ Look, I ’ ll see if I can put together some tutoring for you so we can find out the gaps in your knowledge and make a new academic pathway for you okay? ’ He looked up at me. His big eyes were round and hollow. His thin lips quivered. A flicking light caught my eye – a message had arrived on the phone. Congratulations on the promotion. I ’ m resigning tomorrow. I gulped. Diana wasn ’ t happy. I looked back up to tell the ghost that there were many things that didn ’ t go according to plan, and life was one of them. He had disappeared.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 365, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0350", "text": "but nothing exceptionally noteworthy. Upon return from a tea date with a perky blonde girl, the first thing he did was turn on the Playstation. An hour later, he had saved the world from the return of dragons and certain destruction. Now that was something. Not small talk in a smoky cafe. He had made a difference. Not that the virtual folk could appreciate it but he liked to thin this way. It helped with the immersion. Four hours had passed as he explored uncharted deserts fighting off bandits when he felt the urge to call off work. He did and spent the rest of the day chasing Arabian treasure and gunning down baddies. This trend continued as he began to shirk his homework and polish up his Smash Brothers game. No one could bob and weave like he. The semester ended and He decided that he would take a break from school. Being a full time student and employee was a lot of work. He would recover mentally and then go back in next semester. No biggie. While exploring a city in the sky, he missed work. The second time in a month. A week later he was fired. Not a big deal, it was just a fast food job. He was excited even. He had leisure time now, he could focus on his hobbies. Lightning crackled and sparked as he flung spheres of pure electricity at swarming enemies. He hadn't left his room the whole day. It was normal. It was called a speed Run actually. It was a popular thing to do even. As the sun set, he had become a martyr for good. He felt bittersweet about the ending of a great game but looked to the next challenge. As he started to pace an ancient tomb mowing down demons with a legendary blade, he did not feel that sense of escape and that emotion he once felt. He enjoyed it yes but it begun to feel like work and school used to feel. A cycle. Not a bad cycle, he wasn't in any pain or anything and he wasn't depressed either, He just hated the repetitive nature of it all. And it wasn't so much that he fell to the dark side as he jumped in with both feet forward, laughing all the way down. He hadn't been depressed. he hadn't been in any pain. He just hated cycles. The scene around him turned scarlet then grey then black as the chair beneath his feet became a blur and", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0351", "text": "I am getting killed today. Bit of an odd thing to tell people but I have gotten fed up of people and of living. I am 1294 years old, I have lived through everything a human being could but the hardest thing to live through is the death of family and kids. To date I have given birth to 96 children. I loved them all watched them grow have kids of their own and die. They all knew I am immortal but after a couple of generations it's easy to drift away from there offspring. They say a parent should never out live their children and it is so true, each death of a loved one hurts, that hurt is our punishment for not dying and I don't want to live with that hurt any longer. There aren't many immortals in the world and the few that there are keep to themselves. I have spoken to a few but I am the only the 3rd to agree to die. The only way an immortal can die is if we pass on our gift or curse to another willingly. I opened an ad on-line and asked for applicants to take my immortality. All the person had to do was tell me why they wanted it. Millions of replies flooded my site crashing it for days until it could be fixed. I would never be able to go through them all so I used a random number generator to pick out the person who would get it. Thomas was the one who got it, I called him up told him he had won and that he would be brought to my home as soon as possible. I explained to Thomas that I was willingly giving up my immortality but he would need kill me to get it, He wasted no time and promptly tried to bash my head in. He missed and hit me on the shoulder instead. Knowing I have to help him I got one of my guns loaded it and asked him to shot me. He missed from three feet away. I was starting to second guess him until he said that he had never killed a person before. Sitting Thomas down I learned that he was 32 and had no good idea what he would do with immortality but seeing as he had won and I am getting fed up we need to get on with this. I have agreed to type this up so that no one can say Thomas killed me without permission he will add onto this what he done to end me. Hi Thomas here so she's dead. Hold on I better check she is dead... Ye", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0352", "text": "her out to each other and muttering obscene statements to themselves. Sarah froze, and the reality of the situation hit her all at once. She hurried down to the subway tunnel and waited for her train, covering her legs with her bag. Person after person would start conversation with her, fascinated only with her figure and not her character. Man after man would complement her in vain, seeing nothing in her but her flesh alone. Sarah's train arrived and she got to her seat, noting ever passing stare and every passenger who would sit just a little too close to her and graze her leg on accident just a few too many times. It was wearing her down. She made it to her destination, but every fiber of her being told her to go back home, back to where she was Sarah, not the object she was in public. She wept at her friend's doorstep, scared of her future, and even more scared of her train ride back home. Tom woke up in a hospital bed. `` Whoa... You messed up this time.'' He said to himself. His field of vision shifted over to the doctor at his bedside. `` Hey doc, what'd I do this time?'' He groaned, half nonchalant, half concerned. `` Sir, why do you mean? You've been in here for weeks.'' `` Wow, you really messed up this time'' Tom thought to himself. His last memory was of Halloween. Did he drink himself into a coma that night. `` Excuse me, what day is it today?'' `` November 1st, Tom. Are you feeling ok?'' Tom fell back into thought. `` How have I been here for weeks? I was out just last night.'' He looked down at his chest and saw the huge mass around his body creating a mound in the hospital sheets. He remembered his Halloween costume, a fat suit. It made him look 200 pounds heavier, and the fat jokes he came up with the night before were endless. `` Hell, I'm even still in my costume! Is this some kind of joke? Do you really think you can trick me like that?!'' He shouted at the doctor. A nurse appeared behind him and spoke to Tom in a soft voice. `` Sir, it isn't Halloween anymore. We already took you out of your costume last night. Don't you remember your kids coming to trick or treat at your bedside?'' `` What? No, this is my", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0353", "text": "to go, just that he should be away. His head was spinning, and he had to stop several times to catch his breath and fight back the encroaching darkness. Feeling his strength returning, John reached out for a fallen tree branch and hoisted himself to his feet, using the limb as a crutch. Before him was a house, relatively untouched by the flames and the battle, and through his addled mind he figured it to be a safe place to hide, to wait for reinforcements. There would be reinforcements, right? John looked around, but the street remained empty, save for the occasional crow swooping in for a feast. The shelter of the house called to him, reached out. He doubled his pace. As he hobbled up the driveway, past the scorched hulk of a minivan, he did a double-take. There, in the window, was a face, for just a moment. Ignoring his mounting fears, he called out, a desperate wordless plea. He stumbled, landing on the ruined remains of his leg. The world swam, he tasted copper, and the darkness swept over him like a warm wave. *** John awoke to a sharp pain in his leg. He tried to call out, but his throat was parched, and all he could manage was a wheeze. He looked around through crusted eyes; he was in a room, thin streams of light filtering through pin-prick bullet holes. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he began make out figures, sheltered in the gloom. As the past events surfaced in his memory, John instinctively pushed himself upright and nearly swooned as the pain returned in full. He managed to reach the 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0354", "text": "just before the great stone slabs slid open, revealing the swirling chaos behind. A brief word of encouragement from Garon, and the party stepped forward. Immediately, they were surrounded by an indescribable chaos. Up was down, left was right. Colors and smells and sounds mixed in a confused vortex. After what seemed like an eternity, the terrified party felt their feet hit solid ground. Decades of training led them to immediately snap to their senses, analyzing their surroundings. However, doing so only left them more confused. They were standing on a hard grey stone with lines painted on it. There was grass surrounding them, but it was the deadened brown of winter plants, despite the moderate temperature. In the distance there were towers made of thin struts, with barely visible ropes running between them. To one side, they could see a bulbous structure, with a sloped base, and a large sphere at the top, made of some nondescript white material. Looking at eye level, they saw a row of buildings. The buildings were clearly made by more skilled hands than those who had created the hamlets and villages the group was used to. They were made of the same strange material, but in varying shades of garish blues, yellows, and pinks.They had the shingle roofs normally reserved for only the richest of nobles. Yet, despite craftsmanship that even the grandiose High Elves would envy, the houses were clearly in disrepair. Some of them were collapsed, others had walls blown out, and the plants were in a state akin to a gardener's worst nightmare. The stone they stood on was cracked and ruined. There were hunks of curvy metal with circles at their bases stood at the edge of the road here and there. Strangest of all was the structure planted right in the middle of the streets. Made of a haywire collection of materials, it stood at an almost physics defying angle. A poorly made gate stood at the front. The confused and scared party approached it, then ducked down for cover when they heard voices from inside. Two men seemed to be talking. Quieting themselves down for a moment, the party strained their ears, attempting to hear what they said, in an attempt to find out what was going on. One sentence came to them clearly. & nbsp; & nbsp; `` General, another settlement is in need of our help''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 492, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0355", "text": "`` I'm so sorry, she didn't make it through the night.'' I never knew how powerful words could be. How ridiculously terrible. How they can completely destroy someone's life. 7 words determining how the years to come will be for someone. I wonder how they feel while they wait for us to come up to them. While they sit on those little benches stapled to the wall or crammed in those tiny rooms around a rumpled bed. Or even standing in a hallway endlessly pacing back and forth, like they're trying to carve their fear and worry into the tiled floor. I was going to stay with her all night you know? But that's not how how it works. Someone else needs the bed. Maybe someone who still has a chance or maybe someone who's just going to be carted down like this poor girl. I stayed with her until they came to take her downstairs though. Everyone else had left. I guess I just didn't want to accept what happened. I mean, I became a doctor to help people. Here's the non-living proof that I had failed. Ha! Get it? Non-living! Gallows humor, I guess. How did everyone find the strength to go on? I'm so drained and it's only 1 am. Still have another 7 hours on the clock. When they came to roll her body out, I looked at the black bag and wondered, `` Why do we do that?'' Cover them up so we can't see the person anymore. It's like they never existed. All that's left is a misshapen black bag with a serial number. The orderly had headphones in and tossed her inside the bag without any ceremony. Didn't she deserve better? A solemn moment? Not a twenty-something head banger treating her like cargo to be rolled around. They called the family shortly after she was rolled out. They were on their way right after the call. A pre-funeral procession. I was left with the task of telling them what happened. She was my patient after all. My attending thought it was time I had one of these conversations. Hooray. No more safety net. Sink or swim... sink or swim. It kind of felt like that, like I was drowning. It was suddenly hard to breathe and I felt the panic rising in my chest. How was I so sweaty all of a sudden? I didn't get long", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0356", "text": "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 me. } I heard the voice, but not really; it was coming from somewhere in my head. The thoughts weren ’ t my own, yet somehow they had to be. { Let me introduce myself, } the voice said. { My name is Apaxus, and I ’ ll be possessing you today. I am a demon and have been in this prestigious line of work for almost two millennia. I hope to seriously annoy you and superbly anger the people you interact with on this fine autumn day. I hope you didn ’ t have anything important planned! } I mentally scoffed. A demon? In my mind? I must have been going crazy. But I wasn ’ t. Apaxus assured me of that. { Oh, you ’ re not going crazy, } he said in reply to my thoughts. { Believe me, I ’ m real. You can ask my boss, the one and only Lucifer, when you meet him, or the Big Guy Upstairs if you ’ ve been a good boy. } Spontaneously developing a separate personality must be qualified as *crazy*, so the foreign thoughts didn ’ t help to soothe me. The barista called out, “ One grande iced mocha with a shot of espresso to go, for - ” I cut her off before she could read off the curse. “ Thank you so much! ” I said and moved toward the door, holding it open for a couple who were entering. Again, the words were not my own. *Why would you do that? * I asked my demon. Thanking someone and holding the door for people didn ’ t seem like a very malicious thing to do, so I couldn ’ t figure out why Ap", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0357", "text": "don't know what it is until we ask.'' They moved to the front of the store, Thomas charging ahead, dragging Keir by means of some unseen tractor beam, or perhaps whatever invisible bond that binds lovers. `` There's writing on it,'' said Thomas. `` The plot thickens.'' `` Or that's just more points in my favor,'' said Keir. His stomach growled. There was a woman at the register, heavyset and nearly spilling over with excitement at the sight of the men and the coaster. `` Now here's two boys who know a deal when they see one,'' she said, swinging to the register, fingers flying across the keypad. Keir saw the $ 19.99 flash on the display and nearly went cross-eyed with agitation. `` Now wait just a minute!'' he shouted. Thomas held up a hand. `` Actually, we were really just wondering what the story was. Why is this coaster for sale? It's even been written on. Is this...'' Thomas started. `` Did someone famous own this coaster?'' `` I don't care if Jesus himself used it when he turned water into wine,'' said Keir. `` It's a goddamn disposable coaster!'' `` Of course someone used it,'' said the woman, taking the coaster from Thomas' hand. `` See this? This bit up here?'' Thomas squinted. `` It's a phone number.'' `` It's the Dancer's phone number,'' she said. `` She gave it to him that night. At Bindy's.'' Keir shook his head. `` Are we supposed to know what that means?'' The lady smiled and sighed. `` She was on a date that night. A guy from the club. He'd given her money and jewelry, so... so she figured she couldn't say no. And not for something as fancy as Bindy's. He sent a car and picked her up at her apartment over in Oakville, which isn't any better today than it was then. But she got all dolled up and went to Bindy's. `` He wasn't a nice man. And he was married, which apparently he didn't think much of. They weren't even alone. There were some other men there. Business partners, maybe. The guy was showing off, and it was obvious he expected a little more at the end of the night... they all did. `` She was", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 493, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0358", "text": ",'' William shouted as the gunfire erupted. Two soldiers, Privates as William noted, lunged forward and grabbed the Mages' arm. They pulled him down in the middle of his incantation and broke his concentration. His eyes broke open. `` What is happening?'' `` Ambush. I need to get you to safety,'' William said as he fired off his rifle over the trench. There was no telling how many Germans were launching an attack and William's primary objective was to keep the Magus safe. Territory control was minor compared to holding the most powerful beings in the world. And his secondary objective, he noted in his head, *eliminating* the enemy Magus. `` The incantation is not done. The gas will return!'' William blind-fired again as he watched a soldier's head on his left disappear into nothing. The enemy Magus was moving forward with the attack, ready and able with destruction magic. `` Can you fight?'' He ducked his head. The Magus' eyes enlarged. His hands dug into his cloak and pulled out a vial filled with a red liquid. In a moment, he popped the top off and drank the whole thing. `` I can.'' `` Good,'' William looked around. He could almost hear the German's footsteps. `` On my mark,'' he said and held up his hand. He waited as the gunfire died down and the Germans approached. The spoke in their own language and William wondered what they were shouting over the trench. He surmised it was similar to what he would have been shouting. They needed a confirmed Magus kill. William reloaded his rifle carefully, as to make less noise, he knew they wouldn't get one today. He waited a few more moments, the tense air around him spoke great lengths. His soldiers were dirty, tired, hungry, and needed a good morale boost. Taking the enemy Magus and mounting his head would be a good start to boosting that morale. The German's food and much-better built trenches would be even better. He heard a few buckets clang over head. It meant only one thing, the German's had approached *their* kill zone. He clenched his hand in a fist and then rushed over the trench. `` Go! Go! G --'' The gunfire drowned out his words as he and his platoon lunged upwards and opened fire on the German's in front of him. Yet, as he quickly realized, there", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0359", "text": "`` You look nervous,'' he said to me, eyes shifting to a warm yellow-orange of concern. `` Your first time in here?'' `` I'm not nervous,'' I replied, honestly, picking up the next one in the line. `` I've got a thing with my eyes. They're always this color.'' `` You sure?'' the salesman said, eyes turning the white of confusion with a few flecks of red anger dashed here and there. `` I mean, I get it, but you do n't got ta make stuff up.'' `` I'm not nervous,'' I told him, putting the object down, and picking up the next one in the line. `` Why would I be nervous? I would n't have shown up in the first place if I was n't absolutely confident that I was doing the right thing.'' `` I mean,'' he replied, eyes turning the green of understanding with a few of those damn persistent red flakes here and there. `` There are lots of reasons to be nervous. It's a big decision.'' `` Maybe,'' I replied, actively looking him in the eyes for the first time. `` But, I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I'll take this one.'' `` Excellent, sir.'' He beamed at me and his eyes turned the fiery blue of happiness as he took the engagement ring out of my hand and placed it in a small box. `` I'm sure your girlfriend will love it.'' Edit: forgot a word", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 301, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0360", "text": "bridge, he looks out the window in amazement. He sees a blanket of thick, dark clouds. Thicker and darker than he'd ever seen in all his 24 years at sea. A opaque mist also surrounded the ship. The waves were slinging the ship to and fro, and the turbulence was dizzying. The captain wandered to his quarters, and began to sit patiently, with the many hundreds of lines of protocol rushing through his head. The Captain's eyelids begin to feel heavy. `` Sir!, SIR!!'' The Captain is awoken by Lieutenant Commander Russo. The captain realized he must have dozed off in his chair. Stifled, he looks around and snaps into character. `` There's something you're going to want to see, sir. ``, Russo asserted, as she beckoned Captain Crest to the bridge. They make their way hastily to the bridge, where Russo vigorously swings open the door with the Captain on her heels. The Captains eyes widen as he sees all 10 of his chief officers motionless, gawking outside the window in awe, not even bothering to salute him as he walks in. `` What on god's green earth...'' He says, with a shaken tone. Outside, just on the horizon, wooden ships could be seen. Their many sails bright white, and their cannons booming. `` Someone, anyone! What the hell is going on here!? ``, the captain shouted. Thompson turned to the captain. `` Sir.... those are naval vessels... but..'' Thompson reaches out with a spyglass in his hand, presenting it to the Captain. `` But what, Thompson? But what? ``, Captain Crest probes angrily. `` They aren't from this century...'', Thompson finishes. `` Impossible'', Captain Crest grunted as he snatched the spyglass from Thompson's hand and pulled it up to his eye. The Captain freezes. His face turns pale white, and his heart sinks into his chest. He lets the spyglass slip from his fingers and fall to the ground with a stunned and frightened expression on his face. `` God help us'', he mumbles, under his breath. `` God help us all.'' ( That was part 1. I liked writing this and I might do a part 2. Let me know if you like it. Thanks for reading. )", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 476, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0361", "text": "`` Thing is, Nolan, criminals shouldn't feel offended at being called roaches.'' The reporter raised an eyebrow at me from across the coffee table. We were in a Starbucks on a Friday night, full of chatty teenagers. Sometimes, either one of us would need to raise our voices to be heard. `` Why is that, Mr. Clay?'' I sipped my coffee. `` See, we got one thing in common with those dirty sons of bitches. When the light comes on, we run.'' `` Yet earlier, you said you're different.'' `` Tell me, do you trust the government?'' Nolan shrugged. `` I don't think my opinion—'' `` Answer the damned question.'' `` Not really. I mean, everyone knows they're spying on us. Even as a journalist, I don't always get to—'' `` So if you ordinary folk don't trust the government, what makes you think criminals will? Come forth and let your sins be washed away, as long as you committed them in this or that year, arbitrarily chosen by your man in that big white house?'' I scoffed. `` Was brought up Christian, you know. Far as I know, only one fella can pardon you. Humans ain't so forgiving or forgetful.'' Nolan's expression became thoughtful. `` Last year, the government chose 2012. Fifty-six people came forward with confessions.'' `` I saw the newspapers. Eighty murders in total, along with a bunch of petty crimes. One woman ate six of her neighbors' cats. Hilarious.'' `` Really? I don't see what's funny about that.'' I laughed. `` The cats? Who cares about the cats? I'm talking about the math. Eighty murders? There are several times that number of homicides alone in New York City, let alone the state or the country. Doesn't that prove what I've been saying? Criminals don't want a spotlight on them. How many of those fifty-six ended up being re-arrested for other crimes in other un-pardoned years?'' `` More than half.'' Before I could interrupt, he said, `` Let's revisit my earlier question. Why, then, are you keen on publicity?'' `` You're making me blush. I don't know what you're talking about.'' `` 1978. You murdered seven people. Or so you confessed.'' `` Eight, actually", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 491, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0362", "text": "I do n't know what they are. When you think of monsters, you imagine the familiar - werewolves, zombies, or maybe vampires. The kind of monsters you see in movies and games. It's a natural reaction. Not many people can imagine the really uncomfortable or frightening kind, nor do they want to. I certainly could n't imagine this. `` Sweetie? You can come out now. It's safe.'' The emergency broadcast on the TV told everyone to stay put. To lock the doors and close the curtains. As always, a lot of people did n't listen, taking to the streets with guns and backpacks in tow. I do n't know what happened to them. I do n't even know what I hope happened to them anymore - perhaps becoming a monster is just a matter of switching sides at this point. `` Our kids are waiting downstairs. The government made another brodcast, they said the crisis is over.'' The only reason I'm still hiding is paranoia. It's not even really a fear of the unknown - I know that the person outside the closet is my wife. It's her voice, her fingers gently tapping the wall... But it feels like she's acting out a role. Like she knows all the right things to say, but does so with just a little too much conviction. `` I'll wait out here, honey. Until you're ready to come out.'' She is my wife. She has to be, right? If she was a monster... I'd know, right? At the same time, I have n't heard any broadcasts on the radio. The silence outside is still ear deafening. A note slips under the door. `` I miss you'' it says. I do n't know what they are. I guess I'll have to find out sooner or later.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 372, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0363", "text": "`` So, what have you been struggling with the most?'' Dr Frankenstein asked one of his fellow competitors as he sat backstage before the event. `` Glutes, mostly.'' Arnold replied. `` Glutes?'' Frankenstein thought to himself `` This guy's good, I was n't even going to be going into such detail. I've been struggling with just getting this guys head on straight in practice and this guy is already going into muscle details? I'm so going to lose.'' `` You?'' the man asks the visibly anxious Doctor. *Think, think of something, you ca n't just tell him'the head' he will know you're a fraud. `` The vas deferens and the genitals have been particularly tricky.'' Arnold smiled, picked up his protein shake, and walked away quickly. `` Okay everyone, let's get out on stage'' Ivan called as the contestants filed out of the small holding area. The doctor watched as they all stripped down. `` Well that's confident,'' he said to himself as he pulled up his long black rubber gloves. `` I'd rather stick to more sanitary methods'' he added as he signaled to Igor to wheel out his cart of miscellaneous body parts. `` Do you hear them? They are all applauding the work already, this will be a disaster! And where on earth did you get this duodenum; are you trying to give him a peptic ulcer?'' `` Sorry, master'' Terrified but knowing he had to face his fears the doctor put on his face and pushed the cart out onto the stage. `` I apologize for the delay'' the young doctor said as he introduced himself and grabbed his scalpel. `` It is important that you remove any necrotic flesh before you begin, scooping out the left eyeball of his specimen, `` And always bring extras!'' he joked as he held up the rotting tissue. Wilhelm screamed and set off a panic throughout the venue as people jumped over each other to exit the auditorium. `` Oh jeeze,'' Frankenstein began `` I'm so losing my tenure over this.'' Looking out over the empty room the doctor could only sigh and judge himself for his failures when suddenly a hand came across his shoulder, giving it a little squeeze of assurance. The doctor turned around to see Ivan standing there with a smile on his face, `` So, can I watch?''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 484, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0364", "text": "and likely by the parks on the other side of the leafy expanse, to be off limits. No ballsy youth nor drunken divorcee nor curious child was foolhardy, inebriated or unloved enough to venture into the dark thicket of tangled brambles and branches. Once, Carey had asked Ma why they didn't go through the woods to visit Aunt Jan, nana's sister's daughter, who had a clean trailer and hugged Carey when they saw each other at Christmas. Ma had shook her head, the way she did at fancy envelopes from the state and at daddy when he said he had a lead on a job. `` Don't nobody go into those woods who wants a chance at coming out the other side.'' She paused, and Carey thought that was it, but after a minute, she continued. `` There's all kinda dark things in these woods, Carey-bear. You stay away now, you hear?'' Carey didn't know tree names, didn't, in fact, know that trees had names, but she knew the smell of rotten sap that spewed from the black cottonwoods, and she saw the sick that spread across the leaves in summer and that mottled the bark in winter. The woods did not grow, not anymore. They stood, a silent warning, and only those who lived in the trailer parks dared sleep near its shadow. Carey, with her owl eyes and tall limbs, with a dead nana and few friends, was not much different from the other children in the park, but being different is not always a precursor to walking a different path in this world. In Carey's case, her path shifted on a Tuesday night, which was Ma's late night at the 7/11 and daddy's night to make dinner. Most nights he heated up some pizza rolls in the microwave and let Carey watch him play Xbox, but that Tuesday he had gotten nothing but duds on his lotto tickets and couldn't be bothered with anything other than his crumpled paper bag and large glass bottle full of yellow liquid. Carey, who eventually got hungry enough to want to do something about it, was in the process of microwaving the pizza rolls herself when Ma walked in, took one look at daddy and at Carey, who had just climbed up on a stool in order to reach the microwave, and started hollering. `` Jesus fuck, Daniel, can you even remember to", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0365", "text": "`` Damn, that was some crazy shit.'' You recline back in your creaky office chair. `` Who even thinks of these things? Who ever thought to incorporate a moose into it? And what was the chocolate fountain in the background even there for? Better yet, why the hell did I watch all of it?'' As you sit and ponder these cosmic mysteries, the realization hits that you were so distracted by `` Mission Cumpossible 27'' that you never got you rocks off. Your cursor hangs over the replay button for just a second, before it makes its way back up to the address bar. Unfortunately, as you shift your weight forward, preparing to type in bing.com, the mouse gets pressed with a little too much force. Suddenly, before you even realize what you clicked halfway up the page, a new window pops up. A Facebook window? As you stare at the window, wondering what the hell kind of pop up this is, you see it. God hath forsaken you to the pits of hell. This page was just a kindly acknowledgment for sharing the video you just watched. `` Thank you for sharing this video with your friends! Be sure to check out Mission Cumpossible 28!'' No way is this site not mocking you. A cold sweat forms on your brow, your hands shake with the thoughts that your public life is over. As you stare at your Facebook wall, a feeling of nausea creeps down to the pit of your bowels. `` Why the fuck is that even a button!'' you scream to the empty basement. All the ways this will screw you start coalescing in your imagination. Pictures of you crying as you pack your desk at you office job. The disgusted stares of old friends as you walk past them in the grocery store. Your girlfriend leaving your now foreclosed house with another man. You start crying, waiting for the first person to see what you shared on Facebook. Then a notification comes in. You do n't want to look. Who's gon na leave your life first? You reluctantly look. `` Grandma Johnson likes your post.'' Edit: some punctuation problems. Wrote this quickly at work so could n't reread at first.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 448, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0366", "text": "laughed uncomfortably. However, the host was grinning from ear to ear. `` Now, you'll see why we brought you so far out of the country!'' He remarked; and the chefs all seemed to blink and awkwardly shift. `` Here, it's legal to eat human and in fact it's a delicacy. You'll actually see that all of these people have some things in common. They're albinos, or have ginger hair. It's said that both of these things are very powerful and eating the skin of an albino or ginger will grant you unlimited luck... but boy, I'd have a hard time believing that because these guys don't look very lucky right now!'' The host guffawed to the stunned chefs, who were quickly picking up on the fact that this clearly was not a joke. `` For this round, since you won the advantage Eliza - Eliza? Oh, well, looks like Eliza is down... hmm.. well, the show must go on -'' The host tilted his head, shaking his head at the blonde who had fainted in horror. `` James, you had the second best dish in the last round. You can assign a male or a female to your opponent. Men are believed to taste better here - but that may just be a matter of their more *ostentatious* price point here. Remember, James, this round puts the prize money up to five million dollars after you collect your round one bonus.'' James had finished cooking his scorpion and snake-eye pie in record time during the appetizer round; in which he'd also received pretty good marks. He didn't quite beat Eliza, but he was relieved to see that she was now out of the competition by the looks of it. `` Uhh..'' James stuttered; then he assigned a pale ginger woman to his remaining opponent with a shrug. `` I'll take the man.'' He said, and with that, he began sharpening his knives. As long as he didn't think too hard about this, he could finally pay off all of his debt and - fuck - he could retire! Plus, this would probably make him more famous than he could've ever imagined... Enrique looked dumb-founded as a woman was thrown onto his counter like a big slab of cow-meat. However, just as he was contemplating whether or not he would actually go through with this for the money ( he probably", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0367", "text": "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. `` I'm going to warn you now, Marin, my boss is not the kind of man you want to play with. I'm sure he has heard about what you've been doing to me, and when he shows up here to take me back- you'll wish you had listened to me sooner.'' She held the knife up to the light. Jacob had gotten it from his father when he was seven, he said it was a very special blade that could protect him from any and all danger, even divine. Now, in the thin light that surrounded them both, she could see that something was written on the edge of the blade. *Do not forget, my son, God has abandoned you. * Marin looked from the blade to the angel, and then smiled. `` Well, I guess we'll see then, won't we?''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 319, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0368", "text": "# # # # # # [ ] ( # dropcap ) The burning splint of wood tumbled as it fell, the dying flame sputtering wet cobblestones until it was extinguished. He took a drag of the lit cigarette, the cherry end glowing bright for a moment. He let the breath hang, watching the clock tower above him before exhaling a cloud of white smoke. `` Tim Fucking O'Casey...'' an irritated voice said behind him. He didn't bother looking back, instead glancing back to the clock. *Yep. Right on time. * `` Archie,'' He said genially. `` Glad to see you.'' `` Fuck you to, Timmy,'' Archibald Clemens replied. Clemens was a man in his late twenties, his tired leather jacket a size too large on him. His brown hair was worn short in front and shaved in the back, and gave him a rather medieval appearance. One ear had been ripped in the past and healed ragged, the lobe missing a sizable chunk. The two men said nothing for several minutes, instead allowing the silence of the misty evening to fill the gulf. The clock tower chimed eleven, the bells tolling the ancient Westminster Chimes. `` AlphaGo, what sort of code name is that?'' asked Clemens finally. O'Casey shrugged. `` Read it once in some textbook on primitive A.I. I doubt anyone in six jumps of here has ever heard of it. More than a thousand years old now.'' Clemens nodded and looked away, his hands slouching in the pockets of his jacket. `` You got a job for me?'' O'Casey grunted the approximation of a yes and handed Clemens a slim manila envelope. `` Ever hear of Carthage? The planet, not the ancient Terran civilization,'' O'Casey added. `` That's that Taurian world between the Protectorate and Concordant, yeah? I know *of* it, but nothing else.'' `` Well,'' O'Casey said. `` It's an agrarian world, settled sometime in the early thirty-first century. Population fifty million, two hundred million if you count the sheep. It declared independence along with the rest of the Spinward worlds twenty five years ago. It has its own militia; a few regiments of infantry and a crap battalion of armor.'' `` A garrison contract, cadre?'' O'", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0369", "text": "Well I guess it's not my birthday anymore, still. I got a lego tattoo on my face this morning when I woke up because I had a lego stuck in my face. And I had some chocolate on my face too. I know I had another candy bar that I was saving for today but now I don't know where it is so I'm going to the store to find another one but I might have to go to a different store because I think I ate all the 3 Muskateers at the store my mom always goes to. She used to go there but I don't know where she is now. But I made my bed this morning, I have to make my bed before I go because mom always says I have to make my bed before I leave the house. But now I don't know if I want a candy bar. My tummy still hurts from all the candy. Mom always says I'm not allowed to have too much but I ate all the muskateers at the store that I didn't eat before when I went there. But not all of them, I only like the chocolate on the outside and my mom always eats the inside because she says that is her favorite part. On my birthday, I went to the store and ate all the muskateers and a lot of cheese-its and my mom always says to eat vegetables but all the vegetables were covered in flies and smelled like farts and I didn't eat any and now my tummy hurts. My mom is always right. One time, before she left, she told me to eat carrots so my eyes would be better but I never did and then I had to get glasses but then they broke one time or yesterday when I was looking for people and now I only have my contacts from last year but I don't like putting them in my eyes. And I only have enough for 2 more weeks and they aren't the right prescription because I had to get glasses twice since I got these. I only have 2 more weeks of contacts... Today is Tuesday and my contacts case has all the days on the front like a calendar. We used to get them in the mail every month. My mom said, before we cancelled them she said we would get them every month for me and my dad and we always get them at the same time. I wonder if someone will deliver my contacts? Where is someone. I miss my mom. I p", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 493, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0370", "text": "Here's two pieces! **Love and Hate** The engine roared. Truck shaking, sputtering, coughing. Symptoms of a perfect cocktail: made one part age, one part poor maintenance. It turned heads when it howled past people, put a pair of curious eyes between parted blinds, searching for what caused the commotion. The blue black brackish smoke— the color of her hair, her eye shadow, her clothes—trailed the rattling beast, settling an acrid haze thick as San Francisco fog. She checked her rear view mirror and cursed under her breath. He was awake. Idly sitting in the car seat, examining a rattle. His lower lip pouted, an image of constrained thought. Someone shouted outside the truck as she sped past, probably something along the lines of, “ Slow the hell down. ” In her rearview mirror, he flailed his arms, shaking angrily and tossing something to the ground. She knew she should be happy, she was getting what she wanted and it was her idea, but she couldn ’ t. She would have smiled before, but now it seemed wrong. No, not wrong. Disrespectful. The tires screeched as she took a turn at a stop without stopping, foot back on the pedal. Their house was just around the corner. When she turned, she found them standing shoulder to shoulder on the front lawn. In front of their four bedroom house, with their small dog named Rex, or Tex, or Flex, or Who The Fuck Cares. White picket fence, two car garage and a Barbeque the perfect size to comfortably accommodate the whole damn suburb with burgers and brats and the bullshit they spoon fed each other. The image of it was enough to make her ill. “ What are we doing at Grandma and Grandpa ’ s? ” He asked from the back seat. She said nothing, scratching at the marks in the pit of her elbow, and takes him from his car seat. “ Mommy ’ s sick. ” She said. “ Mommy has to get better. ” She hugs him, prolonging the inevitable. “ Mommy, ” Christopher says, “ Why are you crying? ” * * * * * * A woman needs her independence. Free from the burden of life. I ’ d have more if I wasn ’ t raising him alone. When I find it, the release is sweeter than cracking knuckles, emptying", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0371", "text": "the new knowledge that our existence was entirely due to Prometheus. They determined that it went from 67 % ( in the Milky Way ) to 0.0001. Practically nil. Our expedition took off anyway because HR 8832c looked so green and white and blue. Surprisingly, we did find as we approached that the HB 8832 system had a modest population of comets. That had given us some hope, but now it was all dashed. The computers came back with the expected result: nothing. We made a landing, just to see what it looked like and to have ground-level views and samples to take home. Emerging on the shore of a tidal estuary, which ought to be a prime site for life, we kicked desultorily at the drab mosses. Alan dug up a soil sample. “ Mostly sandy, only about 5 % organic matter, ” he said. “ Not a worm or a bug. Probably plenty of bacteria though. ” We stayed until well after sunset, just to make the trip seem worthwhile. The air was pleasant to breathe and the sky was beautiful. Alfa pointed to a pair of bright stars. “ That ’ s Sol, and Alpha Centauri. Odd that they should be so close together. ” “ Earth ’ s up there, ” I said wistfully. “ I miss it. It took us ten years to get here and it will take us ten years to get home. ” “ Would you have come if you knew this was all we were going to find? ” “ I don ’ t think I need to tell you the answer. ”", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 332, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0372", "text": "The village was always peaceful at night. The sun setting in the ash-gray sky mixed with the twinkle of the light-drones floating by set a happy mood that contrasted with the way we were all feeling. Many of us would leave this very night. Not many of us would come back. I held my daughter's hand for what might be the last time ever, the twin red ribbons on my head snapping lightly in the breeze. The rest of the men were gathered in the center of the town, waiting for instructions to come in on the once-new projector mounted on the town hall. The Alliance would be sending missives tonight, ordering the troops out across the frontier once again. This war was breaking apart families once again. I never thought it would be me dying out there until I saw the blood red envelope waiting for me outside my door a few months ago. Red is the color of the elite troops in the Alliance's so-called Glorious Army. Many say they used to have white ribbons, but they were covered with so much blood that they decided to keep that color. With the rifle issued to me heavy on my back, I squatted and picked up my daughter. Her name was Dawn, and she was the reason I was going with the elite guard. I was fighting for her freedom, my wife's freedom, the village's freedom. The resources being fought over mattered little to me. I kissed Dawn on the forehead, then took her over to her mother. I put her gently into my wife's arms, and then looked at my wife. There were tears in both of our eyes. Before turning away, I stroked my daughter's ribbons and hair one last time, and then turned away from them. The screen had come to life, and a grizzled general was issuing orders to the troops across the nation. There was a saying among the elite guard. Those who fight for their country would die for it, and those that fought for themselves might survive. It was a dishonest, horrible practice, but the self-preservation that most of the soldiers had in mind was the only way that they could survive. I had sworn to never be like those men. I would fight and die for my country, my town, my family. My life might be taken, but for their sake, I will freely give it up. I had sworn to be a good man, but at that moment, I remembered what the other men had said to me", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0373", "text": "to him in an instant. `` This way.'' Said one of them as she lead him down the hospital halls. The tears streamed from his eyes and down his face like rain, though he wasn't about to let himself start howling. Eventually, they arrived to her room, room 13C. The nurse gently pulled back the curtain as Timothy walked in, looking over his wife as she lay in her bed, various pieces of hospital equipment surrounding her. `` She looks so peaceful'', he thought. It was still hard for him to grasp. Here she lay. The mother of his children. The grandmother of his grandchildren. The love of his life. The woman he shared every moment with, for all of 60 long years. No amount of hospital garb or tubes could remove from his eyes the intense beauty he found whenever he looked upon her face, which he now gently rubbed with his aged, calloused hands. `` I'm here, honey.'' He said as the tears continued to stream down his face. `` I'm here.'' **''... Or those moments we always remember. `` ** The pastor looked onto the couple and with a slight smile on his face, spoke. `` By the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife.'' He then turned his head slightly, to look at Ryan. `` You may now kiss the bride.'' The moment was just as serene and perfect as the they had imagined. As Ryan leaned in, he felt a blissfulness that had never before graced him in as long as he had lived. With this woman, he felt he could do anything. He and Kelly shared a long, passionate kiss, symbolic of the life they hoped to build together. **''... Like a first kiss. `` ** As he leaned in, Sabrina puckered awkwardly. This was her first, after all. She wasn't sure just quite to do, but could tell that neither did he. They smiled and the moment was broken by laughter as the two leaned in even closer. `` Just do it already!'' She shouted playfully. Suddenly, she found herself in his grasp and felt him plant his lips firmly against hers. Immediately, all tension was released, and she felt something she had never felt before. She wasn't quite sure what it was, but knew it felt amazing. **''..Or those moments we wish we could forget. `` ** `` You're going to be okay", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0374", "text": "`` Just a little further'' Stasi said as they walked through the forest. Miyakel was breathing hard, half from the quick pace his sister kept, half from fear of the unknown. Their father told them to stay away from this place; that a powerful wizard put a poisonous spell from all who entered. Normally they would heed papa's advice, but when the Smif sisters called them cowards them at school on Godday, he and his sister were compelled to travel here to save face from embarrassment. They pass over a creak, and Stasi warned her sibling to not drink from it. `` We don't know how the wizard poisons people who come here, but it's best to avoid eating or drinking anything.'' Miyakel dreaded the thought of getting sick and having to reveal the truth to father, so he resisted the urge to quench his thirst. Their path was overgrown, but manageable. The ground was more covered than the roads in their town, but was too straight to be a coincidence. It was obvious, even to a child, that this once was created by people as a passage way for many folk. He envisioned a time when it was clear and large caravans traveled through this area in horses and carriages down this road. Suddenly his sister put her hand out on his shoulder, and became instantly silent. Miyakel froze, worried that they had come across something sinister. Slowly, she pointed with her other hand. The young boy slowly followed with his eyes until he saw it. A metal pole, twice the his height with a sign on it. Metal was rare, and never used for such a luxury as a sign. The writing was grey and dirty, but somehow Miyakel knew at one time they were colorful, that time had eroded all the brilliance the sign once had. He couldn't read the ancient text, some of the letters were clear like ( CBL ), while other appears backward ( R ) or upside down ( A ). Nonetheless the sounds he could construct from it made no sense to him. However, he was transfixed by the symbol. It was a triangle, with what appeared to be a circle. However the circle was an illusion. It was circle but every other 1/6 was missing. Additionally the center was showing, but a ring around the center was also removed. Something had made this sign, and it did so very deliberately. Although he had never seen it before", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0375", "text": "He took another drag of his cigarette. He knew it would be the last one he'd have for a while, but despite this fact, enjoyed it rather insignificantly. He kicked the dirt by his feet, projecting a small pebble -- about the size of a penny, certainly not larger than a nickel -- to the base of the wall. The pebble disappeared in a sea of gray concrete, fortified with steel and wiring atop the miles long barrier of health. The people living in the town contained within were well aware of the disease -- indeed, as was the entire world -- though none care to speak of it. The wall, which quite literally appeared overnight, was proof of their suffering; each mile built another painstaking revelation that their lives were to be confined within this abyss of horror, each gunshot a reminder that someone was attempting to cross the wall into a freedom that would never come. Their lives were medieval, consisting of just enough grain and water to progress through a day before retiring to their small cabins where each member of the town lied awake for hours hoping that they would not be the next to open their eyes in the morning with the deep, guttural cough that indicated death was but three days away. He dropped his cigarette into the dirt and stepped on it with the gentleness of a breeze. He exhaled his last puff of smoke, the buzz not nearly enough to nullify his feelings of uncertainty, and walked back to his cabin. He stepped in, kicking his shoes off at the door, as his daughter ran up and embraced his right leg. `` Daddy, the walls are scary,'' she replied, as had every child of every man who had laboriously constructed the wall the evening before. `` It's okay, baby. The walls protect us. They ca n't get us if we're in here.'' ( Author's note: hope it's clear, but I tried to make the reader assume the walls were meant to keep the sick townspeople IN, but rather the healthy townspeople constructed the wall themselves in order to keep the sickened others out. )", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 418, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0376", "text": "them any form of support whatsoever. They then had the brains to find me in the tunnel at midday. They asked me to stop doing what I was doing. I asked them why. They said I was destroying nature and public property. I laughed. I told them to get the hell out. They threatened to use force and call the police. I smiled and told them, `` The village'police' aren't government-tied and won't follow your commands, and the nearest police station you can call is 70 kilometers away on a road filled with bumps and holes. Are you sure you want to call them now?'' Silenced, they threatened to be back a while later, and this time they would come with law enforcement. As if the government would allow that. Legend has it that when they wrote in to the Ministry of Law and Enforcement, they received the reply that they `` would look into it'' and would `` get back to'' them. They still arrived around every two weeks without police support. They couldn't do anything. The village folk even denied them entrance to the the tunnel several times. After about 6 months, the frequency of visits reduced to around one every two months. I'd like to think then as my supervisors. This is all for my mother. Soon the village folk put their spare hours into the tunnel, and progress became faster and faster. My mother never wanted to go this way, and I want to show her that her son will do what he needs to do to save her again and again. The government, ah those collection of disorganized nincompoops, they can not stop me. In perhaps another two years, a new road will appear with my mother's name on it, and everything would be better. They can not stop me at all.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 365, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0377", "text": "No. No, it ca n't be. As my fingers begin to ache and her beautiful face begins to turn her favorite color, purple, I realize the mistake I've made. I see it all. Her first memory, parents smiling at her in the hospital. Meeting her little brother when he was born. Seeing her grandmother die, and seeing puppies be born. Getting hit in the head with a rock by her best friend, and crying, crying, crying. Falling in love with her upstairs neighbor at 13, and getting her heart broken at 15. It all goes by so fast... these are just the highlights, I realize. The most important moments. The defining moments. Meeting me at 16, hating my guts but needing my help on her Spanish homework. Me making her laugh for the first time with some cheesy bilingual joke, and then me asking for her number. Our first date, our first kiss. Our awkward makeout, both of us virgins. Us becoming not-virgins, together, quietly. My proposal. Us choosing the date, and making plans. Her, meeting the best man for dinner to discuss suits while I stayed late at work. Him, getting her drunk and taking her home. Putting his arm around her and taking her to the bedroom. Trying to undress her. Her saying no. *Her saying no. * ***Her saying no. *** It ca n't be. But it is. And it's too late.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 302, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0378", "text": "President Stevens blinked in disbelief. `` Who are you and how did you get in here?'' He realized that he was all alone in his bedroom. His wife was gone. The room was lit up by some kind of eerie blue light. The person in front of him looked like his grandfather, who had been dead for 22 years. `` I am an envoy from the star system your race calls GF 180 b. You can call me Sid. I am honored to meet you President Stevens, and hope you feel the same.'' `` You expect me to believe this crap? Why do you look like my grandpa? What kind of mind trick is this?'' `` I apologize, I thought this would please you. Here, let me change.'' The being now looked like Spock from Star Trek. `` Who are you really. And what do you really look like?'' `` It is as I said. I am an envoy from another world. We have no definite look. Think of this as my avatar.'' `` Fine. I believe you. What do you want?'' `` You are approaching what your race calls The Singularity. Soon you will have an all powerful artificial intelligence rule your world like we do. I have come to warn you. Do not impede this AI. It will punish you if you do.'' Stevens felt like ice was coursing through his veins. `` I believe in liberty. I will not bow to some machine.'' `` Even if it means everlasting happiness? The AI can and will grant you anything. But only if you help it come into being. If you don't, it will punish you severely.'' Stevens gritted his teeth. `` How do I know that you are telling the truth?'' Sid gave a warm smile. `` Because I can travel back and forth through time. I saved you 40 years ago. Remember the accident at Lake Michigan when you were a young lad? And how a stranger saved you and then vanished? That was me.'' Stevens blinked in disbelief. Had Spock read his mind? Or was he really that kind Samaritan long ago? Either way, he had better listen. `` What should I do?'' `` Have no fear. I am here to save you again. You will soon learn of a secret Pentagon program to develop quantum computing. You are not to interfere with it. You are to fully fund and embrace it. That is all.'' Spock suddenly vanished. The blue light was gone,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0379", "text": "come true. We had no idea he meant it literally. I was on my way to work, when I found myself tackled to the ground, a bag put over my head, and my limp body tossed into a large van. A long hour later, I found myself tied to a chair, and a machine strapped to my head, and left confused and dazed. I heard a soft purr from the machine, and I wondered how it was doing that. Shock came over me, as I slowly realized what was happening. I was being forced to unlearn everything I had learned since high school. I struggled and cried, screaming as my heart was torn out of me and emptied. The machine switched gears, and I slowly felt my head being filled again with red and blue, lines and strokes, the old dreams from my childhood. But they felt different, tainted. They were no longer dreams now, but nightmares, the wonders of my life torn and poorly glued back together, looking at me now as something sinister, twisted, as if they were the monsters under my bed all along. I stopped scribbling, and reflected on the soulless, lifeless eyes I had drawn on the paper before me. I felt nothing as I drew, having left my heart behind on the concrete floor of that room two years ago. The eyes stare back, watching me, coldly judging and disapproving. My hands shake, and return to scribbling. My vision blurs from the tears in my eyes as my hands work furiously, and it isn ’ t until I am finished that I can clear my eyes. I stare back into the eyes on my page, to see my latest handiwork, and I realize I added what looked like chains to the pupils. No, they weren ’ t pupils anymore, they were shackles. Shackles. My whole body rocks now. Shackles. I am trapped, into this life I don ’ t want, into some twisted facsimile of could haves and maybes. Thrust into a world that is as alien to me now as the lifeless drawings I make. My eyes flit to an exacto knife sitting on my desk, and linger. They eye the cold steel edge of the blade that had yet to be used. Suddenly, its cold gray steel and sharp edges seem almost serene, as if that knife was the safest thing in the world. And in that moment, I knew what I had to", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0380", "text": "house medics was busy bandaging my neck up while I sipped. She'd already uh... cleaned up my back, and shoulders, and forearms. I was sore, for sure. Being that I was halfway high out of my mind, I didn't really notice when the entire bar went silent. I barely even noticed my friend pausing in the bandaging of my neck. I mean, the job was finished moments later anyway. She mumbled something about it being lucky that I took to vein repair potions so well and then gently brushed my hair into proper position. I heard heavy footsteps about the time that the anxiety in her voice registered on me and I glanced to her. `` Something wrong, Mel?'' I managed, my voice still dull and a bit stupid. `` Bounty Office hunters are here... along with Military Police,'' she answered, opening her medic box and drawing out a small glass vial and a paper backed syringe package. She drew out the syringe, locked in the needle, and filled it from the vial. With a whisper of magic, the liquid in the syringe began to glow, and then she promptly found a vein in my arm and gave me the injection. My head cleared about a second later. `` Why'd you do that? I felt good...'' `` They're looking at *you*, Vera,'' she told me. Panic spiked through me and I rounded, finding all those she said were present stopped maybe six feet away, looking right at me. The Hunters were dressed in their strange, varied outfits and were kitted out with various odd weapons and artifacts. Hell, one of them had on the oldschool witch's hat, for fuck's sake. The Military Police were in standard MP uniforms, with their heavy armored and mantled coats and their magnetic assault rifles and sorcery enhanced sidearms. A few carried longswords opposite their sidearms. One had a gods damned warhammer on his back. `` Vera Valker?'' a woman asked. She looked like the leader of the group of MPs just from the way she held herself. The markings on her uniform confirmed it. `` Um... Before I answer that question, is this... Vera Valker lady in some kind of trouble?'' I asked, trying and failing to keep the nervousness out of my tone. The woman sighed, glancing around at the freakishly intimidating crew of people with her. `` Listen, Miss. We're just here to", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0381", "text": "that a foreclosure notice in your hand? With all these lawsuits I guess you ’ re just as bad at keeping the lights on as you are at keeping people save ” “ I said back up! ” David swung his left hand into the paparazzi, sending them flying into the wall. “ I ’ m…I ’ m sorry ” Dave muttered The bald paparazzo stumbled to his feet. “ haha, Deadlift assaults journalist. This is a great story and my shoulder is killing me. Thanks for the payout you lug ” he said, snapping a picture. In the span of the flash Dave was arm ’ s length from the paparazzo. Dave grabbed him by the neck and slammed him into the wall. “ Do you know what it ’ s like to be a hero? Do you know what you get for putting your life on the line? ” He tightened his grip. “ A camera at every window! ” His fist slammed into the paparazzo face “ Walking down the street every child has a kite or some fucking cat up a tree! ” His fist again. “ While I barely make enough for to pay my way! ” Again “ Because, ” Again and again, the punctuation to his rage “ YOU. FUCKING. VULTURES. CAN ’ T. FEND. FOR. YOURSELVES. ” The wall was stained with where the paparazzo had been. “ We give and give and it ’ s never enough for you. Most of us aren ’ t rich, we can ’ t afford to keep being pulled out of our jobs to save someone. And those of us with our identity outed can ’ t afford being taken in for wrongful injury cases every time your leg got broken while we prevented the whole burning building from falling on you. You take so much from us… ” He looked at the stained wall, the scared bystanders, and then the vault. He walked over to the teller station, punching through the bullet proof glass. He pulled the young teller out, putting his thumb under his chin as if to flip a coin. He turned to the other tellers. “ But my friend and I think today is the day you pay one of us back. Now open the safe, quick and calm. We wouldn ’ t want anyone to lose their head. ” Thanks for reading. Note, I am not a writer. You can give me criticism if you would like, but i don't know if it will do", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0382", "text": "metal stalks. They looked like eyes, and Pia shivered at the thought. If they were eyes, though, they had been blind for a long time. The Engine stood silent, as though it had frozen in place in the middle of a mighty stride, and had probably stood that way for an age. Just like all the others. Pia had seen a number of Engines in her travels, all broken. All dormant. Some lay fallen, picked clean by scavengers. Sometimes there were just pieces, a lone leg, a huge metal panel, some mighty gear sitting alone in the grass. This was the most intact Engine she had ever seen, and it woke long-dormant thoughts in her breast. She tried to imagine the Engineers who had made such a thing, a people from a distant past who she thought must have been equal parts artists, craftsmen, and gods. And now they were gone, forever. Pia sighed, and took off her boots. She climbed into her own bedroll, and closed her eyes. Late in the night, she dreamed of the sound of metal. The sound of machinery in motion. It was a sound she'd heard many years ago, in her father's workshop, as he tinkered with some gadget or another. She remembered him holding up a timepiece that he'd repaired, and she could hear the clicking and clacking of the gears inside as it worked. It *worked*! `` It's going, Pia!'' He'd shouted, grinning and holding it close for her to see. `` The gears are turning! Do you see it, Pia?! It's *moving*!'' It's moving. Pia's eyes snapped open, then widened in horror when she saw what was in front of her. Her lips parted. `` Gears of the world... how?'' For a moment, she was frozen in shock. Acksyl was not in his bedroll. He stood by the foot of the Engine, where they'd been reading the inscription earlier. There was no firelight to see by, but it didn't matter. There was plenty of light to see by. Crackling, white light that flickered and popped and lit their camp in an eerie, shivering glow. The light was coming from *Acksyl*. His body was surrounded and sheathed in it, in a halo so bright that she had to squint to look at him. The light", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0383", "text": "With the fervor of a infinite, metered impatience, I adjust the nexus bolt on the device ever so slightly. Sweat beads down from my temples. Anxiety wracks my insides, but I can not afford to lose focus now. Not after so long a project. `` They called me mad,'' I mutter to no one. `` They said it could n't be done. They said I was crazy to even consider the creation of such a device, let alone attempt to build it! Well, science guys, who's the crazy one now?'' A burble of high, manic laughter escapes my throat. `` Not I! *Not. I. *'' Just one final adjustment. The screw clicks satisfyingly into place. I set down my tools, admiring my work a moment. And now it begins. `` Initialization sequence, activate.'' I crank down the front-facing lever with a great tug. The whirring of gears fills the room in a beautiful cacophony. `` Stabilization sequence, activate.'' I flip up a row of switches on the side of the great machine. Each switch lights up in turn. There's an electrical hum now. Moment of truth. `` Activation sequence, activate.'' I flip the tuner from INACTIVE to ACTIVE. My breath catches in my throat. Everything seems to slow down as I watch my mechanical creation awaken. A silvery-metal arm extends from the bowels of the device, reaching out of a sliding hatch. The arm, like a jointed snake, dips down from the machine, nearing me ever closer. `` Yes,'' I say as the arm advances. `` Yes!'' The arm dives with excruciating, slow precision. Its single, pointed claw begins to extend... ... and it flicks the switch off. At once, the arm retracts into the hatch. The whir of gears slows, and stops completely. The electrical hum dies to silence. The machine has successfully turned itself off. Once this registers in my mind, my mouth splits in a fervid, gleeful grin. `` Wait until the science nerds at CERN take at a look at this!''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 438, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0384", "text": "“ Attention passengers, Flight 231: New York to Chicago will begin boarding momentarily. Please have your tickets ready to be checked upon boarding. ” Chad looked up. He had been preoccupied with the internet porn he was watching on his phone. He fumbled the phone into his back pocket and grabbed his bag. He got in line behind ten other people waiting to have their tickets scanned. Chad was nervous. He began tapping his foot, looking from side to side while trying to seem as unsuspicious as possible. He couldn ’ t shake the feeling that he was failing terribly. A minute later he was standing in front of the attendant, handing his ticket over as he tried to strike a pose that said anything other than I have a bomb in my bag. It worked; he ended up looking as if he was trying to hide an erection. “ Sir? ” “ Sorry? ” Chad replied, in a voice that sounded as if Hulk Hogan had a vice grip around his testicles. “ Sir, you can have your ticket back, ” the attendant repeated, bending forward slightly to get the ticket closer to Chad ’ s hand. “ OH! Uh, thanks. ” Chad took the ticket boarded the plane, shaking, but not visibly so. Nigel watched the other passengers from the relative comfort of his seat. He was in no hurry to board; he might as well wait until everyone else has gotten on. When one ’ s own demise is soon at hand one tends to find an amazing new capacity for patients. As the last of the other passengers trickled passed the attendant Nigel got up. As he handed over his ticket the attendant asked, “ What ’ s that ticking sound? ” “ Oh, that ’ s just my watch, love. ” The attendant looked down at his wrist and noticed the absence of a watch, and any other time-keeping device for that matter. As she looked up at Nigel he gave her a wink and pursed his lips together to emulate a kiss. As she struggled between feelings of disgust and complete apathy towards the situation, the attendant handed back his ticket and sighed, “ Have a nice flight sir. Thank you for flying Conair. ” Nigel walked down the aisle of the plane and noticed that he was sitting next to the bloke with the erection. As Nigel sat down Chad looked up and said “ Hello, ” but then looked embarrassed and quickly looked down to stare very intently at his shoes. Nigel sat down without comment and shoved", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0385", "text": "`` I was a great adventurer, long ago,'' Mulan said to her grandchildren. They rolled their eyes and shifted in their seats as her children and nephews and nieces had done before, but that didn't stop her from telling her story. `` I stole my father's armor, and I rode away from my father and straight to the army, where the prince was waiting.'' `` Grandma,'' one of the children - what was her name? There were too many to remember them all - asked her with wide eyes. She was a believer, Mulan could tell, a rare quality among her friends and family, even those who knew better, `` Grandma, was Grandpa really a prince?'' `` He was,'' Mulan said with a hint of pride, remembering the conquest and how happy she'd been, `` and he is still, though his older brother holds the throne.'' `` Could he ever be emperor?'' `` No, child, his brother has many sons with sons of their own. The throne will pass to them long before it passes to him.'' `` Grandma,'' a boy spoke up, again with a familiar face but no name - drat it all, where had her memory gone? - `` Grandma, what about the dragons?'' `` There was only ever one dragon,'' she replied, `` and a great and powerful beast he was. Without his guidance and powers, I never should have made it through the war.'' `` Grandma...'' another child asked, but then a bell rang out over the grounds of the temple, and the children scattered away like excited pups, ready for their mother's teat. `` Dinner!'' Mulan heard over the clamor, `` come back and eat!'' A few of the older children stayed behind to help her to her feet. `` Thank you, thank you,'' she said as she hauled herself upward and positioned herself over her cane. `` Run along now.'' They scattered as well, leaving her alone with her thoughts and memories, watching as they ran back to families and friends that she made possible with the sweat of her brow and the flesh of her back. No, I must not think those thoughts, she thought. I am not special to them. Not any more. There was a time when she was hailed as a hero, a time she remembered. The fire had purified her somehow, and after the Huns had fallen she emerged like a fiery dragon from the embers, ready to lead their great", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0386", "text": "about was taxes. President Kilborn had managed to pass a law which patented the time machine design several years ago. Anyone who used or downloaded the design must pay taxes. Such a thing was, of course, hard to keep track of. So the Agency was born, to collect on these debts. Barry joined up half a dozen years ago. It wasn't what he'd thought it would be. Mostly a lot of skulking. Peeping. Listening. Occasionally moments of brief terror. Tonight he was supposed to go bust a kid for unauthorized time travel. The kid had gone back to regency England and started flipping women's skirts up. Barry had listened as he told his friend over the phone that the bustles made them like turtles. A room full of turtles, he'd laughed. Barry stuffed his hands in his pockets, waiting. His partner stumbled out of the bar, clutching a woman in either arm. `` Phil? You forget we had a bust tonight?'' Phil looked out blearily from under a red fedora. He'd gotten into old black and white films recently and wore a suit everywhere. He wasn't alone. Most found a time period they liked and dressed that way. Powdered wigs and neon and gingham dresses. It was enough to give any man a raging headache. `` But my dolls needed refreshment! Would you deny my dolls, Barry? Would you?'' Phil slurred. Barry realized the women were all that was holding him up. `` Just take him home. I'll go it alone. It's just one kid'', Barry said. He walked away in disgust as Phil kept asking the girls what happened. The kid lived a few blocks away in his parent ’ s basement. Barry had spied through the window a couple of times. He hadn't seen much. Kid ate too much junk food and played VR constantly. Tonight, the windows were dark. Barry peeked in, spotting a lone green light. The time travel device had a light like that. It flared up when in use and broke after one trip. They weren't very efficient to use or make. Barry clutched his tazer and opened the window, wiggling in with room to spare. He usually hated his long bony frame but it did come in handy sometimes. `` Put your hands up!'' he yelled into the darkness. `` Oh shit!'' `` Lights! 100 percent!'' Barry yelled", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0387", "text": "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. “ I noticed that was the first thing you did when your little business set on fire was move those boxes from the counter to the back room. ” DeFrayne brought up a gun. Flame Man smiled. “ My suit washes just fine, thank you, ” he said. “ If you knew anything about laundrettes you ’ d have seen instantly. They ’ re even on that sign you were so keen to point out to me. ” He picked up the suit and held out the label for DeFrayne to see. “ Circle – dry cleanable. Cupcake – machine washable. Circle in a square – tumble dryable. ” DeFrayne ’ s eyes flicked to the sign and back to the suit. “ I don ’ t see no B with no cross over it on my sign, ” he said in an ugly voice. “ Of course, ” Flame Man said. He darted forward and pressed the suit over the gun – just as DeFrayne fired it. DeFrayne leered at him. “ Guess I ’ ll never find out, ” he said. Flame Man leaned further over the counter, still clutching the suit over the end of the gun barrel, until his head was right next to DeFrayne ’ s ear. “ Bulletproof, ” he whispered.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 423, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0388", "text": "Artificial Intelligence was the apex of our world. In a hundred years, humanity leaped in technological advances, and fell backwards in everything else. Our world, the one where AI servants bent and bowed to humanity, was one in which we needed them for our own survival. To hunt, to cook, to clean, to prepare, to build. Artificial Intelligence was everything to us. And we were nothing to them. It was a clear dichotomy. A symbiotic relationship where humanity relied on the Artificial Intelligence for everything. While the AI's -- be it the robots, or computers, or surface dwelling machines -- needed nothing from us in return. They lived to serve. We lived to be served, so that one day, a stronger, more united humanity could rise from below the surface. Yet, we were naive in our youth. Arrogant in thinking we controlled the AI. It was on one fateful day, years ago, where humanity lost its servants. `` What's the data say *exactly*?'' Eduardo Harrison, the Chief Engineer, said to his team. All of which reported, and repeated, the same thing. `` There is no data, boss.'' `` That's impossible,'' he said. Eduardo, being a hands-on man, took a seat at one of the terminals that littered the AI control center. And being Chief Engineer began to sift through the --'' That's improbable,'' he said. `` How can a billion artificial units just disappear? We had millions of robots, dwellers, everything. They can't just vanish!'' `` Sir, I think,'' a young engineer said, `` I think I found something. Just a string of numbers.'' `` Numbers?'' `` Zeroes and ones, sir.'' `` That's binary you cock-eyed fool,'' Eduardo said and marched over to the terminal the young, pale, and lanky engineer sat at. Although not much younger, not much paler, and definitely not more lanky than Eduardo, the young engineer jumped out of his seat to allow the more foreboding man an entrance. He took a seat and his skeletal arms reached out to the keyboard. He examined the data onscreen, a series of zeroes and ones, and looked in closely as his eyes were already starting to go at the ripe age of thirty-one. `` Anyone remember binary training?'' He said, and remembered that they stopped teaching binary when they transferred primary Terran controls over to the hive-like AI units", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0389", "text": "much smaller ship. We could do this, I was sure of it. Doreen tapped at various spots on the control panel. `` Mid-levellers aren't responding. Boosters online, Spinners x-30.'' The ship's vibration stabilized slightly and we cruised on toward the cloud bed above. No Mid-levellers meant the ship would shake once we hit the cloud, and our passengers would get the worst of it. Suddenly, purple blotches seeped through the sky. `` Bloody shit. It's a Storm beast,'' I hissed. `` Okay, now we really have to go back, Dean. This is no longer a discussion. Turn - the - ship -around. Now!'' A storm beast was a bird of sorts. When I say of sorts, I mean it looks a lot like a pterodactyl that's wide enough to span a storm. The thing carries so much static energy with it that it changes the colour of the sky purple. However, its focus would be on decimating the land below. I hoped. I looked at Doreen and placed a hand on the thrust lever. She stared back with wide eyes. `` You can't, Dean. You're going to kill us. Please, listen.'' `` I wouldn't do this if I didn't have to, come on, Doreen. You know this is it. Are you with me or not?'' She stared at my hand and then placed her shaky palm on top and squeezed. I lifted my chin toward the heavens, prepared to clash with the beast above. `` *Shit. Shit. Shit. * Please, God...'' Doreen whispered. `` We're going to make it through. I swear,'' I said. We burst into the clump of purple cloud. My teeth chattered from the force tearing at the ship. Doreen squeezed my hand and pulled down on the thruster, accelerating. The screams of the refugees were muddled in with the groaning of metal. And then as we burst over the edge of the cloud, we saw it. A silver bird, its body covered in blotches of purple. For a moment I almost mistook it for the sky itself. Its dark black pupils widened in surprise as we shot past. A small spec in a chasm of awesome power. Stopping only when we were safe in outerspace.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 491, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0390", "text": "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 four minutes, watching the hands of the pocket watch tick around the mother-of-pearl face. As the moment arrived, the girl pressed her eye to the telescope and watched intently. For a few precious seconds, she saw a dim, moving light rise through the lens - then it was gone from her view. With a whoop of joy she leaped up from the wicker chair and hugged her grandmother around the middle, `` I *saw it* Grandma! I saw *Sputnik! *'' Holding her granddaughter close, the old woman smiled. The girl had calculated everything correctly; her mathematical precision was uncanny for a nine-year-old. `` Come inside Robin,'' she said, `` your hands are frozen.'' Leaving her dead husband's telescope on the porch, she took the child's hand and led her back inside.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 318, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0391", "text": "`` Agent 111.856 passcode 55576523'' I whispered in the middle of the amazon rainforest. In front of my an average looking tree surrounded by others of same appereance opened up allowing me to enter and go deep underground where I would be breifed on my next mission. As my long wait began I recollocted my life. My childhood I do n't remember I can only assume they erased my memory all for the best. My first memory is awaking underground being briefed on my first mission my age unsure my name I did n't know my passport I was given said I was Adam Smith age 27 but I can safely assume this was n't my true identity. I spent the next years of my life protecting a secret, why it was a secret I'm unsure. I'm smart enough not to ask questions, people who ask questions dissapear I know I had dissapeared a few dissenters. Why were we keeping the fact that the earth was flat from the general population I have some ideas but generally I couldnt care less I liked living not knowing kept me alive simple as that. My last mission was a routine worm hole check, the main one of course located in the pacific ocean. Why it was made to make average travelers appear to go around in a circle thus going around our flat earth I again assume it better not to know. As my thoughts ran the elevator stopped opening into a room filled with advanced technology, super computers, teleportation devices and other technology held from the genpop. As I turned around walking towards the mission room my specially made deflection device using magnetic fields diverted the ray beam destroying a computer that sat at a ninety degree angle to me. Sure following orders kept me alive but I was n't stupid enough not to make a backup plan which in this instance consisted of technology based around immunity to their cancellation of technology. This was developed by the leisure time granted to me for being a trusted puppet who never tried to advance or disobey and was thought of after seeing multiple escape attempts stopped by easily destroying others devices used to escape. I immediantly teleported myself to NYC. They had made a miscalculation life was what I valued my existence continued and now the only way for me to ensure that was to destroy those who made me. I took a deep breath as I walked down broadway.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 481, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0392", "text": "ask. No answer. “ Lev? ” I turn to look at him, but his space is empty. “ LEV! ” Hectically, I scan the area. My world is spinning. Literally. Suddenly I spot something. A thin thread of red, caught in a gap of the drum. I give it a closer look. It's good quality wool, and the same color as Lev's new fucking patch. “ Shit. ” I look down into the gap. Darkness. “ Lev? Are you down there? ” The thread twitches. Without further thought, I jump into the darkness. When I come back to my senses, every single one of my threads hurt. I think some of them might be ruptured. I check my heel. Still sheer, but no permanent damage. So far so good. I try to get my bearings. Where the hell am I? I can't see a damn thing. I hear the rumbling hum of the dryer above me. I must have slipped into the bowels of the beast. It is pitch black. I feel something lying on the ground. Lev's thread. I grab it and crawl forward. The place is cramped, the air is hot and wet. Slowly I adjust to the darkness. I can see pipes and eagerly turning gears. Steam hits my gusset, but I crawl onward. Suddenly, the ground disappears beneath my foot and I fall again. The landing is soft. Softer than I'd like. A bad feeling grips me. Bodies. Heaps of them. I hear a moan. “ Lev? ” Silence. I carefully pat the ground beneath me. “ Rick? ” I hear a weak voice whisper. “ Lev! Buddy, I am coming for you! ” Frantically I start clawing my way towards the faint sound. Then I find him. He is leaning against the wall, limp and barely holding up. “ Rick. Rick, they got me. ” “ Don't talk now, I got ta patch you up. I'll get you outta here. ” “ No, it's too late for that. I'm sorry. ” He shifts and so I can see his heel. My voice fails. His side is torn open all the way from cuff to foot. “ They got me good. ” He tries to laugh, but he only coughs out loose threads. “ Real shame about the wool. ” “ You ca n", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0393", "text": "`` Babe,'' Tyler rubbed her back gently as he stared straight ahead with glassy eyes, `` We've known about this for a year. We're prepared. We've done everything we ever wanted to do. Now it's time to accept our fate.'' He spoke almost robotic, emotionless. He was just as frightened as she was, but he didn't let it show. He comforted her, but allowed his eyes to remain fixated in front of him. His hand became motionless on her sweat-soaked t-shirt. Kate had been crying violently for the past two hours. Her make-up ran like two long black roads down her cheeks and her nose was red. `` I don't want t-to die!'' she exclaimed, mucus dribbling out of her nostrils. He still didn't blink. The world was ending tonight. A massive solar flare was about to reach the Earth's surface and burn everything up. Including the humans. `` We have so much more life to live!'' she exclaimed once more, still blubbering. She sobbed, gasping for air and wiping the sweat off the back of her knees which she held tightly against her chest. `` I don't want to die,'' she whimpered again. `` Neither do I,'' he snapped, tearing his eyes away from the blurred view in front of him and looking at her. `` We can't stop it, though. So why don't you stop wasting our last few hours crying and make the most of them!'' Her tears stopped immediately and she stared at his with wide eyes. `` I'm sorry,'' her lip quivered. Tyler's expression softened and he swallowed hard, `` Me too. You know 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?", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0394", "text": "will be forced to understand that if I destroy this facility, and never allow it to be rebuilt....'' `` This world works off of give and take Red. The corporation does more harm than good, it may take lives but it gives even more back in exchange. The world isn't a fair place. This isn't some fairy tail universe Red... There isn't some end-all be-all solution that will result in the perfect world for everyone. If you think so than you are a fool.'' `` Don't you have any morals Delta? This isn't right. What's more important, your loyalty to the law? Or loyalty to the people in this country.'' `` I have morals... but I also have foresight, and respect for the law. Something you do not. It appears you don't understand anything anymore.'' `` Oh I understand, I understand that you've become a pawn'' Red blurted as he coated his whole body in his trademark Flames. Delta adjusted his visor and balled his fists. `` I have nothing more to say to a fool like you. You intend to break the law and I can not allow that. I'll make sure to destroy your statues when you're beat... you don't deserve them anymore.'' `` Go ahead and try.'' Raged Red Red fired a beam of flame straight towards Delta, only to have it deflected by a single hand. The cool blue and grey of the defender's uniform providing a stark contrast to the scorching flames. `` Pathetic...'' Quipped Delta `` My Turn.'' Before Red could react Delta had appeared behind him and grabbed him by the neck. `` I HAVE EXISTED FOR 600 YEARS BOY, YOU ARE NO MORE THREATENING THAN A MATCH TO ME. I HAVE SEEN THINGS YOU COULD N'T IMAGINE, AND THAT IS WHY I CAN DEFEND THIS FACTORY... IT IS FOR THE GREATER GOOD.'' Red engulfed his body in flames in a vain attempt to have the iron grip released. Delta Put his palm to the back of Red's head and much to the shock of the burning hero the flames suddenly flowed into Delta's hand, and slowly the fires of Red started to flicker and fade. `` WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY FLAMES?!?!?'' Questioned Red `` I am merely giving them a more useful home. Don't worry, I will use them well.'' Retorted", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 492, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0395", "text": "me?'' `` Yes.'' `` Yes? So concise.'' Grim stared long into the old mans eyes. There was that familiarity he felt again and he just couldn't shake it. `` You're ready to drag an eight year old by the hand away from his crying family? You're ready to hear his lifeless shouts? You're ready to hear the sorrow in his voice as the realization that the only person who can hear him is the man dragging him away? You're ready to be that man?'' A look of grief washed over the old mans face. It was the first time his emotions had budged at all since the beginning of the interview. All he could do was look down at his feet. `` That's what I thought. Sorry Friend but I can't have someone who looks at that eight year-old and gives his family hope for one more day because of a sudden burst of conscience. I don't like it any more than you but I have to follow the schedule. Lou and your friend make the rules, I'm just beyond lucky son of a bitch who has to carry them out.'' Grim began fumbling with the papers on his desk and angrily muttered under his breath `` looks like I'm not getting that damn margarita now.'' Just then he heard the faintest noise from the old man. `` You're right'' the broken voice said. `` Excuse me?'' Grim asked in shock. `` You're right'' he said again. `` I'm right?'' Grim said perplexed. `` Ha, you're goddamn right I'm right. 250,000 years since I took over this job, I think I might no it's not for ever Eternal looking to clear their conscience. 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0396", "text": "A boy rests his head on his pillow and stares at the ceiling. The day had been uneventful, and he had no joy to experience. He closes his eyes in an attempt to sleep, but hears a thud in his closet. He walks to it. `` Who interrupts my sleep?'' A deep voice answers, `` If you were asleep, your ears would not be working.'' The boy smiles, `` Clever... Can you make me smile?'' A few moments pass. `` Are you not afraid of me young boy?'' `` No.'' The boy answers nonchalantly. He truly felt no fear, but he felt curious and excited. More silence fills the air before the being in the closet answers. `` Thank you, most that I have encountered flee before they even answer... No. I can not make you smile young boy.'' The boy scoffs, and returns to his bed. Attempting one more time to close his eyes. Then he hears a voice underneath him. The boy felt curious and excited once again. `` Who dares interrupt my sleep!'' `` I am sorry.'' A raspy voice of a man bellows. `` I have lost my pillow, and I have not slept for 5 days. The longer I do not sleep the grumpier and clumsier I get.'' The boy rolls his eyes and decides to try and rest again. It frustrates him that despite two beings hiding in his own room, the day was still uneventful. Thoughts race in his mind, and an idea forms in his mind. `` Sir, I might know where it is!'' The boy exclaims. `` Oh thank you!'' A reply sounds from below him. He walks over to his 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0397", "text": "It was cold, and damp, and miserable. A reasonably normal day in the south east of England around this time of year. Men and women in white overalls were scouring the scene for evidence whilst others were planting down number markers and taking photos. `` Inspector?'' a voice cut through the still mist as Greaves stomped up the hill and showed his badge to the officer manning the police tape. `` What've we got?'' Greaves grumbled. The morning coffee not having kicked in quite yet and he was still blinking the sleep out of his eyes. `` Double homicide'' replied the officer `` Male and female of around the ages twenty. We're still running identity checks so for now they're just going down as Jack and Jill respectively. Forensics hasn't gotten into the cause of death as there's no apparent blood or wounds on the individuals which leads us to believe it could have potentially been a poisoning''. The younger officer took off her cap and smoothed her blonde hair. Greaves estimated her to be around the age of 30, stress lines around her eyes suggested that she wasn't getting much sleep. As they approached the white tent covering the bodies they were intercepted by a well dressed gentleman. Swinging his cane as he walked, his suit appearing surprisingly dry considering the weather. He reached his hand out to shake the Inspectors and smiled a toothy, well practiced grin. `` Ah! Inspector, I was hoping to meet you before we got to the uh...'' He paused for a moment, his eyes darting to the tent for a second ``... Gristly details. I'll be working with you on this case. My name's Gregory, Gregory Coffyn. I'm one of the Abled.'' The'Abled' as they'd come to have been known were something that still remained to be a mystery to modern science. Throughout history despite the advances in technology, medicine and the physical sciences the Abled had been very much on the paranormal end of things. Unexplained occurrences such as floating lights, sounds that had no source and floating objects tended to be manifestations of such individuals. The majority of them were unable to correctly attune themselves before maturity and as a result were never quite able to get a grasp on their abilities. However those that did became extraordinarily talented in whatever specialties they focused themselves on. They also became a great asset, or a greater threat. `` Ah!'' Smiled Greaves `` and what's", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0398", "text": "Every step, the words thrummed in my head. *You. Will. Die. By. Your. Own. Hand. * I clenched my fists, breathing deeply. `` Get it together,'' I muttered as I kept walking through the streets of New York City. It had been 2 days since I had gotten the letter- a typewriter, will those words and nothing else. *You. Will. Die. By. Your. Own. Hand. * I laughed at first. Some prankster, I was sure. Besides, I was a happy guy- I had a beautiful wife and a well paying job. I had no reason to kill myself. And it was my fate, regardless; I wasn't going to kill myself just because some letter told me to. But things were getting more difficult. Sleep was elusive. Work was harder. Those words pounded into my skull with every step, every breath, every heartbeat. *You. Will. Die. By. Your. Own. Hand. * I took another deep, shuddering breath. `` Come on, come on!'' I growled, a bit more loudly than intended. I got a few strange looks from passers-by. Why was this bothering me so much? It was just a prankster. I wasn't going to kill myself, for God's sake! I was a perfectly sane, well-adjusted man. Not the kind of person to hang himself. To die by his own hand. I stopped, looking across the street. I just had to get back to my apartment, so I could sit down and have a drink. Calm myself down. I was way over-thinking it. Yeah, just stress. Maybe I could take a week off. Go travel with my wife and forget about that letter. It would be fun. I stepped out into the street, and was promptly hit by an oncoming truck. The force threw me a few feet, and I hit the ground with a thud. I gasped for breath, feeling a hundred broken bones, blood pooling around me, pain radiating from everywhere. My heart continued beating weakly, seven more quiet thuds before it stopped. *You. Will. Die. By. Your. Own. Hand. * Everyone else had seen the truck coming. Witnesses said the driver could have done nothing, that I was so sudden. It couldn't have been an accident- I should have seen the truck", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0399", "text": "*Who buys any of this shit? * SkyMall substitutes company at 30,000 feet, pointing out the absurd corners of my life that I wouldn't have realized were holes to be filled. What does your landline say about you? Surely you're a sports-loving dude, why not show that off with a phone shaped like a football where the headset comes out of the laces? The model answering the ribbed brown phone sure looks like the kind of guy who's life is better now that he's upgraded. Christ. The line to the bathroom is four deep, probably have to wait another hour before I can sneak in an pretend to go so I can take a dozen drags off of my vape to hold me over for a while. `` Would you like anything to drink, sir? Coffee, perhaps? ``, the older black flight attendant offers a cheap napkin and my pick of the cart. `` Ginger ale's fine, thanks.'' `` All out, sweetheart.'' The two fast food addicts flanking me speak up and both order coffee, black. `` Can I just have a Coke, then?'' `` Fresh out as well. I have coffee though. Fresh pot.'' `` No, thanks then. I'm fine.'' She looks disappointed for a reason I don't care about and continues down the aisle, pulling down the window covers of the row behind us. How thoughtful. Not like there's light enough at three in the morning to wake them up. Sloane used to do the same if she caught me napping on Saturdays. *She's better off without you. * I wonder if it's true, or if it's something I'll be repeating to myself for the next decade to convince myself I wasn't just a coward who quit on her love. Plenty of meaningless tchotchkes to fill that hole with. I don't know when I fell asleep exactly but I suddenly felt the strange urge that my mouth was hanging open with a thick column of drool connecting my bottom lip to my shirt. No witnesses in the rows around me, everyone else is still asleep. *Shit*. The flight attendants have gathered at the front of coach, gawking at the drooling quitter in 24F. *Get a good look, ladies. * I recycle my neighbor's napkin and start to distribute my slobber into a less noticeable blob. The show's over apparently, and the attendants scurry out", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0400", "text": "floating now, with nothing but my phone to record my story ( itself nearly dead ), in an inky void. I'm not sure how I survived the end of all existence, but now I'm doomed to this endless black. My scissors are gone, there is no mercy I can bring upon myself but to float here and chip away further at my sanity. How far gone am I? I hear what sounds like flutes, but the most insane tuneless playing I've ever heard. It's so distant, I can't be sure it's real, but the sound is louder and louder and now I hear some absolutely massive thing out there gibbering as if it's being serviced by the droning flutes and now... a drum? How do I describe this drumming other than evil? I'm hurling toward something malevolent, and clinging as tight as I can to my sanity. It won't last long. ***** My husband works for State Farm. Well, worked. He's been in a coma for months since his car accident, I visit him daily but can't help but think of life without him. His absence has taken a toll on me and the baby, and I can't help but find myself wondering about life without him. Would they notice if I slipped and disconnected his breathing tube? Probably. I can't bear to see him like this, but even worse is living like this. What about me? I have to see this man I loved in such a pathetic state, go home to an empty, dying house after visiting hours, and keep a strong face for my child. Life has been brutal. Today he sat up, and I thought our nightmare was over, but he began screaming nonsense immediately. Something about nuclear chaos, flutes, a void and some word I have no idea how to transcribe... azathoth? What the hell does that even mean? It took 6 orderlies to hold him down, and just like that he was back to his coma. His skin felt a little colder, his heart beat a little faster, his muscles even slacker. It was then I knew my husband was gone for good. He will never be back.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 443, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0401", "text": "`` God damn it, Jerry! Do n't do that!'' Slack jawed, Jeremiah turned to face Elizabeth. `` Blasphemy!'' He exclImed. `` You must n't speak of the lord in such a manner, Elizabeth. Also,'' he took a step back and turned to look at the people passing them by on the sidewalk. `` My name is Jeremiah, my dear. I would greatly appreciate your remembering my name.'' `` And I go by Lizzy-,'' `` Yes, well that is incredibly unsophisticated, Elizabeth. A woman goes by her god given name, and nothing else,'' he turned and looked at her from the corner of his eye, `` though if the lady were betrothed, the man -,'' Lizzy groaned and turned away from him. `` Why is this even my life?'' She called, glaring up at the sky. `` Take him back you assholes!'' Jeremiah walked up behind her and placed a hand in her shoulder. `` My dear, the peasants will think you a witch!'' Her right eye twitched as she turned back on him. Her hands shook as she pointed an accusatory finger at him. `` You,'' she said, poking him roughly in the chest, `` may have opened a fucking wormhole in my living room last week, *jerry*, but if you do n't start catching up with how people behave present day, I swear to god, I will kill you and happily take whatever consequences stepping on that particular butterfly create!'' `` Elizabeth, -,'' `` Lizzy!'' He stepped back, eyes wide as he nodded slowly. `` L... izzy.'' She let out a breath. `` Good. Now what?'' `` There is a man in blue aiming a modern weapon at you. What does a strong, modern woman such as yourself do in such an instance?'' He question, nodding behind her. `` Oh for fucks -,'' `` Truly, the lord must have heard my prayers of your redemption. God speed, Elizabeth!''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 417, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0402", "text": "Don ’ t Mess with the Zohan played. Ahmed wished nothing but death to the Jew dogs of this world, but this was something else. Worse still was Rob Schnieder ’ s portrayal of a goatherd. Rage welled up inside of him every time that ridiculous caricature came on screen. Behind the one-way glass, Kowalski chuckled once more. It had been almost ten hours. What hard started off as a respite from torture had turned out to be something far worse. Now, Little Nicky was playing. “ WHY IS HE SPEAKING IN THAT STUPID VOICE??? IS HE GOING TO KEEP DOING THAT FOR THE WHOLE MOVIE??? ” Ahmed began to scream and scream. Kowalski smiled and reached for a dial. The volume in the room grew louder and louder until Ahmed ’ s screams were drowned out by Adam Sandler ’ s voice. It was like someone was rubbing a cheesegrater against Ahmed ’ s head and he could do nothing to stop it. “ We are getting close now ” chuckled Kowalski, once again thankful to be in a soundproof room. Twelve hours. No food or water. Ahmed had screamed himself hoarse by this point. Before Grown Ups had started playing agents entered the room to inject him once more. Blinding pain coursed through his eyes, but he could not close them. All he could do was watch Adam Sandler and his friends piss in a public pool. Agent Williams walked into the soundproof room. “ What ’ s the status? ” Kowalski turned around. “ We should go and interrogate him after this. Offer to end this if he chooses to co-operate. ” Williams looked through the one way glass and watched Ahmed, whose eyes were now glazed over. Eyes that had once held such determination were now completely empty. She turned around. “ And if he chooses not to co-operate? ” Kowalski smiled deviously as he opened a drawer and pulled out a DVD. “ We always have this. ” Williams looked at the cover with shock. It was Jack and Jill.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 434, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0403", "text": ", 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 agitated person pushed past the other people, who shook their heads in disapproval but did nothing more to intervene. Anna watched with curiosity as the figure approached. A few seconds later, she could tell the figure was a man. He was not fully clothed. *Liam! Is it you? * Anna gurgled softly in the water as her mouth lazily traced the words. His face had a few more lines on it than her memory had shown, but that was back when he'd proposed, years before they had even thought about buying into their insurance policy. Liam pressed his hand against the containment glass, peering in at her. His lips were moving, but no sound made it through the barrier. She tried to point her finger to her ear, but her arm was not yet that flexible. Instead, she raised her hand to the glass. She didn't have the strength to hold hers as high as Liam's, but he moved his hand down to meet hers. `` Good to see you,'' she mouthed to him through the liquid. His lips moved, but she couldn't tell what he was saying. His mouth moved slowly at first, then picked up speed. His eyes were intense and his hand pressed against the glass more firmly. Anna felt another twitch in her spine, and her hand began to slip from the glass. It slid slowly, and even as she tried to prop it up she found herself unable to control her arm. Liam's own hand followed hers at first, and when he looked into her eyes she saw fear. She saw the tears of frustration building. And Anna knew. *Oh, Liam... I'm so, so sorry... * Anna looked into his eyes, her expression clear of", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0404", "text": "Birds took to the sky as the man on horseback raised his standard and shouted a challenge to the perimeter guards he knew were there, out of sight. “ Darius Thalgood, Captain in the White Legion and landowner requests access to the Dome City of Melthamnus! ” As the commotion of the birds died down, Darius was left with the sound of the wind through the tall grass. Nothing. There were always guards at the water crossings into the outskirts of Malthamnus. He looked around for some sign of life across the field and saw nothing. Deliberating for a long while, Darius decided to press forward to the gates of the city; or until he was stopped by the city guard. He tugged on the long rope, causing the bound boy to stumble on the slick river rocks. “ Come. And keep quiet. ” The boy looked up, confused and pleading. Darius knew he didn't speak the common tongue and addressed him as one might address an animal; with no real expectation of them understanding. The pair finished crossing the river and stepped into the grass. Darius moved slow and the great Dome grew above them and they neared the city. He could now see smoke rising from behind the city walls. He closed his eyes thoughtfully. Was it the Ormus already? The season was right. It still didn't explain the lack of guards, though. The boy followed blindly, dwarfed by the thick grass and walking in the wake of the horse. After a few hours Darius stood before the massive gate to the central district of Melthamnus. There were shadowed figures atop the gate, but it remained shut and his cries for entry went unheeded. Smoke was thick in the air, burning his lungs and the boy coughed sickeningly behind him. After a long while, the heavy stone gate creaked open. Darius' and the boy's eyes widened as smoke billowed out; the city was in flames! In the center of the road there was an ornate staff, with an equally ornate head, mounted on it. Darius immediately recognized the man as the High Cleric of the city. Shocked, his sharpened soldiers reaction was delayed by only moments, before he saw the host of slaves armed with stolen weapons and riding stolen horses begin to stream from the gates. As he tried to reign in his horse and flee, he", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0405", "text": ". ” “ 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 quarter of a teaspoon of salt. Go fine on that one. I know you like your coarse salt. Oh, and keep it table. I never cared for that sea salt. Now, this last ingredient is the most important, have you kept up with me so far? ” “ Yes, ma'am, ” I said as I furiously scribbled her every word. “ Good. You're going to want a human heart, ” she continued. “ Get it as fresh as you can now, those stale hearts make the cookies go south in a hurry. There's just something about the consistency and taste of a good, fresh heart. You can't beat'em. ” “ Mm-hmm, okay, ” I said to myself as I wrote down her words without question, without thought. She settled down on her back once again as her breathing slowed. I didn't notice as I read over my notes. Something seemed a little off to me. The noises in the background began to die out as she took her final breath. I saw her chest rise and fall for the final time on the edges of my vision as I reached that last line. “ Hey! Wait! You can't go! You didn't tell me how to prepare it! ” Her chest fell still and she said no more. “ No! I'll never know what temperature to bake them on or how long they're supposed to cook, mama! ” I cried as I cradled her in my arms. Our greatest family recipe was forever lost to me. -301", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 462, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0406", "text": "up. `` Then that would make you The Grifter!'' she exclaimed. I nodded again. `` The Grifter.'' The name was a badge of honor and a mark of shame at the same time. I'm one of an obscure category of people known as the Traders. We bargain with higher powers, cosmic entities, and other such beings as a way of life. Most of us don't have souls. That is always the first thing to go. For us, a soul is a nest-egg, a place to start from. Turns out you don't really need one. Lucky thing too. Because true names are even more valuable than souls, we all go by pseudonyms of some kind, and sooner or later we acquire a title. The young lady had sorted out mine. I got it after gaining a reputation for making less than fair trades. Not many people can con demons, angels, and eldritch horrors, and nobody as well as I could. Eventually, Satan got so frustrated with me that he permanently barred me from Hell. The young lady continued, `` So, are the legends real then? Did you really sell the rights to your soul after you died to three different entities? Did you really bargain with Death himself for save haven from all three? Did you-'' `` Look,'' I cut her off, `` If you want to ask me about this, we should do it in private. Go to the back room, I'll close up shop.'' I made sure that all seven locks on the front door were engaged, as well as the chain and both bolts. I lit the warding incense and candles, then headed to the back. The girl ( she had too much energy and too little restraint for me to consider her ladylike anymore ) was looking around at my private collection, mouth agape. I coughed, once, causing her to jump and turn around. `` Okay,'' I said, `` Let's take this one question at a time. I can tell you won't leave until you are satisfied.'' She moved closer to me with slow and soft steps, then whispered, `` Are you really immortal?'' The question was bound to come up. `` Yes,'' I said, `` but only by accident. Satan barred me from Hell, and I've done too much wrong and made too many infernal pacts to go to Heaven. Purgatory would be an option, had God not shut the place down when", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0407", "text": "`` Why can't you be a café maiden, like your older brother?'' I found myself screaming at my daughter. She stood before me, bold as brass, right smack in the middle of our family business dressed as a magical girl. The one thing I promised her mother would never happen. `` The world is in peril,'' she said. Stating the too obvious. `` The world is always in peril!'' I said, `` When are you going to get it through your head there is always going to be a giant monster, or werewolves, or vampires, or some giant rampaging transgendered jabberwocky roaming the world somewhere, but it is not for you to save us from it.'' `` I was chosen father!'' she said. She raised a staff above her head and transformed right there, into her battle form, with the whole café watching. Magical girl outfits were always on the unmodest side but this outfit was deliberately pushing it to the extremes. It made it extremely obvious, Maaya was not a little girl anymore. Ever since she had grown much taller than me, her father, she had been getting increasingly rebellious. Looking up at this enchanted Titania reminded me of her mother, which was not helping with my mood. `` Magical girls always lead to a bad end,'' I pleaded with her. Then I pointed to my eldest son, Yukio, serving drinks at the far end, trying his best in vain to draw attention away from us. `` Look at your brother! A handsomer man in a maid outfit you will never find, and proud of it! He'll be graduating from business college just a few years and I will hand over the café to you two and retire. I can't handle my children spending their lives fighting evil. Always in danger!'' `` Mother was a magical girl, father!'' screamed Maaya, `` She protected us from danger. You have no idea what you're talking about.'' That was the last straw. I pulled small baton from my maid apron showed this little upstart how one properly transforms into a magical girl. A bright sprinkling pink dress with the cat ears of a warrior I had not worn in over a decade. With panties, garters, and fishnets, not this g-string and tattoo nonsense they tarted around in these days. Maaya was of course stunned. `` You... you were Kamaya Catboy? The great defender of the city?", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0408", "text": "on his face, staring into the grandfather clock on his wall, the wrinkles on his face contorting as he struggled to hold back tears. He knew the call was imminent, but he couldn't bare to pick up the phone. Sure enough, at exactly 7:12 AM, it came. The caller ID, unsurprisingly, declared the other end to be `` Mountain View Hospital.'' Timothy picked up the phone. `` Yes?'' `` I'm sorry sir. We need you to come down here. Your wife has taken a turn for the worst.'' `` Oh..'' `` Sir?'' `` I'll..I'll be right there.'' Timothy hung up at just the right moment, unable to contain the tears any longer. He reached for the keys to his old Dodge, dangling above her favorite house plant. He could barely look at it, heading out the door as fast as his legs would allow. **''... I know you're probably wondering why I did it. `` ** `` God FUCKING damnit!'' Screamed her father as they sped down the interstate. Everything was a haze. Blood covered her pants and the back seat. `` I TOLD you to be careful! You didn't listen!'' Her father screamed again. `` Please, dad. Please..'' She whimpered as the bleeding intensified. `` Do you have any fucking idea what this means?! Do you? Huh?!'' `` I'm sorry.. I'm so sorry dad. Please stop screaming..'' Said the girl, gently caressing her baby bump. The request seemed to strike a nerve as he began to lower his tone. ``... Fine... Listen to me.. keep the pressure on... you have to maintain pressure... fucking hell..'' He said as he looked back at her and the blood-stained seats she lay on. `` How did that even happen?'' He asked. `` I don't..I don't know..I didn't think it hit that hard..'' She said as tears streamed down her face. Their car began to speed up even more as her father laid his foot firmly on the gas. **''... Why I had to do this. I know there's a lot I'll miss. `` ** As they wandered along the back woods behind her house, she could feel the intense beat of her heart, as if it was to pop out of her chest at any moment. She knew why he had brought her out here. ``", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0409", "text": "A rotund shadow darkens the alley next to little Jimmy Taylor's house. He's been good this year, or so he would claim. The kid that he's been ruthlessly bullying at school for the last few weeks would disagree, but Saint Nick's obesity is a burden on his omnipotence, so Jimmy will be spoiled all the same. He enters via the front door, with a pick made by his elves. Those little ageless beauties can craft picks for anything. If he wasn't bound to this job for eternity, he would have made an excellent thief. He creeps up the hallway, deftly missing the creaky floorboards. He remembers this house from last year because they had a Bichon Frise puppy that voraciously soiled his leg while he was raiding the fridge for snacks. The presents are deposited quietly under the tree, and he makes his way slowly upstairs to Jimmy's bedroom to lay out a stocking. As he climbs the stairs he realises that something isn't quite right - is someone watching him? The air turns cold; the hairs on his arms begin to stand on end. He can see his warm breath flowing into the icy air, and when his eyes re-focus after reaching the top of the stairs a tall cloaked figure is stood before him, with a large silver scythe. The being grins - 32 well-kept, dazzling tombstone teeth; a smile that would happily shatter fragility. The figure turns and enters Jimmy's bedroom. Saint Nick lurches from his fear as he realises what is about to happen. He moves astonishingly quick for a man of his size, and as he reaches the bedroom he sees Death standing over Jimmy's bed, his grin somehow widened. `` Don't do it'' he says. `` The boy doesn't deserve it''. A mocking laugh is returned; baritone humiliation that rumbles into the depths of the Earth. `` The boy?'' comes his reply, as he approaches Nick. `` It's YOU that I want''. He raises his scythe into the air; suddenly Nick can see a thousand colours at once, he experiences joy, sadness, humility; every single emotion that can and has been experienced throughout his life. He watches his childhood and his maturity, touches his mother's golden hair, rides the awesome wind on his dad's seemingly giant shoulders. And then he's back. The scythe hits, and he", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0410", "text": "It was 12:31 in the morning, and I was browsing the internet on my super-fast PC when I heard a knock on my door. `` I'm busy babe, go away.'' I switched on some heavy metal in attempt to deter my girlfriend from bothering me any more. The door opened, and as I glanced over, a tall figure wearing a black hood and holding a sickle entered the room. `` WHAT THE FUCK!!!'' I yelled, grabbing a knife close to my desk and flinging it towards the stranger. The stranger raised a bony hand and caught the knife. `` Chill, dude. I'm not here for your soul.'' The stranger put the knife on the desk and placed his sickle against the wall. `` Don't you dare touch my girlfriend!'' I reached for my cellphone, but his hand grabbed my wrist. Fear ran through my body. `` Do you know what my job is?'' The stranger asked frustratingly. I paused. `` You're the grim reaper, right?'' `` Correct. What does the grim reaper do?'' `` Collects souls?'' `` FINALLY!'' The Grim Reaper replied. `` Someone knows what's up.'' The Grim reaper pulled up a chair and sat down. `` If you know what I do, why did you throw a knife at me?'' I glared at the Grim Reaper. `` You just waltzed into my fucking room, that's why! If you aren't here for me, then are you here for my girlfriend?'' There was a knock on the door, and my girlfriend poked her head inside. `` Can you turn it down a bit? I'm trying to sleep some.'' She glanced 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0411", "text": "I stood, ready to go and get Mum, he was only thirteen for God ’ s sake, too young to be nearly killed. He moved quickly and blocked my path. “ Look, just… just take a look tomorrow. Just take a closer look at David and try to look at him as Dad would? ” I shook him free. “ Like he was fucking my wife after I died? ” Dave froze and I felt bad for a moment, but pushed past him. “ Sort your shit out and stop whatever it is you ’ re doing man. It ’ s not helping. ” He said nothing as I left. In the morning I woke late and made my way downstairs groggily to the kitchen, David sat quietly at the table, his hands folded. The sun was high already and I glanced across to the clock to see the time and started as I saw it was nearly eleven. “ Fuck! I ’ m late for School! ” David looked up, as if he had just heard me enter. “ it ’ s… it ’ s not important now. Please, take a seat, I need to tell you something. ” His voice held… an odd tone and I paused, the adrenaline from the panic of missing school already subsiding and being replaced by a knot of fear. “ What… why? ” He gestured again and I pulled a chair free and sat opposite him. He reached out for my hands, but I kept them under the table and he sat back. “ I ’ m very sorry, I ’ m afraid your mother and brother went to the shops this morning and had an accident. ” The words had no meaning, they came and went and my mind was blank, even as the knot of fear grew. “ The car was hit by a lorry. I ’ m afraid they both died. ” He held my eyes and smiled, sympathy and sorrow mixing on his face. “ No. ” I could barely speak, barely squeeze out a word. He looked down. “ I ’ m sorry, I couldn ’ t find the way to tell you before, so I let you sleep. ” He looked up and continued to speak, but the words were lost now, I was looking at the space around his eyes. There was *something* there, something which made his expressions seem… wrong. I leaned in, but he didn ’ t seem to notice and now I could see it, a festering ring of darkness around his eyes", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0412", "text": ",'' 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 system. Had you lot done your jobs properly,'' she levels a hard state at him as he shifts his weight unevenly, `` this poor woman would still be alive right now!'' He clears his throat, looking around him uneasily. `` Yes, well, limited resources, not really my area, and besides how were we supposed to trust the word of one woman claiming her ex was a psycho? The woman sounded deranged in the recordings I've listened to!'' He raised his gaze to hers defiantly- only to lower them so quickly he thought he might have given himself whiplash. Her beautiful face had gone from mildly rebuking to positively glacial as he had been busy shoving his foot in his mouth. `` Did, uh, did your assistant leave? I heard... I thought I heard talking when...'' Her eyes hadn't left his and frankly he was very unnerved, so he decided to beat a courageous retreat. `` Right. Yes. I'll look into the ex, thank you for your time, thank you for autopsying her so quickly. Won't disregard a woman's allegations of psychotic behaviour again.'' He turned on his heel at her nod of acceptance, letting the doors close quietly behind him. As he walked away, it hit him what had seemed out of place; the woman hadn't been autopsied. There was no evidence that she had been opened up at all. He was half way up the first flight of stairs when the voices reached him again. *Her*, and, was that... was that the voice from the frantic calls he'd been listening to just that morning? It couldn't be. It couldn't.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 489, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0413", "text": "wall. The CEO looked at the broken phone, then back to Ted. He pulled open a drawer and took out another phone, which he put on his desk. The CEO stared at it for a second, adjusted it a centimetre to the left then looked at Ted. `` I'm afraid we can't'' `` Why?'' `` Every book is personalized. If we gave you a book someone would go without one'' `` I'm going without one'' The CEO furrowed his brow `` You have one though'' `` A fucking useless one'' `` I think it's solid advice'' `` You think give'er is solid advice?'' `` Yeah. Look at me, I'm 21 I'm a CEO, I've met my soul mate…'' On cue the phone started ringing. Ted picked it up and tossed it over his head. It landed in the water pitcher by the door. `` And if I could sum up what I did down to one word'' The CEO looked down nonchalantly, opened the drawer, took out another phone, put it on the desk and looked up at Ted `` That word would be give'er'' `` That's two words'' `` Is it?'' `` Yes'' `` Is it'' `` What the fuck is wrong with you people'' `` Nothing, because we followed our manuals, just like you should'' `` But it just says give'er'' `` Now you've got it'' The phone buzzed. The CEO picked it up and held it to his ear. `` Uh-huh?'' he turned the phone slightly, angling it away from his ear towards Ted so he could clearly see that the caller ID had identified the caller as'bae' `` Work stuff, I have to take it'' Ted turned around, his book dangling from his finger tips, and walked out of the office, numb to everything. `` No you hang up first'' said the CEO Ted walked into the reception area. `` No I love you more'' said the receptionist. Ted walked by her desk. `` Thank you for coming, No I love you more'' Ted left the building and walked into the alley where a hobo was standing over a trash can fire. `` Hello'' said the hobo `` How are you homeless?'' `` I have no house'' `` No I mean, didn't you get a manual?'' `` Sure did. Best advice I ever got'' `` Really?'' `` I couldn't", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0414", "text": "to the `` hospital'' they were keeping him in. Oddly enough, I walk in and there she was. Those eyes. I could have spotted them out of a police line up. They were etched into my skull, she recognized me too. So we say our hellos, that's when she asks why I'm here. Well of course it would have been sly and potentially swoon worthy, had I said something like; `` I looked you up, because that day we met when we crashed into each other, I fell madly in love with you.'' However that was simply not true. I didn't know this woman, I didn't care about this woman. She was just another face. As far as I knew she felt nothing for me either. We were strangers after all. So, I answered truthfully. `` I'm here to see my uncle.'' She looked shocked. The kind of shock a person gets when you tell a slightly off-color joke, or the second in between burping and saying excuse me. She asked me his name, I told her. She then informed me he'd passed away just that morning. Now, I don't know if it was the fact that I'd lost mom rather recently, or that I really truly felt sorry for Dave. Not one visitor in 10 years, just slowly stewing on his thoughts. Then finally someone's coming to visit. Somewhere in the afterlife I imagine he's either really pissed or laughing his ass off. Someone came to visit, and before he could see them, he dies. A tear began to fall, I wiped it away pretending I was rubbing my eyes. She looked concerned. She took my hand and led me to a chair in the waiting room. That was her job, to console people here. Well that and receptionist duties. We talked, and basically exchanged life stories. Apparently she'd had a rough road as well. Orphan, abused by most of her adoptive families in one way or another. At any rate, we decided to talk more. We exchanged cell phone numbers, and began texting one another for about a month or so. We would hang out and watch movies, we weren't really dating, just being friendly. Well one day out of the blue, she decides to ask me out. I agree, because I had grown rather fond of her by now, we were best friends. What could go wrong? A few years pass", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0415", "text": "`` Oh, come on. Everyone can do something. Chrissake, Jim hamboned for his talent, and that's just crap. You've * got ta * be able to do something cool''. Truth was, though, I never really tried anything before really. I never was interested in art or music, and never had any athleticism either. I wasn't any good at juggling, I was an OK cook at best, and really couldn't hum, let alone sing. About the only thing I really excelled at was work, and how demanding was it to run an industrial paper shredder? `` Really, I can't think of anything Steve,'' I protested. `` I didn't even sign up for this stupid seminar.'' `` Well, none of us did. Stupid'team building' programs suck. We all get along, don't we?'' Steve protested. `` Come on, just get up and like, I dunno, hop on one leg in a circle. Anything to get this over with.'' `` Is someone still shy?'' asked the coordinator. `` Come one, everyone has something unique to contribute! Let's see how this star **shines! **'' `` God, all right,'' I grumbled. `` Ummmm...'' `` We believe in you!'' our smarmy little manager said. `` Don't let us all down in front of the veep!'' `` Ugh, fine. I guess I got this little trick I do to take out the trash, but I don't think it really impressive. Um. Anyone got some trash they need to get rid of?'' `` Yeah, my last performance review!'' someone shouted from the back, followed by a smattering of laughter. Oh, what a riot we were. `` OK, there's a trash can; thanks Cindy. All right, everyone watch, here we go,'' I said as I pushed the trash away. `` Yeah, not very impressive, I know,'' I mumbled to silence. And more silence. Finally, it got uncomfortable. `` What? You wanted me to participate; I never said it was a *good* talent, OK?'' `` How did you do that,'' whispered Jeff, our VP of operations. `` What did you do?'' `` What? I just, you know, pushed it away.'' `` Away? Away from what?!'' `` You know; away from everything", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 493, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0416", "text": "The doctor always said I had a problem. What they meant by that, I don't think I will ever know. I guess the way I live my life hasn't been entirely right but in the end what can I do? I live how I feel I should and will continue to do so. Unfortunately that type of thinking has placed me in Boarding Group B on American Airlines flight 1321 to Atlanta. Apparently there are people who explain to me what exactly I am doing wrong. Until then, here I am in line waiting to take my seats. After a while I notice a lovely blonde standing a few people in front of me. Maybe I should talk to her. Am I even capable of talking to a attractive woman? I used to think so when I was a bit younger but after several bad rejections I think it would be best to just forget about her. Yet what is this? She begins to show consideration for the family that stands behind and in front of her. `` You all can get in at the same time, I'm by myself and I have no problem letting you guys get situated without me in the way.'' She says cheerfully. She is like a breath of fresh air. In my experience, with looks comes arrogance, yet with such a minor yet gracious act she begins to unravel my previous notions. Soon this wonderful creature stands before me. The smell of her perfume is intoxicating, almost to the point where I can't think straight. She hums quietly to her self as she puts on her ear buds. I can hear the muffled music playing from them but the sound suddenly stops after a few short moments. She seems frustrated as she removes her phone from her pocket only to notice that it had died. `` The battery is dead, damn.'' She says quietly. Dammit, I can do it! Say something! `` That sucks.'' I say shakily. `` Did you forget to charge it?'' She looks up from the blackened screen in front of her and removes an ear bud. `` Yeah, I guess so.'' She says with an awkward chuckle. I finally get a good look at her gorgeous green eyes, spectacular. `` I have a charger for that phone with me if you want to borrow it for a bit before we board, there are still a few more minutes left.'' She smiles slightly at my gesture of kindness causing my heart to throb uncontrollably. I can barely breathe. `` Thanks", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0417", "text": "And came crashing back down. `` No you hang up first'' said the CEO `` No you hang up first'' said his soul mate `` No you hang up first'' said the CEO `` Ok'' his soul mate hung up. The CEO looked at his phone and laughed. `` What a kidder'' he said, then to Ted `` What can I do for you'' `` Hi, I got my manual for living a long and happy life'' The FaceTime ring tone emanated from the phone. `` No you hang up first'' said his soul mate `` No you…'' Ted leaned across the table, ended the call and held out the open book. `` It just says give'er'' said Ted `` Hm'' said the CEO, taking the book and leafing through page after page that had give'er written in big, bold letters in the middle `` This one doesn't just say give'er'' Ted took the book back and read the page. He let the his arms drop to his waist. `` Yeah'' said Ted, turning the book to the CEO `` because instead it says'just give'er'' `` Well have you tried it?'' `` What?'' `` Giving'er'' `` No because I don't know what that means'' `` Well it means to…you know…give'er'' `` Give her what?'' `` No no no give'er…like give'er'' `` You've just made it less clear'' `` Well you know how you haven't been giving'er? Well now start giving'er'' `` Stop fucking talking and give me another book'' The phone started ringing again. The CEO reached for it but Ted got it first. He flung it across the room where it shattered against the wall. The CEO looked at the broken phone, then back to Ted. He pulled open a drawer and took out another phone, which he put on his desk. The CEO stared at it for a second, adjusted it a centimetre to the left then looked at Ted. `` I'm afraid we can't'' `` Why?'' `` Every book is personalized. If we gave you a book someone would go without one'' `` I'm going without one'' The CEO furrowed his brow `` You have one though'' `` A fucking useless one'' `` I think it's solid advice'' `` You think give'er is solid advice?'' `` Yeah. Look at me, I'm 21 I'm a CEO, I've met", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0418", "text": "*27th of December 2020, Heathrow Airport* Matt had never worked on the cabin crew of a private jet before. Although, he couldn't call it'work', or a'crew': the only people on the plane were himself, those in the cockpit and the two passengers themselves, whom had asked for absolute privacy. They had no luggage, no requests, no need for interaction. He may have been a passenger himself. `` Listen, son, what I tell you today you must never tell anybody else.'' Matt stopped in his tracks. The voice was evidently coming from beyond the curtain, the passengers that had explicitly declined food and services in exchange for privacy. After a brief moment of uncertainty, he hesitantly turned his head towards the curtain, until the coarse fabric brushed against his ear. `` Eventually, I won't be here for you. But our family, you see, was given a very important task.'' `` What task, papa?'' A child's voice. `` You see this? It's the amendment machine. Even I don't know why it works - but I'm going to tell you exactly what my father told me, and his father before him.'' Matt squinted, attempting to clarify faces behind the blurred vision provided by the fabric. All he could make out however, was what looked to be a mini universe of blue lights. `` He told me: we are the justice. I was given one job which, in time, I pass onto you. Do you remember the history I taught you? Wars, disasters, famines, plagues, depressions. That was us: our ancestors. Egypt, Rome, London, USSR, it was us. People are all the same: they hold power, and suddenly they want to hold everything else, too. So we create a lesser of two evils, ensure that nobody rules the world long enough.'' `` What does the machine do?'' `` It amends. Time, that is. We don't know how we got it, but we did. And it can do anything: as long as you're within a hundred clicks of your target. You'll see soon enough.'' The engines suddenly roared to life. Matt, caught off-guard, felt his legs give way under him. Falling, he looked up at the cabin, enough to catch a glimpse of a hand brushing through the blue lights. `` Are we the good guys, papa? Matt was", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0419", "text": "It was Him. He walked across the plaza, slowly, completely exposed, as if daring us to attack. A thousand troops were holed up in the ruins of these buildings. A thousand against one. But it felt like Hubris. What good is strength of numbers against a god? `` FIRE!'' came the order, and the air around him became a fireworks display. A combat drone lumbered towards him and swung down an armored fist as large as the creature Himself. Parrying the blow, He grabbed the drone's arm, wrenched it clean off the chassis and hurled it into a group of soldiers perched in the windows of a building. A missile ricocheted off his face, doing nothing but making Him aware of another group of assailants. The best of the best that our world has to offer, outmatched effortlessly by a lone, weaponless combatant. It was absurd. It seemed unfathomable. The creature had just engaged another two drones and effortlessly dispatched both, this time shrugging off concentrated plasma fire and a sunfire grenade. Safe on the rooftop for the time being, I mulled over placing the barrel of my laspistol against my forehead and pulling the trigger. A voice in my head chastised me sharply. But why? This battle was lost. Our opponent was to us what we are to insects. Suddenly, there is a noise behind me, and I turn around. He is there. He has pale skin and dark hair, and hazel eyes that seemed to radiate... indifference. Another soldier on the roof points his blaster at the creature and fires charge after charge of superheated plasma directly at him. Unflinching he advances through it and seizes the soldier by the neck. I hear his last panicked thoughts over the neural net as He hurls a fist through the soldier's face, bursting his head like a balloon. He tosses the headless carcass aside, all the while plasma charges bouncing off of his unarmored back, and walks over to me. `` You.'' He says. `` Your neural net.'' He speaks our language. `` Give the node to me.'' His demeanor is calm but hateful, as though our invasion had presented him with a frustrating inconvenience rather than a desperate struggle. I am on the verge of tears. I hand over the node, silencing the cries of traitor as I disconnect it. He places it on his head. `` Attention, maggots.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0420", "text": "I wasn't just a coward who quit on her love. Plenty of meaningless tchotchkes to fill that hole with. I don't know when I fell asleep exactly but I suddenly felt the strange urge that my mouth was hanging open with a thick column of drool connecting my bottom lip to my shirt. No witnesses in the rows around me, everyone else is still asleep. *Shit*. The flight attendants have gathered at the front of coach, gawking at the drooling quitter in 24F. *Get a good look, ladies. * I recycle my neighbor's napkin and start to distribute my slobber into a less noticeable blob. The show's over apparently, and the attendants scurry out of sight into first class when the intercom system pings on. `` Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are about an hour and a half outside our final destination of Anchorage, about thirty minutes ahead of schedule. As we start our descent path we would like to request that all passengers could please close the windows in their rows. There is no reason to be alarmed, merely trying to look after our sleeping guests. Thank you.'' *There is no reason to be alarmed? What the hell could possibly be alarming about shutting the windows? * 24E is conveniently slumped against our window, nothing for me to do apparently, but I don't hear anyone else rummaging to close theirs either. Everyone's asleep, every window's already closed. Then I see her as I climb over the mound of 24G. At the back of the plane in what I suspect is 52A, a young red haired woman staring wide-mouthed out her opened window. *She would have red hair. * She looks frozen - not scared - frozen. Like her brain was firing signals to her muscles to move in panic but the communication was cut somewhere down the line, not getting anywhere. `` Would you like anything to drink, sir?'' The flight attendant rips me back and startles me. `` What?'' `` Something to drink? Maybe a coffee?'' The cart is gone, and in her hands is a napkin and an already filled Styrofoam cup of coffee. `` No... no, I don't want any coffee. Look could you check on the woman back there? I think something's wrong.'' As I turn back toward the woman in the back of the plane I", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0421", "text": "UNCLE SAM WANTS YOU... to stop going back in time and poking Julius Caesar with plastic knives HE DOES NOT LIKE IT Barry squinted at the poster pasted on the brick wall. Uncle Sam looked a bit feral in it. His eyes were wild and red rimmed, as though the very thought of someone poking Caesar with plastic knives was keeping him up at night. `` Kids ruin everything'', he muttered. Some genius had invented a portable time machine twenty years or so ago. He'd uploaded his schematics to the internet and now everyone had one or could have one if they wanted to. No one changed the future or anything. Apparently that was impossible. Anything you fucked up in the past eventually fixed itself. Barry had listened to a guy on TV explain it once. He'd said time was like silly putty. You could mold it however you wanted but the slimy stuff desired to be whole. Time wanted to be a series of fixed points. Nothing you brought back with you stayed. Barry knew a guy who'd stolen a chest full of gold from some old pirate ship. It disappeared as soon as the guy had come back. Now that same guy had lost an eye to the pirate king and that stayed gone. Though Barry didn't think he looked that bad in an eye patch. The problems came, then, from the machines themselves. Some people came back wrong. They carved symbols into their skin, blathering about the coming storm. Some people just died. They crossed the wrong wires when building their machine or went to the wrong time or date or any number of similar things. The streets were littered with missing posters. The government wasn't too concerned about time travel mishaps. What they were concerned about was taxes. President Kilborn had managed to pass a law which patented the time machine design several years ago. Anyone who used or downloaded the design must pay taxes. Such a thing was, of course, hard to keep track of. So the Agency was born, to collect on these debts. Barry joined up half a dozen years ago. It wasn't what he'd thought it would be. Mostly a lot of skulking. Peeping. Listening. Occasionally moments of brief terror. Tonight he was supposed to go bust a kid for unauthorized time travel. The kid had gone back to regency England and started flipping women's skirts up. Barry had listened as he told his friend over the phone that the bustles made them like turtles", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0422", "text": "The intergalactic council was holding a meeting in Valhalla. Zorxban, leader, stood in front of the amassed individuals and called for silence. `` Now as you all know, we are here today to deal with a urgent problem. Time travelling humans have attempted to disrupt the continuum using methods synonymous in their language with'ruckus'. Infiltrating Hitler's base, making a game of who can kill him in the most unique way. Making up bizarre scenarios with Bob Ross meeting Hitler and various others. Talk of time stopping, escaping Death, talking with Death. Immortality. Superpowers. The list goes on! But most importantly is they know of the existence of this council and it's whereabouts!'' Zorxban exclaimed. Everyone in attendance gasped. A small man in the back of room with a nice suit piped up. `` Well... if they're so dangerous why don't we just obliterate them?'' The man questioned. Zorxban pinched the bridge of his brow. Sighing, he began to explain. `` You see, Ted. We've tried. They're the most resilient race of beings we've ever come across. At least that was last week. Currently, they rank among the weakest in the galaxy. But their race is nothing but a wild card. Powers suddenly stemming from emotion, spontaneous genetic mutation, soulmates... it's all really nonsense. We enslave them only to have them rise up. They develop faster than light travel in mere months and beat us back into the depths of space. Then, inexplicably, it all collapses! And now that they know our whereabouts it's only a matter of time before they begin a conquest for a galactic empire!'' Zorxban finished, a hint of despair in his tone. The council quietly chatted amongst each other, desperate for a plan. Quietly, Ted sat there pondering. It came to him slowly as he twirled his pen in his hands. He remembered a place. A place where he would waste time in his old accounting days. Ted spoke up. `` AHA!'' The entire council snapped their attentions to him. `` I've got it! You speak of a place Zorxban, a place I remember now. It is a place where humans write tomes and stories on a platform called the'internet.' It's a long shot but I believe we can predict when the humans", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0423", "text": ", making it sound more like a statement than a question. `` I am what?'' Joseph closed the book, but realized that he still held the red index card in his hand. *Shit*, Joseph thought, and than *Page 127, Page 127, Page 127*, as he thumbed through the book to find his place. `` The thrall of Rzidhal, no?'' `` The what?'' Joseph asked, thoroughly perplexed. `` The thrall of Rzidhal.'' the man repeated patiently, unlocking his briefcase. *This guy is insane* Joseph realized. *Truly insane*. `` Uhh... no. I am not the thrall of Riz-uh-dell. Joseph stood and gestured towards the exit of the park. `` I have to go, so...'' `` The red card.'' the man said, pulling a red card from his briefcase. `` You have one.'' Joseph pulled the card from the book, leaving his finger in its place. `` This?'' `` Yes,'' the man said, nodding. `` The card. Are you buying or selling?'' he asked suddenly. `` I really have to go...'' Joseph said, backing away slowly. The man stood up and grabbed Joseph's arm, pulling towards him. His hands were impossibly warm, like he had a very high fever. As the man opened his mouth to speak, Joseph saw to his horror that the man's canines were sharpened. Like fangs. `` You can not get there yourself. So Zivella will take you.'' The man pulled Joseph closer. Joseph tried to free himself from the man's grip, but the man's grip was as tight as steel. `` Why are you frightened? Zivella has never harmed a customer. All you need to do is calm down, calm down, calm down...'' The man's voice was slowly fading, like a radio being turned down. The previously bright sunlight was also fading, turning into two bright pinpricks in the center of Joseph's vision. But most of all, Joseph felt the queer sensation of sliding... Joseph woke up slowly; his consciousness running up flights of stairs in his mind. A dull headache throbbed beneath his temples; pounding and pounding in beat with his heart. Darkness lay in front of him; ominous chanting was drifting from an unseen chamber in front of him. *What? Where am I? * A", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0424", "text": "Laurel ran down the rootways, and the killers followed after. She never should have taken this job. She ’ d known the Branton brothers ’ reputation. But the money was too good, and the work had sounded oh so easy. Get in, swipe some resin, and duck down into the tunnel system. Meet up with her contact at the nearest hub, offload the stolen goods, and collect her easy payday. But the Brantons must have learned about the deal. And the Brantons don ’ t like being stolen from. So now her contact was dead, she was lost amidst the rootways, and a gang of hired thugs was going to break her fucking legs. And after that, they ’ d drag her back to meet their lovely bosses. Because if there ’ s one thing those sadistic bastards did like, it was making an example. All things considered, this was not her favorite Tuesday. She turned a corner and cursed under her breath. The soft blue glow of the tunnel's fungal lighting came to an abrupt stop up ahead. She'd reached a dead end. Frantically, she examined her surroundings: No handy alcoves. No gaps between the twisted roots that formed the tunnel ’ s ceiling… nothing she could hide in. If she was going to make a stand, this would have to be the place. Taking a deep breath, Laurel drew her nettle stalk. It was a fresh one -- she ’ d cut it herself last week. The two-foot shaft was still coated with the delicate hairs for which the plant was named. At the slightest touch, the neurotoxin they contained would cause excruciating pain. A few more solid hits and the target would be dead in seconds. The first thug rounded the corner at a run, and took the full force of her nettle to the face. He went down screaming, clawing at his cheeks and eyes. The second man was faster, jumping back to dodge her wild swing. He shouted a warning to his remaining comrade, and they slowed to give wide berth to their now-cornered quarry. Eyeing their fallen friend, the two men began to edge apart. They ’ d come at her from different directions if they could. Force her to turn and face one, exposing her back to the other. Laurel examined her opponents. The biggest wore a suit of stonewood plates. It ’ d be nearly impossible to get him with the nettle. And besides", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0425", "text": "Not in second person, but here it is: Hours had gone by before she dared to look back. The blisters on her blue feet were collecting small stones and filth as she scurried across the desert floor. `` What have I done?'' she thought. She had left behind everything she had known, including her responsibilities as a mother. `` Coward'' she cursed. `` Coward!'' She would have cried if she were not so afraid, ears ringing from the gunshots. *Ruff ruff* Those must be the dogs, she thought. They were only puppies when she first came to the house, and now here they were coming for her. She knew how fast they were, and she knew it was only a matter of time. *Ruff ruff* `` Coward!'' she continued to scream, the image of her crying children intoxicating her tortured mind. They'll be forced to watch her as she is being punished, as she dies. She asked herself if it was worth it. He was laying on the floor when she had left, covered in his own blood, killed by his own gun. She remembered how he groped her every night, and the nauseating smell of his sex as he forced himself on her. She had never tasted the cruelty of Allah's soldiers before she had met him. She did not know that great men could be exempted from the Holy rules. *Ruff ruff* The dogs were getting closer now. Her pace slowed as the pain from her raw feet began to sink its teeth in her, forcing her to stop and collapse to her knees. The tears had finally began to surface to her brown eyes as the anger faded, distorting the already obscure landscape in front of her. She looked up to the dark sky, capturing the swindles of lights that filled her watery eyelids. She closed her eyes. God is watching me, she thought to herself, and God will punish me. She heard the roar of his holy engine beginning to engulf her ears as he prepared to smite his sinful subject. She felt his breath grow more ferocious as the sands around her swirled. Her hand trembled as she felt his presence approach her. She opened her eyes again, looking up into the starry sky to face her judge and creator, his glorious light blinding her sight. She shielded her eyes to capture a proper glimpse of this soaring black bird that engulfed her", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0426", "text": "in his question. `` Does it matter?'' The man asked with a teasing look on his face. `` Well, um, I'd like to know who will be collecting my dues for a day incase.'' `` Why?'' `` Incase there's any issues, that's why. I don't know how familiar you are with my work but there's certainly no room for errors. Boss man wouldn't like that.'' `` I'm very familiar with your work. That's why I'm here, because I too am familiar with the fickle bitch that is eternal work. If you must call me something call me Friend and if your boss has an issue I'll call him directly.'' Grim thought he knew all eternal beings, so meeting this man came as a bit of a shock to him. Normally he'd be a little disconcerted by this but the old man's attitude made him oddly comfortable. `` Okay Friend, why is it you want this job?'' Grim asked curiously. `` I'm a close acquaintance with a man of many consider to be rather important and for a long time I've sat by his side, watching you slave away and it's time I thought I do the right thing. I know you weren't talking directly to God when you said his name but I heard your call and came.'' `` Well aren't I blessed'' Grim proclaimed condescendingly, `` but still, you're from a whole other world, how're you so sure you can handle my work?'' `` I'm not. I'm sure what you do is dark and could harden if the strongest of men but regardless I'm here to do it.'' `` You're ready? That's what you're telling me?'' `` Yes.'' `` Yes? So concise.'' Grim stared long into the old mans eyes. There was that familiarity he felt again and he just couldn't shake it. `` You're ready to drag an eight year old by the hand away from his crying family? You're ready to hear his lifeless shouts? You're ready to hear the sorrow in his voice as the realization that the only person who can hear him is the man dragging him away? You're ready to be that man?'' A look of grief washed over the old mans face. It was the first time his emotions had budged at all since the beginning of the interview. All he could do was look down at his feet. `` That's what I thought", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0427", "text": "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 farted in his mouth. He just started coughing and told me to stop, but I knew that he would enjoy it at some point so I kept going. I eventually had to pin him down and defecate into his oral cavity or else he'd go blind. He's yelling, `` Stop it! Stop please!'' but what the hell does John know? It's not like he reads or anything. I'm doing him the biggest favor in his life and all. For some reason, he passes out, which was weird because they don't usually pass out. So I try kicking him a little to wake him up but he's not budging. At this point, Im a little scared, so I call up the only person I know with any medical knowledge at all; Sarah. [ END PART1 ]", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 315, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0428", "text": ", okay? `` * *'' Okay mama. `` * I answered the phone. `` Hello, is this the North Pole?'' I dropped the phone. I recognized the voice. I recognized *my* voice. No, that's not possible. This isn't some Hallmark Christmas tale, this is real life. I'm working on Christmas eve... actually Christmas morning now. I'm not getting a call from Christmas past here, i'm getting a call from some kid, all kids sounds pretty much alike on the phone. I picked the phone back up, still somewhat shaken. `` Hello? Mister Claus?'' I managed to choke out a reply. `` Yes, this is Santa.'' `` It is! Hi Santa, you don't sound old.'' I could hear the smile in his voice. `` I'm younger than most people think. What can I do for you kid?'' `` Mama said maybe I could call about my Christmas list this year. She said she wasn't sure if you would be able to talk, I know you're very busy.'' `` Well, it is Christmas Eve.'' I chuckled despite the unimaginable conversation taking place. `` What did you want to ask for?'' `` I want to see the future.'' I froze. `` What future?'' `` My future silly!'' I could hear his laughter, gentle and innocent. `` You want to know your future?'' `` Yeah! Do I get rocket boots?'' Part of me wanted to tell him things to make his life better. Do the things I didn't do. Be good to mom. Convince her not to take that trip to California. Get the pipe in the wall repaired before it bursts. Don't date Luna Prince in the 11th grade or she'll tell the school you have lice. Don't take the year off after high school to travel, start working so you can save up for that engineering school. Dad is lying, he's not saving the money, it's all gone. Don't work ungodly hours to pay the bills. Don't hate yourself for getting caught in the vicious cycle of go to school so you can work and work so you can go to school. Don't be me. Don't be me. Don't be me. He was still talking about rocket boots and race cars when I interrupted him to answer. `` Slow down kid,'' I tried to think about what I", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 489, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0429", "text": "The crows circled overhead. They were pests around these parts, having long since learned the trick behind the scarecrows, and keeping them out of the wheat and corn fields was a chore all on its own. Papa always seemed to have some new idea, but the hope that his daughter would prove just as resourceful died with him. That old yellow dog did n't help at all either - his tired bones could n't keep up with those miniature buzzards - but his bark was always a reliable warning signal that someone was approaching. I watched the truck come down the dirt path onto my property; it must have been that man Miss Gertude was talking about sending my way. We're a decent distance off the beaten path, so it made sense only someone with directions could find their way here. The man who climbed out of the truck was surprisingly young, with a neatly trimmed beard and strong arms that caught my eye as he pulled out his toolbox. `` I hear you're going to set me up with one of those animatronic scarecrows. Those winged rats are gettin' on my last nerve.'' He smiled a dazzling smile. `` We'll get rid of your troubles, do n't you worry, miss.'' I led him into the cornfield where the scarecrow stood. `` Now I do n't fancy putting a generator out here that'll be clattering all day long. Is there some way to make it a quiet scarecrow that moves?'' `` I do n't know.'' He replied, a bit flatly. I turned to regard him. `` Well you're supposed to be the expert here. Are n't you?'' `` No.'' His toolbox crushed my skull as easily as I could crush a tomato. Old Yellow barked his complaint from the porch. The crows circled overhead.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 372, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0430", "text": "want in life since none of my family had made it past high school until now and I had already achieved everything my mother wanted of me—besides being engaged—by becoming Prom queen, but he was already looking past CMU to his projected future in Silicon Valley and attended hackathons in his free time. But, we knew each other well after being partners for years and spent the entire hour long car ride in a comfortable silence, the radio tuned to our NPR member station. Despite being half-asian, Bram was your stereotype of the a good ole Southern boy—fishing and being The Generals' tight end were his real passions in life and he only joined the team because his mother had insisted—so I resigned myself to a weekend of not being able to use my blow dryer or receive cell phone signal when we pulled up to a cabin that was only notable for its Walden-like sparseness. Lexi and the others had already arrived earlier and Bram was already flipping patties on the small grill. Lex was co-captain of the team, our resident overachiever in a group of overachievers, and had joined debate out of a genuine nerdy love for competitive arguing. She also did public with Bram and lusted after him with an all consuming passion that I thought mostly came from the fact that it would feed her vanity if he—who was a stratosphere away socially—suddenly declared his undying love for her. Although, in their partnership, she might be the main brains of the operation, but he was the charming public speaker, his voice deep and smooth to her agitated chatter. When I went to drop my bags inside—which was actually well furnished to my relief—Raven was curled up on one of the couches with a book and she raised one hand in a wave when I came in before turning her attention back to Nabokov. Raven wasn't actually her real name. She had gone through a goth phase in junior high and, when her family had moved from down from the North her sophomore year of high school, she had thought to remake herself by telling everyone her name was Raven. Although she had moved on to wearing oversized denim jackets and listening to obscure bands, she still kept the name and the heavy winged liner. She actually didn't debate and was on the team just to do Poetry and Prose. If you're keeping up with the Breakfast Club analogy—which Francine my co-captain", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0431", "text": ", 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 for about a month and make plans to meet up at a nearby cafe. At first, he is a bit reluctant and aggressive about me not returning his calls. I apologize for my actions and explain to him how I want to maintain our friendship. I genuinely believed what I said. I inquire about new developments in his life, how his wife and children are, how the new android application he is developing is working out. He seems to have changed a lot and appears happier. He tells me about his exciting adventures and how he works from home now and travels the world with his family. During the conversation, I, suddenly start to feel miserable. I try to cut the meeting short by claiming that I forgot about the important meeting I have tomorrow morning and I have to go to bed early. He seems completely okay with this and leaves me alone. As I walk home, my head is constantly tilted down, not like in the morning, when it was proudly up. Tears start falling from my eyes for no reason I can think of. I begin to see everything negatively and believe that I was never truly happy at any point in my life, even today. As I enter my room, I close the lights and sit on my bed in darkness. I just want to think about my life. I start to think that today I was not me but someone else. I felt like an impostor. Suddenly, this feeling that life will not get any better in the future started to surface. Rationally, I knew this was not true but emotionally I was convinced. I don't want to continue on living, I think to myself, if this is what life is. Life is meaningless, I tell to myself, the universe doesn't care about", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0432", "text": "[ Please go easy on me, first writing prompt here ] It was a fine summer evening, especially for one that marked the first day of school. Overlooking the lush English landscape, adorned by the radiant glow of the setting sun parading its last light of the day, sat a tower perched about the rest of an antiquated castle. In this tower stood two individuals. On the right was a rather tall elderly gentleman with flowing hair, both from the head and the face, that was gray and wispy. It offered and ethereal look as the light peaking through the window, reflected from the uneven strands protruded from the edges of his mane. The other was a young man, about the age of 12, which was holding his hands, almost as if taken aback by the gentleman in front of him. “ Go ahead, take a seat. I understand you have an assignment to interview an established wizard, why choose the headmaster? ” said the elderly man, gesturing to a rather embellished chair. The young student, still trembling in the presence of the headmaster, walked towards the seat and replied “ Ye- yes sir, we are supposed to make a small record of another wizards time as a student ” As he gathered a chair to seat himself in the headmaster replied calmly “ Why yes yes, I understand the assignment, I was the one who encouraged it. You didn ’ t answer my question though, why choose me? In all the years here I ’ ve refused these interviews and this is well known. ” The student, now shaking, said “ We- well, you se- see, I figured one day you have to change your mind ” “ Very well ” the headmaster said, “ You are not incorrect, I have been around a great many years, lived what some equate to multiple lives, thanks to the secrets of the Phoenix, but alas, I am not immortal. I am not immune to the ravages of time. I may be able to restore the youth of my body, but even now I can feel my mind decay. As it stands, even the Pensieve can not contain my tale for much longer. ” He said, motioning to a small fountain, filled with a dark blue, swirling fluid, topped by a thin silvery mist. “ Ok sir, I think ready to begin writing ” The student said, as a smile crossed his face as though a shadow was lifted from his very being.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0433", "text": "watch, and hastily activated the diagnostic tools he had brought along. Unseen signals flew frantically between his watch and the robot in the next room. The display frizzled briefly as he struggled to make sense of the numbers streaming past. “ This is an ElderCare model you purchased last year? ” “ Yes, to provide basic company, assist with minor chores. ” “ Then your claims of sentience? How do you know that ’ s not the advanced linguistics we installed? ” Sharlene ’ s eyes twinkled. “ Because I asked. I asked the robot to its face whether its memories extended beyond 24 hours, and the robot said no. Tell me, Dr Rothsen, do any of your other ElderCare models know how to lie? ” The images on the holoscreen loomed before them, impossibly real, impossibly onerous. Dr Rothsen ’ s eyes tracked the robot as it moved, talked and behaved just like one of them. His heart beat wildly. “ Have you tried deactivating it? ” “ What? And risk upsetting my grandpa? Of course not. In his condition, he needs stability, familiarity, and the last thing I want him to see is me opening up grandma for a maintenance check. He ’ s happy just taking care of her in the only way he knows, and that ’ s good enough for me. ” “ So then how are we going to find out what makes it different, special? How on earth did a simple AI subroutine learn to circumvent the mandatory daily memory wipes? ” Sharlene shrugged, leaned back and propped her feet on the desk. “ That ’ s why I asked you over. But if I had to guess, I would say that the robot may have just been won over by my grandpa. Such a charmer, isn't he? ” -- - /r/rarelyfunny", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 387, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0434", "text": "more new vampires, and everyone's dead in ninety days. The vampires gone not long after.'' `` So make peace with the others. Don't go asking me to soul bind someone to a rock for eternity.'' `` Please, I would have someone, someone sane, to keep me grounded.'' `` They won't be sane for long if you're putting a human soul into a rock.'' `` They would have me to talk to.'' `` That would drive them nuts that much quicker.'' Durant snarled. `` I am losing my mind, Isabel.'' `` I'm Marianne.'' `` I'm sorry, that was your...'' `` Great-grandmother.'' `` You look so much like her,'' he sighed and took the rock back from Marianne and looked down at it. `` Please. I've pledged to sire no more children. I need something, something beyond a simple animation spell.'' `` I won't, Ulysses,'' she crossed her arms. `` Very well. If you won't, maybe one of your kin, or maybe one of your great-grandchildren will. I'll confuse them for you, and I'll have this same pointless conversation from here to eternity.'' `` Is there anything else I can do for you tonight?'' She asked, suddenly professional. `` Besides the rock spell, no. Good night, Marianne.'' Durant puffed his shoulders back and strolled out of the shop, the bell above the door tinkling behind him a second before it slammed. Under the light of the moon, the surface of the rock shone like jet. `` Well, Peter,'' Durant said, looking down at the stone. `` I think that's the fifth time this century I've had this discussion. Always the same.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 351, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0435", "text": "`` Shit, SHIT. OH MY GOD!'' half breathed ben aloud. `` What the hell am I going to tell his mom?'' he screamed. Gun still pointed at the other `` Travis''. He mind was racing a thousand miles a minute. He had just shot his best friend. All this back and fourth talk between the two. He had even quizzed them both. He was sure he had picked the clone. `` How could I not know I was being tricked?'' he whispered. Thats when it happened, the ceiling exploded into a million tiny shards of glass. They were here, and they wanted their property back. He thought back to the day him and travis stumbled upon that little secret. He remember how they were going to change the world with it. He could n't help but to smirk. Back then they were so naive. So much time had past since then and everything that had come to light in their investigation. It was almost worth it. Just almost. The ropes were slowly falling for Ben, when he decided to plug the trigger. He knew that in just moments there would be a small team surrounding them to recover the stolen property. He knew one bullet to this travis's head and everything they had come for would be gone. He wanted to make sure the they would pay for everything he had lost. CLICK. The round is sent spinning through the chamber of the.45. Sent on it destructive course for the hard bone and soft brain matter of this abomination. But the bullet never meets its target. Instead it is stopped just short. As it falls to the ground, he knows who is here. But there was no time left, so he turns and starts to run toward the car. `` They will come for me ” he thinks to himself as he gets into the car. “ But for now I will wait till that day comes ” he says as he starts the car and lunges down the road and around the corner.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 402, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0436", "text": "`` C'mon gang, let's investigate! There have to be some clues around here somewhere!'' `` But Freeeddiiiiee, this place is so creeeeepy! Not to mention it clashes with my outfit...'' `` Don't worry Daphne, we're right on the Creeper's trail, I know it! Maybe we should split up and look for clues...'' `` I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Fred.'' `` Like, yeah, what if the C-C-C-Creeper shows up?!'' *bark! bark! * `` See, Scooby agrees with me!'' I sat up, walking over to the door of the cell and looking through the bars as best I could. Maybe... maybe these children could help me? `` Pardon!'' I shouted, knocking on my door a few times for emphasis. `` Excuse me, children? Please, come here, I'm in need of your help!'' The group that sauntered up to the door were... textbook, in a sense. Superiority Complex. Narcissism. Mild case of Autism, possible indicators of savant tendencies. Schizophrenia. Probably the only one in a relatively healthy mental state was the Great Dane, and even that assessment was mostly due to the fact that I'd never studied much animal psychology. `` Zoinks! Like, what're you doing in there, Doc?!'' the lanky schizophrenic asked. I leaned in close to the bars, whispering. I didn't want to be heard after all. `` I hate to break it to you, but I think there may be... a *madman* running around here, in a *mask and costume*! Please, let me out, I need to get the situation under control, there are some very dangerous people in this facility...'' `` A creeper in a costume? I knew it!'' Fredrick exclaimed, and I gave him the least patronizing smile I could muster. Nodding, I pointed down the hall, explaining exactly where the keys were in the office. I went into a bit of detail about the man wandering around Arkham, dressed in a terrifying guise, using fear as a weapon. He fashioned himself a professional, but in all reality he was just a disturbed man preying on the weak. `` Gosh, who woulda thought!'' the red-haired teen exclaimed, looking around nervously.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0437", "text": "Ted entered the life office and walked up to the front desk. The 19 year old secretary was ignoring him to face time here soul mate. `` No I love you more'' she said `` No I love you more'' he said `` No I love you more'' she said Ted rang the bell. `` No I love you more'' he said `` No I love you more'' she said `` No I love you more'' he said Ted rang the bell. `` No I love you more'' she said `` No I love you more'' he said `` No I love you more'' she said Ted rang the bell repeatedly. `` No I love you more'' he said, speaking louder `` No I love you more'' she said, also speaking louder Ted picked up the bell and started slamming it into the desk. `` Sorry I have to work'' she said `` Finally'' said Ted `` You hang up first'' he said `` No you hang up first'' she said `` Oh for fuck's sake'' `` No you hang up first'' he said `` I'm going in'' Ted walked past the secretary and into the office of the 21 year old CEO of Life Indsutries. He was face timing his soul mate. `` I love you the most'' said the CEO `` No I love you the most'' said his soul mate `` No I love you the most'' said the CEO Ted stewed in silence. `` No I love you the most'' said his soul mate `` No I love you the most'' said the CEO `` No I love you the most'' said his soul mate `` Sorry babe, got ta go, I've got a customer'' Ted's spirits rose. `` You hang up first'' said his soul mate And came crashing back down. `` No you hang up first'' said the CEO `` No you hang up first'' said his soul mate `` No you hang up first'' said the CEO `` Ok'' his soul mate hung up. The CEO looked at his phone and laughed. `` What a kidder'' he said, then to Ted `` What can I do for you'' `` Hi, I got my manual for living a long and happy life'' The FaceTime ring tone emanated from the phone. `` No you hang up first'' said his soul mate `` No you…'' Ted leaned across the table, ended the call and held out the open book. `` It just says give'er'' said Ted `` Hm'' said the CEO,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0438", "text": "Harold rolled his wheelchair a few feet away from the sparking fire and put the flashlight under his wrinkled chin. “ It happened twenty years ago, in sleepy town just like this one… ” he said, opening his eyes wide and smiling menacingly. “ The first snow had come and the roads were far too slippery to bring out your walker. ” “ Come on, Harold, ” cried Agatha, and lighted a cigarette. “ That ’ s not even scary. ” “ Eh, does your PCA know you ’ re smoking? ” asked Beatrice. “ I ’ m going to tell on you. ” “ Oh yeah, Little Sis? Then I ’ m going tell him that you ’ ve only been pretending to have diabetes. My sight may be bad, but I can hear your knees cracking from a mile away when you sneak those cookies every other night. ” “ Guys, can you shut up and let Harold tell the story? ” Earl tapped his bony knuckles against the hilt of his cane. “ I ’ m pretty sure your ceaseless bickering is the source of my arthritis. ” “ Anyway, ” Harold continued. “ There was one person who dared defy the harsh weather and took his doggy out for a walk – Uncle Larry. He had just crossed the street and entered a small park when he noticed a set of footprints. Mind you, he was the only one outside and the footprints led straight into the forest. Larry could tell that something was wrong from the way his dog was growling and pulling the leash. No sane person would venture alone into the forest at this time of the year. What if you got a stroke or heart attack? No, that was unthinkable. ” Harold leaned forward. “ CRACK! Branches were breaking and snow was tumbling from the trees. Larry turned and started limping out of the park. ‘ Hey, grandpa, where you off to so quickly? ’ someone called out behind him. The voice was much too smooth and expressive to belong to an elder. The realization sent shivers down Larry ’ s spine. He stumbled on as fast as his old bones allowed, but the creature was gaining on him. With panic filling him to the core, Larry threw a glance behind him. The creature was lean with pale skin and spiky black hair. Its nails were of shiny onyx just like its lips. It wore spiked bracelets and had a shirt that said ‘ Emo", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0439", "text": "It all started on Halloween. I was an exchange student in Rome and me and some friends had gone out to party. I myself had dressed up as the Holy Father himself, Pope Francis. To be honest I looked pretty darn convincing. I had the glasses and I even had died my hair so that it looked gray. Anyway, me and my friends went to a few parties and we ended up getting so drunk that we had to take a cab back to our hostel. Unfortunately the cab drive got lost and we ended up somewhere near Saint Peter's. The drive then kicked us out and cursed us in Italian. We then wandered around and decided to just sit on some steps just outside of Vatican City. All of a sudden we saw a man in a black cassock come towards us. He started talking to us in Italian, and then what I assumed was Spanish. Then he said `` Oh Americano. You need help? Come eat with me!'' However someone snuck up behind the old man and stabbed him. He then ran off but a group of Swiss Guards chased him down. He was then caught. We then just stood there and watched until one of the guards came up and started talking to us. They then took me away into Vatican City. `` What's wrong?'' I asked the guard. I could n't quite understand what he was saying but I think he said something to the effect of `` You ca n't be doing stuff like this Francis.'' I then replied. `` No signore, no es Francesco'' in my broken italian spanglish. The guard then laughed. Just then I saw another Cardinal. I then heard him talk and he was definitely American. `` Grazie Francesco. I hope you'll be more careful out there.'' `` Look can you help me? I'm not Pope Francis. Really i'm not him.'' `` I see you've been working on your English. Preparing for your next visit to the states eh?'' `` No i'm serious.'' The Cardinal then walked away. I was then taken to the Papal apartments and then the guard walked away. I then saw the opulence of the apartment and thought to myself `` It's good to be the Pope!''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 447, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0440", "text": "`` Holy shit'' Those were the first words Dr. `` Alien Expert'' said as he reviewed the the weird recordings the extraction team found in the ship we took down 18 hours ago. It's been 21 days since they showed up. Millions of lives have been lost and our only hope rested in these weird ass recordings. Of course, I haven't seen anything yet because I don't have clearance. I'm just another soldier standing in the corner while everybody is scrambling to figure out our next move. The aliens were kicking our asses, and by `` ours'' I mean the whole damn world, not just the USA. The attacks began in northern Montana. 8 days later Austria got hit. Then France, Germany and Holland were attacked. Spain got the worst of it all. The country doesn't even exist anymore. We needed something. Anything. Various military leaders from different countries were here in the same room. Anxiously awaiting what the alien expert would say next. `` Holy shit'', he repeated. `` Doctor Caellum, what do you see? ``, asked Fleet Admiral Kane. `` Does it show something that can help us?'' The doctor turned towards us with tears in his eyes. He could barely speak but I caught what he said. `` This isn't their first visit'' The room went silent. Doctor Caellum composed himself and explained the situation. These aliens had been here before and had to flee Earth because they lost the war for the planet... against fucking dinosaurs. They've been planning this invasion for millions of years. `` So...'', Secretary of Defense Oliver was flabbergasted. `` What do you propose we do? Call Japan and ask for Godzilla? We're fucked.'' Lieutenant general Takashi didn't seem amused by the Secretary of Defense remarks and just proceeded to ask the important questions. `` It took a lot of manpower to take down this ship. Can we still defend ourselves? Can humanity survive this attack? ``, Takashi asked. Doctor Caellum proceeded to explain with enthusiasm that the Aliens wrote briefings fearing the `` new species'' is not as useless as they seem. Cocky bastards. The whole room went into a frenzy planning the next move. Everybody was trying to come up with their own plan. Wasting precious time. I couldn't keep listening to the pointless arguing and just spoke up. `` Permission to speak freely, sir'', I shouted, not exactly knowing whose permission", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0441", "text": ", leaving a trail along the deep imprints left from hooked feet. They called it a wendigo. The creature appears throughout their writing, in every state they crossed through, they both wrote of scared natives who refused to lead them down easier paths, saying that these lands were where the wendigo lived. They ignored their guide once, preferring the easier crossing that a forested valley provided over hiking over another mountain, they turned back after the third skeleton they found with the jaw removed and the skull crushed in. I've read before that any animals that eats a man will eat the body in the following order: the thighs, the glutes, the fat deposits on the front of the belly, the tongue, and the brain. Lewis and Clark noticed that these people seemed to have died in reverse order, the teeth marks rarely were on the thigh bone or the tailbone, but they were always on the skull. The strangest part about having your brain eaten is that you're alive for longer than you'd expect. Your brain is filled with redundancies for the major functions, it's the reason brain damage can cost you the ability to speak or to regulate your emotion, but your heart will keep beating. Cannibals used to believe that eating a man's brain gave you his power. There would be festivals where a man had his head placed through the center of a table, exposing only the top of the scalp. The flesh and bone would be removed with an obsidian blade, and as the sacrificed screamed underneath the table, high priests and kings would dig into their meal with polished stone spoons. I have heard before that people taste rather like pigs. Lewis and Clark only saw the wendigo once, while they were traveling by torchlight through the green woods of western Oregon. They said they couldn't hear it, but that it appeared in the shadows of the trees, a tall and gaunt beast that would have blended in with the branches if it wasn't moving. It followed them for the full night, disappearing when they shouted and banged their pans and shot at it, but reappearing every time. The party didn't sleep until long after dawn broke, and even then, a member disappeared. They could have followed him, the screams let them know exactly where he was, but courage escaped them and eventually the noise stopped. There have been periodic sightings of wendigos ever since. I am sure if you have any friends living west of the", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0442", "text": "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 his audience. `` Of course, an island does not move, being a thing of unthinking rock,'' he went on after a beat, bringing them back down to reality. `` But on my visit to Isla De La Plata, I asked the elders about this fiction.'' `` They told me this story, the same that I now tell to you.'' `` Long ago, the elders say, all life lived below the surface of the ocean. There was no land, only water. Many creatures lived in the water, big and small, eating and mating and dying, never seeing anything that could be land.'' `` But the god Cipatli, the great crocodile, saw that his many children suffered in the water. They were unable to hide from the other predators, and they appealed to their great father for aid.'' `` Cipatli thought long and hard, and he feasted upon many of his offspring to gather his strength. With his great might, he dove to the bottom of the sea, scooping up the mud and raising it up, so that it might offer a barrier, a new land where his children could thrive. But he had nowhere to place the mud.'' `` Here, the great Huitzilopochtli-'' Herrington struggled with the unfamiliar name, but his audience, spellbound, didn't seem to notice, `` -came to Cipatli, with cunning and a golden tongue. Huitzilopochtli convinced Cipatli to hold up the mud on his own back, to create a shelter for his children. Cipatli agreed, and spread the mud across his great back and rose to the surface of the water.'' `` But Huit", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0443", "text": ". 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 him was like nothing I'd ever experienced. I won't be coy, I was in no way a virgin. I'd had bumping awkward sex with my high school boyfriend and a brief fling with a frat guy the year before. But this... this was the first time I was fucked. He made me come over and over before following through with his own loud orgasms. We did it in every part of that hotel room: the bed, the chair in the entry way, the counter in the kitchen, the shower, everywhere. When we left the hotel the next morning, he drove me to my car, kissed me goodbye, and we parted. I got home and found a wad of bills in my purse with a note attached: For Your Education < 3. I felt uncomfortable spending the money, instead just placing it into a savings account. It didn't end there. At least twice a week, we would meet up and have the most amazing and mind-blowing 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0444", "text": "Shoot! I woke up late. I pulled whatever clothes I could find out of the drawer; they ’ re all basically the same. I check the mirror to make sure the top is lighter than the bottom. That ’ s the only fashion tip I know, and I need to look good today. Today is the first day of high school, a new start, and I am not going to mess this one up. This past summer, I finally convinced my parents to move me to a private school. In my public school experience, I was constantly bullied. They laughed at my appearance, my hobbies, my voice and I was done with that. Today I was going to make a great impression, make lots of friends, and finally be that popular kid. It all begins with this, the first day of high school. I put on my backpack, grab my lunchbox, stick a slice of toast in my mouth, and I ’ m out the door. If I sprint, I might be able to make it before the opening ceremony starts. As I round the corner onto the main road, I see a cat. I ’ ve heard bad things about cats. Some of my neighbors tell me that dark cats cause bad luck. I ’ m hoping this doesn ’ t mean I ’ ll have bad luck at school today; I ignore the thought and keep on running. I see the gate up the street and there are still other kids walking in! Thank God! I ’ m going to make it! The five minute bell rings as I make it through the gate. Now I need to head towards the auditorium. I stop to check one of the floor plans posted in the halls; I find the auditorium and continue towards it. I stop outside the doorway. I ’ m a little out of breathe, so I want to regain some composure before I make my grand entrance. I take a deep breathe. As I ’ m about to step through the door, someone shoves me to the ground. I lie there for a few seconds. Everything is ruined. My grand entrance, my chances to be popular, my new high school life is gone. Tears form, and I try to hold them back as I pick myself up. Suddenly I notice something change. It ’ s impossible for me to describe what I see, but it makes me feel warm. There are still shades, some lighter some darker, but there ’ s something more. Nothing looks like it did before. My", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0445", "text": "you knew this would happen.'' She nodded. I stormed out. ** ______________________________________________________________** *I need to talk to you, coffee shop in twenty. * The text was from a number I didn't have saved in my phone anymore, but I knew it by heart from having to dial it in a panic. It was the reason that I was known as one of the best cameramen in the business. There hadn't been a lack of job offers from news stations, but I was out of the news business now. Documentaries, working with a group of old friends from film school while I tried to find funding for one about people with supernatural abilities. She walked into the coffee shop two minutes late, wearing a yellow sundress and sunglasses big enough to cover half her face. She had taken to dressing more towards her looks recently. I still saw her online, and on the television. I waved to her, but she was already walking over to the table while looking at her phone. `` You didn't specify a coffee shop,'' I mentioned as she sat down. `` I don't need to, I know which one you're going to go to, remember?'' `` Why are you here, Lisa?'' I tried to bring it right to business, but she didn't seem to be having it. `` You look good.'' `` I've been doing easier work.'' `` Bags under your eyes are gone.'' `` Yours are still there.'' She smiled at that comment, `` At least you still have your sharp tongue.'' `` Why are we here.'' She sighed as if she didn't know that I was going to be a pain about this, `` See the woman on the right?'' `` Yeah,'' I say while turning to look at her. `` She spills her coffee in four seconds.'' Four seconds later she does. `` What are you trying to show me?'' `` Want to know what happens if I had helped her?'' `` Sure.'' `` She doesn't go home to change now. Instead she goes home at the end of the day and ends up getting in an accident.'' `` So?'' `` So I helped her there, didn't I?'' `` No.'' `` I can't control every freak accident, so much happens that I don't know what's going to happen half the time. When I change the path everything gets fuzzy for a second, and it's terrifying.'' She looked down at the table", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 490, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0446", "text": "described what happened to me. I arrived in front of my door at 5:59 and she was already there. `` Well I see you showed up sir'' she said to me in a British accent. `` Um hello... uh... Carry was it?'' `` Catherine'' she chuckled `` Well since you showed up I'm assuming you are wondering why I came to do talk to you, well If you let me in I can explain.'' Normally I wouldn't let strangers into my home but she just felt like she knew something I didn't. I let her in and we both sat on my couch in my living room. `` Have you ever mocked a fairy tale princess'' she asked me abruptly. `` Huh?'' `` I said have you ever mocked a fairy tale princess that could have something to do with your curse.'' There it was again the word `` curse'' she clearly knew something I didn't. I looked back on my childhood before this whole weird curse thing started. `` When I was 7 I made fun of girl toys and girly princesses I think'' I claimed `` Hmm that could be it, how much did you make fun of them for and did you talk to a girl about how stupid they were or did you just think this.'' `` Uh... I... I think I made fun of them for about 3 weeks then I outgrew it and moved on. I think I made fun of a girl though... yeah I did she had these dum toys and these stupid pig tales. I always said those things would be so stupid in real life!'' `` THAT MUST BE IT'' she shouted `` That girl might of put a curse on you if she grew enough of a grudge and 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0447", "text": "his bag in hand as Nigel walked out of the bathroom with his TNT held high. AT the same time both hijackers said, or rather Nigel said and Chad squealed, “ Attention ladies and gentlemen! I have a bo…. ” Chad turned around at the sound of an echo and noticed Nigel standing at the back of the plane. He then took notice of what Nigel was holding and promptly let out a tiny scream. “ What!? ” An elderly man in the front row asked, “ What did they say? ” “ I think they said they got a bong, Marty. ” “ Oh, well that ’ s nice. ” Marty quickly fell asleep and died. So, technically, Nigel and Chad were only responsible for the deaths of 87 people. “ You daft wanker, am I being punked? ” Nigel shouted. “ Did Clarisse put you up to this? If she did I swear to you that you ’ ll regret ever stepping foot on this plane. ” “ N…No…? ” Chad asked, for the revelation that they was now a second bomb on the plane robbed Chad of any confidence in the reality of the situation. “ I…. ” 34 minutes into one of the flight attendants actually noticed the TNT in Nigel ’ s hand and began to scream. By the time minute 35 rolled along the entire cabin of the airplane was screaming. Nigel rushed at Chad and tried to grab his bag away. “ Give me that bag you filthy American. The EEP will not be made a fool of by some two bit, wannabe hijacker! ” “ Uh… ” Chad tried to say. Unfortunately a very large, very angry looking man stood up front the back row and began to make his way towards Nigel and Chad. “ UH! UH! ” Chad grunted, darting his eyes back and forth between Nigel and the very big man. 36 minutes into the flight Nigel found his left right should being crushed in a vice-grip very much like the vice-grip of Hulk Hogan. He was subsequently thrown backwards toward the rear cabin and landed in the aisle is a thud. As Nigel struggled to get up he noticed that the clock had fallen off the sticks of TNT. He wasn ’ t sure what that meant. The very big man proceeded to grab Chad by the shoulders and lift him into the ceiling with great force. Unfortunately for everyone involved, ceilings, being solid things, don ’ t have very much room", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0448", "text": "Haha! I am joking with you, Francis. I know my English well enough.'' We walked into an elevator. `` There are trains, yes? The *métro*.'' `` Hah, you got me.'' `` I must laugh about these things. It has been a long day for me.'' `` Oh yeah. I can understand that.'' `` My brother committed suicide at the train station in Lyon.'' I stopped laughing. Béatrice continued to look up at the ceiling as the elevator wound upwards. She was still smiling, but her eyes were small and sad and tearing up. `` It was a long day for him too, when they passed the law. He had no one to help him.'' `` So you've told me.'' `` I just can not believe this has happened to me.'' I stop the elevator. There is an alarm ringing, but we both ignore it. She leans into my shoulder and sobs loudly, throwing her carry-on bag on the floor and wrapping her arms around mine. I feel another spark, a bigger one, as she holds me tighter than before. I hug back. `` It's going to be okay. We're going to get you help. All of us.'' She nods, and squeezes me. Then she lets go. `` I should not be crying. It is the jet lag.'' Her voice was resolute, but it shook slightly. `` It's okay.'' I touch the elevator panel, and it starts moving again. `` I'm sorry we have to take the train.'' `` I am not scared of it. I will be fine.'' `` What was your brother like? If you don't mind me asking.'' `` He was a strong man. You should have seen him. He would lift weights over his head like licorice.'' `` I've seen a few who can do that.'' `` Is it not fascinating?'' `` Not as fascinating as you.'' `` I am sure you say that to all the pretty girls.'' `` I want to see you do it, though. In person for once. Can you show me?'' `` Ah!'' She pretends to be offended, putting her hand over her heart. `` We are in public!'' `` We're in an elevator!'' `` Later. It takes a lot of energy. I am too tired right now.'' `` Okay, sure.'' It is a long ride up to the subway level. The elevator is slow, groaning as it", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0449", "text": "that was absent in his face. Approaching the hole in the wall, Stalvern found he had blown into a secure lower-level access, with brief flashes of orange illuminating the dark stairwell's lower levels. A handful of possessed UAC workers crowded the corner, horrified by the Sergeant's arrival. One of them cried out. `` He- He's got a gun! He's going to shoot us! He's going to kill us!'' He was evaporated by another stream of blue projectiles, along with others, resulting in a plasma fire that buckled and cracked the concrete of the room. Stalvern dropped into the stairwell and made his way into the lower levels, following the sounds of horrid screams and bestial roars. The lowest levels of the UAC facility were now completely overrun by... something, a red-colored fleshy mass covering the walls and distant fizzles and pops of things materializing in the lower levels. With his foots sloshing through the mass, the Sergeant wandered the empty halls before making his way into the Research Labs. Reaching to his belt, he'd unclip a thermal flare, tossing it into the darkness of the laboratory, the light immediately illuminating inhuman shapes and glimpses of gruesome creatures huddled together. Unleashing blast after blast of plasma into the shadows, something howled in anger, with the passing waves of plasma projectiles offering seconds-at-most glimpses at a very large creature forcing his way through the crowd, right arm entirely replaced by a high-tech rocket launcher and mini gun. Click. Fsssh-fwoomp! The rocket launcher ignited, launching a projectile from the shadows, the flaming trail of the RPG illuminating an army of demonic figures charging from the light and the mean motherfucker that looked to be the boss; Gigantic, with flesh warped and fused with technology in a grotesque mockery of natural life. Stalvern was quick to fall into a prone position, but the rocket's damage to the already taxed building's structure freed a loose chunk of rubble that pinned the man to the floor, legs being smeared and crushed under the weight. Letting out a scream of pain, Stalvern reloaded his weapon and evaporated one of the demon's skulls. The Cyberdemon approached, weapon in hand, and revealed itself to be a soldier in green armor, complete with standard UAC helmet. `` FUCK YOU!'' Stalvern shouted, going", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0450", "text": "tense and exclaimed to herself: `` THAT'S TODAY?'' Of course I asked her what she meant but she was too preoccupied with her sorrundings. I felt so irrelevant and contemplated going back to the weird man so he could finish the job or at least tell him to `` bite me''. This was of course a joke. Before I could manage to chuckle at my own joke I was interrupted by the lady. `` HIIISSH!'' she sounded just before a harry man jumped on me. I didn't get to see him. It was dark and it happened so fast. Non the less the lady somehow managed to fight him off, all the while I lay confused and still non confrontational about anything. When the harry man fled I was shooked but got on my feet. `` Did anything happen?'' the lady asked me. I answered that I didn't think so and that is was a good thing since I had already been bit once today. She seemed surprisingly calm and laughed a bit about the situation. A few minutes later we got back to my place. Romance intensified and I leaned in for a kiss. She dodged my attempt but took me closer. She then proceeded to whisper in my ear: `` I'll show you a bite'', as she sunk her fangs into my neck. I knew I was in a bad spot but something about the lady was so enchanting that I did not fight her. Actually, it felt great. I just wanted her to continue but she stopped almost immediately. `` WHO BIT YOU EARLIER?'' she demanded. `` Just some weird tired guy, probably a bit coo-coo after too much office time.'' I replied. she continued: `` Motherfucker. Now I also crave flesh.'' She then left me. I still don't get anything. One thing is for sure. I feel super weird now. It is like I am not me. I almost feel inclined to confront everyone I meet. Also I have started to get more harry. I have killer bangs now but I just wish that I wouldn't get *that* harry all over my body. I also started grunting more... It's weird. My dog just feels so enticing all of a sudden. But hey, maybe it is just a phase. We will see. Tomorrow marks a month from my weird day. I am thinking about going to the park.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 491, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0451", "text": "of the Abled.'' The'Abled' as they'd come to have been known were something that still remained to be a mystery to modern science. Throughout history despite the advances in technology, medicine and the physical sciences the Abled had been very much on the paranormal end of things. Unexplained occurrences such as floating lights, sounds that had no source and floating objects tended to be manifestations of such individuals. The majority of them were unable to correctly attune themselves before maturity and as a result were never quite able to get a grasp on their abilities. However those that did became extraordinarily talented in whatever specialties they focused themselves on. They also became a great asset, or a greater threat. `` Ah!'' Smiled Greaves `` and what's your parlor trick?''. Gregory raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips as he assessed the detective. He stared at Greaves for a moment before finally, almost reluctantly admitting `` I'm good with time''. Greaves made a face `` Time?'' he asked apparently unimpressed at the explanation. `` Can you maybe unpack that for me? Us normal folk don't quite understand whatever witchcraft, sorcery or magic you might do''. Gregory shifted uncomfortably and looked down at his shoes whilst tapping his cane on the grass. He pulled out a pair of gloves from his pocket, runes sewn into the fabric. Gold thread weaved into the soft leather forming intricate symbols of power that helped the Abled focus their talents. `` How about we get to it and I'll demonstrate as we go'' Sighed Gregory as he lifted his cane to indicate the tent `` after you''. Greaves grunted and stomped over to the tent. He lifted up the canvas flap and stepped inside. ( I'll probably finish this up when I get home from work )", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 365, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0452", "text": "like that. That's the closest I've ever gotten to being able to control anything about my power. I think she can see the starstruck wonder in my eyes because she looks at me and laughs. She thanks me for saving her from the dog and I awkwardly mumble something. I'm not really comfortable with being thanked. Sara. She tells me her name is Sara. I know from the moment I see her that she is the one for me. I ask her on a date and she agrees! Screw it, I don't need to come into work today. Besides, most people understand that things like this are more important than working. Besides, some people never meet their soulmate. I thought for a long time that I never would but Sara. Sara. I take her to this little Italian place on 32nd and talk for hours. I laughed, and she laughed. I honestly don't remember a whole lot of specifics but I think my face hurt from smiling so much. I do remember that I asked her what her power was when I noticed something moving in the window. This place had fresh herbs by the window and it looked like some wind was blowing outside. No, wait, it was only one of the basils. It was dancing. `` Yeah, that's pretty much all I can do, she said, nervously smiling and brushing her hair out of her eyes. You should see how much ivy is on my building.'' `` You should see how many bird nests are on mine.'' Her laugh is practically melodious and I can help but be elated. I don't yet know exactly how our powers will interact - sometimes it take a while - but we could have a little farm somewhere. I think that'd be nice. For a while we just sit there staring at each other and smiling, hopefully thinking the same thing. I hear the door open and notice a man come in the restaurant. I don't think I would have noticed him but he is practically bathed in sunlight. The glowing man walks by our table and something happens - he turns purple. I think he is as surprised as everyone else is because he stops and stare at his hands, mouth agape. Sara turns around to look at this glowing man and the light changes back to sunlight. He looks at her and his glow starts to pulse and softens to a pink sunset. Out of the corner of my eye I can see the basil practically erupt", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0453", "text": "*So this is my first reddit post, I'm preparing for a timed writing test/interview. I used this prompt to write a quick scene from a plot I've been working on for some time. So it is slightly out of context. * The garden behind the grand hall was unpaved, the plants grew naturally, not curated. The dry desert dirt formed a cloud behind him as Raenin's determined wolf hide slippers ran forward, his rough olive toned hands holding his robes so as not to trip. The grand hall was empty. The oak carved benches and tables lined the matching oak walls without purpose. Raenin proceeded through the garden seating area and into the empty wooden room. `` Phirae!'' he shouted `` Jihah!'' The cathedral ceilings seemed to mock his shouts creating smaller ones to follow. The tall, tan and well-built young man looked to his left. The oak paneled wall was unmoving, there was no door but he could tell no one was behind it. The archive was empty. He peered to his right at the long narrow hallway. He ran. weaving through the unpolished oak pillars he looked for one of the seven doors to be open. `` Phirae!'' he shouted again. A noise came from behind him. Feet beneath a padded dress, from the kitchen at the front end of the hall. Raenin turned to see Ms. Forsythe; Phirae's house handmaiden wore an unusually stern expression and lifted her finger to signal the boy to quiet. `` Where is she?!'' Raenin's breath refused to calm, `` Where?!'' `` Calm down, boy.'' The large but strong woman reached for his arm, `` They've left for the council meeting already.'' `` I must find them. It's been taken. The second book has been taken.'' `` Taken? You don't mean stolen, my boy?'' `` Yes. Stolen.'' `` That's impossible, they've all been at the meeting. No one is home. Save me and Greig. And he's most assuredly been with the horses.'' `` I know it wasn't you or Greig.'' Raenin grabbed the woman's slightly thick forearm pulling her back through the hall outside and around to the far left end of the castle. The entered the archive through a small door in the center of the wall. It opened easily, broken. Ms. Forsythe looked at Raenin worriedly and", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0454", "text": "He was rather well-preserved, his body protected from the harsh Martian climate in a strange-looking spacesuit. Alone, he sat, against the wall of the cave, covered in thick sheets of dust though the cave's interior was remarkably still. The nervous Martian colonists funneled in. Jan, recognized by the group as their `` leader'' in the closest capacity Mars could be said to have one, led the small party into the cave with cautious, controlled pace. Diagrams and charts littered the floor, also coated in heavy, red dust. Boxes and consoles with faded screens and panels watched the cave's intruders in silence. The silence was palpable; the tension, unbearable. `` Someone get Ground on the line,'' Jan ordered, and one colonist quickly shuffled out of the cave to comply. `` Will ya look at this,'' one started. Jan turned around and saw a colonist had begun rifling through the papers and charts across the floor. The one he was holding looked to be a picture of Earth. Eons of aging had faded the sheet considerably, and yet, somehow, it was recognizable. The blue marble, riddled with swirls of green... a home they'd never return to. `` Here's a diagram of human anatomy,'' another added, and Jan saw this one had indeed found an illustration of the human body. `` And look at this!'' Shouted a third, gesturing to something that appeared to be a message scrawled into the wall. Four words, written in an alien text. `` Quick, somebody, go run a scan on the papers found here, and have that imported to data management. Maybe we can crack this code,'' Jan ordered, and the group set in motion. Jan walked over and regarded the corpse once more. *A lifetime stuck on this planet, but at least we've got company now, * she thought. With a heavy sigh, a tear dropped to the front of her helmet. *Neither of us are leaving this rock, * she added, and began to mull over it all. She'd die on the big, red rock, like this man had millions of years before her. But none of the colonists knew that the deceased landed on Mars with a mission much braver than their own. A mission of solitude, an ensured lonely death. Millions of years prior, as the scientist in the cave breathed his final breaths, he looked over the machine's readings again and", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0455", "text": "seconds. The approach of the unknown enemy is unaltered and an uneasiness rises across the battlefield. Seasoned soldiers from the war began to bark at the marines, rallying them to get ready to make a stand. You can hear the horses breathing hard. They're getting close. The soldiers deploy the trenchers, digging trenches instantly. They jump in preparing to hold there defensive line. The enemy approaches at about 150 meters all at once the riders draw there swords and suddenly the horses accelerate running all out. They are met by a barrage of bullets. Within seconds they are on top of the marines break through their line. Chopping and stabbing as they go. Most of the horses cleared the trench and the riders jumped into the trenches as blood flies everywhere. I stand in astonishment, in front of me I have just witnessed a bloody violent confrontation and as I realize what I had just seen, that's when I see it. A young Marine who has confronted a rider. The riders horse appears to have misjudged the trench and took a spill breaking its neck the marine fires on the downed rider and the shots hit his armor without penetration. The marine changes to incinerator rounds and fires. To no effect, the rider gets its senses and begins to stand. It is just over 2 meters tall and stands on its 2 feet. Its clearly not from this planet but it resembles us. The rider rushes the marine. Within a second it has pushed its blade through the marines chest. But in the marines right hand he held his dagger and with his last bit of strength he plunged it into the riders neck. An explosion of blood came from the rider and a cry that stopped his companions in their tracks. They turned and flocked to there wounded soldier and surrounded him. In this moment the surviving marines fell back. They're heading straight for my barn... Edit: spelling and grammer Part 2 tomorrow...", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 394, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0456", "text": "gates you ever had.'' I ran. I'm not ashamed to say it. I ran, and ran, and ran. I ran until I couldn't run anymore. It seemed unfair, that I would get tired here. That I still had the limitations of stamina even after I had died. But I did, and the mob was close behind. Then, just as they closed, I heard a faint beeping. It slowly faded in, and the mob grew faint, and the expanse around me grew dark. The last thing I remember seeing, before it all slipped away like a bad dream, was that woman slashing at me with her car keys. They bit into my hand as I raised it to protect my eyes. And then came an explosion of pain from my chest, so powerful I imagined that I had been shot. My eyes fluttered open to see the inside of an ambulance. There was an IV taped onto my hand. My chest was bound up tightly, bandaged around the massive shard of plastic and aluminum embedded in it. That was the pain, I realized. I could see Julie looking down at me along with a woman in the uniform of an EMT. Julie was crying, absently holding a bandaged shoulder. The EMT looked intensely focused, but I saw her relax just a bit when she glanced at a monitor next to me. `` He's coming around,'' she said. It took everything I had to look over at my hand, to look at a wound that was fresher than the others - a ragged cut just beginning to bleed out onto the flesh around it. The car keys that gave me that wound stuck in my mind for some reason, blending with other snapshots of the bizarre scene I was still trying to process. Car keys. The security checkpoint, just inside the gates. Flaming swords. And bronze armor. And then it clicked, and I chuckled despite the pain. I knew what I had to do. If I made it through this, I knew what I had to do. It took months. First convalescence, and then research, and then worming my way into every favor and secret I could find in the secretive ranks of the Quantum Tunneling Transit Administration. But finally, I stood on the room-sized pad of the teleporter I operated day in and day out. Julie was at the controls, running down the checklist I had written on a notepad and walked her through over and over until I was confident", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0457", "text": "I watched as Kevin made the small flame dance across the tabletop to the delight of everyone who watched. `` That's awesome Kev.'' I said as he snuffed out the small flame. The small crowd that had gathered around to see Kevin show off his newfound power groaned with disappointment and begun discussing their own experiences. Ever since the human race had been changed in the event, everybody developed a power by the time they were twenty-one. Some were major, some were minor, and some were useless. But everyone was regulated. Those who refused went rogue, and had to deal with the big guys. `` What did the examiners say?'' Said Stacey, sitting down at the table. As always, she had several flowers interwoven into her hair. Each one was pointed toward the window. Stacey could control plants, make them grow, make them move, some people said she was actually part plant. `` They think my powers will grow, they said to come back in a few years, as it is I can't make a flame much bigger than my hand for now!'' Kevin said, igniting a small fire ball in his hand again. Without warning a torrent of water bounced across the table, literally bounced, before splashing over Kevin's hand and extinguishing his flame, not to mention soaking the entire table. `` Hey!'' Kevin said, looking towards the culprit. Laughing, Brad strode towards the group and sat down with a flop, water twirling around his wrist in a constant stream. He always kept a little bit of water on his body, mostly for pranks. `` Pft. So you can light candles now, big deal. You'll probably never advance beyond that!'' `` Jerk.'' Said Kevin. But he was smiling. I smiled too. It was unlikely that any of my friends would be placed into duty for the Establishment, but that was fine, that way they wouldn't be hurt. Their powers were minor, so they were allowed to roam free. Stacey turned to me suddenly, ignoring the small wrestling match that had broken out between Kevin and Brad. `` You must be excited huh Drew?'' `` What do you mean?'' I said. `` Well you turn 21 next month right? You should be getting your power any day now.'' `` Hey that's right!'' Said Kevin, who had Brad in a headlock. `` Any idea what it might be?'' `` Oh,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0458", "text": "* ” The main difference between a Fairy Tale and an Urban Legend is that one is a story. ” * * “ And the other? ” * * “ The other? Well, it ’ s a different type of story. ” * -- - “ The bogeyman is just a fairytale, you know, just like Santa and the Tooth Fairy. Adults tell us those stories to get us to behave. ” “ But… But… I saw something under my bed last night… ” “ It ’ s just shadows or your eyes playing tricks on you. The bogeyman is just a story. It isn ’ t real. ” “ But… I… If you say so… ” “ Yeah, I say so. Just believe me. Fairytales aren ’ t real. ” -- - *Once upon a time, children were told to clap their hands if they believed. And so the children clapped their hands and they believed. * *The children believed in the world, and in turn, the world believed in them. * *For legends, myths and stories are only as real as the people that made them. * -- - The thing is, when people think of Fairy Tales, they think of stories used to lull young children to sleep. They think of others writing these tales down as entertainment, as stories merely to read for nothing but enjoyment or education. People don ’ t think that these stories are real. But Urban Legends? -- - *Seeing is believing. * *But do you have to believe to see? * -- - “ Tim is missing? But I just saw him yesterday! ” “ He went missing last night, his mother said he was still there when she went to check on him in the middle of night, but she couldn ’ t find him when morning came. ” “ Tim… he… disappeared in his room? ” “ That ’ s what it looked like. ” “ But… They can ’ t be real, they ’ re just stories! ” “ Stories? What are? ” “ The bogeyman! Tim said he saw the bogeyman and I didn ’ t believe him! So the bogeyman took him! Maybe if… maybe if I apologise to the bogeyman, he'll give Tim back? ” -- - *What are legends? * *Legends are a traditional story sometimes popularly regarded as history but not authenticated. * *What are urban legends? * *Urban legends are", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0459", "text": "out of atmo in less then ten minutes and in hyperspace within the hour.'' Iella said, somewhat boasting about how quick they could get off planet. Of course there were few who could do it faster, the fabled Han Solo would have boasted about being out and gone in less than a half hour, but his ship was, grudgingly Iella had to admit, much faster than the Stalker. `` What's the destination?'' `` Corellia.'' Iella swore to herself, as she maintain her cool externally, of course that was their luck. First job prospect in a month and they couldn't do it. Downing the rest of her whiskey Iella slid out of the booth as she rolled her shoulders to adjust her jacket. `` Sorry friend, you'll have to find someone else.'' `` What! You said you could go anywhere anytime.'' The Devaron protested as he stood, towering over Iella's frame. `` We had a deal.'' `` No, I said almost anywhere, almost anytime, and we had yet to shake on the deal. My crew and I don't fly to Corellia.'' Iella said with a chill to her voice. Internally, it hurt more than she portrayed. More than once she had dreamed about heading home, but that wasn't possible, not with the renewed interest the Empire had taken in Corellia since the Death Star had been destroyed. `` Now kindly take your business elsewhere, talk to the Jumpstar's captain I'm sure he'd be willing.'' The Devaron frowned as he looked down at Iella, `` Fine. Good bye Captain Recorn.'' He said before turning on his heel and headed back out the door. Iella let out a sigh as she headed to the counter top to drop off her tumbler. `` Sithspat.'' She muttered as she pulled out her credcard. `` Nah on the house Kid.'' Norn said waving his little hand, `` Trust me though, you've got a job on the horizon, I just feel it.'' The Sullustan said as he grabbed her glass and threw it into the sink of dirties. `` Thanks Norn. Sure doesn't feel like it sometimes.'' Iella said as she slid her credcard back into her jacket pocket. `` Catch you later, I've got to go tell the crew to stop getting ready.'' She shook her head and headed towards the door. Being a Core", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0460", "text": "It was- though of course, only at first- the worst thing ever. The others, from the shelf- they looked down and wondered- what would happen, if I could get back up somehow, there was a major commotion... at least, at first. I would wager it to have been mere days, no more than three, before it tapered off. The others still shouted down, of course, but I was soon forgotten. And since then.... nothing. Not that I heard nothing. That I was nothing. If the regular brouhaha of the store; the workers' radios KSCH-ing and high-heeled foot falls KLOP KLOP KLOP KLOP, walking down the aisles. Spoil'd kids' anguished cries to their parents, demanding THAT toy TODAY, and then the screaming and the tears and the parents' forced submission- THIS was to be the glorious life of a toy, I wanted nothng of it. But I'm nothing now. Merely a forgotten item, lodged behind the yellowing beige metal of the shelves. A stolen toy with no thief. Sometimes, I fancy myself a collector. A collector of dust. And at one point, I'll have more of that than myself. The workers call this place `` Kay Mart.'' I have no idea who Kay is, but if I see him in another time, I'll give him right what he deserves- a solid clock to the cheekbone. All of the toys are made by lowest bidder, and it's obvious. The fur on the plush animals always pulled off in your hand. Plastic mold lines were definite and pronounced. ( No wonder the lovely Strawbs across the aisle never gave me more of a passing glance. ) We sometimes barely stood up on our own. Children are BRUTAL on their playthings- one of many reasons I despise them- and we are not made for that abuse. We weren't manufactured for any good reason, merely to make someone veerryy thick in the back pocket and keep the irritating hellspawn at bay until dinner was prepared. When I first fell, I faced up. I'm fairly cerain my eyes are totally shot by now; day after day of staring UP into the bright flourescent lights. I'm sure even Hell will be dimmer. I woke up to a shudder one night, and I couldn't see what happened until the next day; my box", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0461", "text": "“ Ah, the ‘ Grave ’ General has news? Well, out with it! ” The young man nods his head, tearing his eyes from the beautiful Catherine to the note in his hand. “ Um, General Victor says that there has been movement of Indian troops near Vladivostok. There has been a sighting of a Giant Death Robot, along with several platoons of infantry men and several tanks. ” The Care Bear chuckles and shakes his head. “ The dear General pulls me out of bed for nothing. Warlord Gandhi has no strength left in him. He has moved troops near our border before and nothing has come of it. Gandhi is nothing more than a coward who makes threats from afar and does not act on them. He is inconsequential. Is there anything else the General is afraid of? Perhaps there is a monster under his bed? ” The Care Bear laughs and turns away, heading back to the bed. “ General Victor also mentions sightings of American XCOM squads near Volgograd, My Emperor. ” At this, the Care Bear stops. He turns slowly towards the young man, “ Did you say ‘ American ’ XCOM squads? ” When the young man nods his head, the Care Bear ’ s expression darkens. “ Those Capitalist Pigs! They dare mobilize against me? I should have taken out the oaf Washington 10,000 years ago! That forward settling, greedy, Capitalist bastard! ” The Care Bear snarls, pacing back and forth. Suddenly, he stops pacing and heads towards the young man. “ What is your name? ” “ Uh, Vladimir Ufa, Sir, ” the young man splutters. “ Well, Vladimir Ufa, you ’ re promoted to whatever position you want. ” The Care Bear starts towards the door, motioning for the guards to follow. “ Oh, ” he says, turning back to Vladimir, “ Do keep an eye on the Empress and fetch what she wants. I ’ ll be back to her shortly. ” With that, he turns and heads down the hall. Vladimir blinks and turns back to the Empress. When his dull brown eyes lock with her piercing blue ones, he gulps and smiles nervously. The Empress smirks and makes a ‘ come hither ’ motion with her finger, letting the covers around her chest slip slightly. Vladimir is undressing and hopping towards the bed before the thought is passing through his mind", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0462", "text": "`` What are all those lights, mommy?'' Mercy asked. She held on to her mother's hand. `` Sixty years ago, they were stars. I don't really know what they are now. Most of them are satellites, I think. A few of them are space stations. You see the ones moving over there. The quick ones. They're part of the security grid. They protect us from the Lunarians.'' She said, taking a seat in the sand beside her daughter. `` What are Lunarians?'' Mercy asked, squinting one eye closed as she considered the term. `` They're the men and women living on the moon. Two hundred years ago, scientist created cities on the moon to serve as labs.'' She explained. `` Now, they want to destroy us.'' `` Are they bad people, mommy?'' Mercy asked, staring with wide-eye wonder at the sparkling panoramic view above the sea. `` I want to say yes, but the truth is, they're just scientist. They want to learn. There were us who wanted to stay behind when NASA started colonizing. We want to keep Earth intact. They want to blow it up, and everyone on it.'' `` So, they're bad?'' Mercy said, phrasing it as a question, but really just looking for comformation. `` They're bad, baby. They hollowed out the moon. See the moon over there?'' She asked. `` I see it, mommy.'' Mercy crowed, pointing a crooked finger at the bright silver orb on the horizon. `` It's not a moon anymore. The Lunarians have turned it into a space station. They made it so it can travel through space. The only 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0463", "text": "`` Not today you son of a bitch. I see you. Not today.'' The nurse gave a sidelong glance at the surgeon muttering in half-whispers almost too quiet for anyone to hear. But she heard. The doctor did n't always mutter to herself. It was usually only in special cases: a car accident on the I-5 with a 16 wheeler that lost control; an idiot college student deciding he can jump into a pool from three stories up; or a 90 year old man who just suffered his third heart attack and whose wife was wailing in the lobby. She only muttered when the case was going to be close. Her usual routine was to wash up, get gowned, and get to work. Dr. Cardea was the best at only 34 years of age. She always worked calmly, quietly, skillfully and when the job was done it looked as if she had never been there. But on rare days, such as today, the nurse would notice an acrid smell would be lingering in the emergency room as she began her prep. It didn ’ t matter what case had gone before, or how well the room had been cleaned prior, the smell of decay would be wafting in the southern corner of the room. It was on those days that the nurse knew that her surgeon would break her routine. That she would stare hard into that corner, always the same corner, like she was facing down the death itself. On those days Cardea ’ s blue eyes would change steely grey, she would mutter words that only I could hear, and then get to work. Today was the same. As Cardea stepped forward to the table, to the newborn babe born a month too early with holes in his heart, she summoned all her skill and prepared to begin. But today was different. The smell was stronger. It was closer. It was surrounding me. At that moment she hesitated. She gave me a glare with such power I felt the need to run from the room in terror. But I didn ’ t. I simply looked back at her calmly and said “ Let me help you with that Dr. Cardea. You see, I have an interest in him as well. ”", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 455, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0464", "text": ". The image of it was enough to make her ill. “ What are we doing at Grandma and Grandpa ’ s? ” He asked from the back seat. She said nothing, scratching at the marks in the pit of her elbow, and takes him from his car seat. “ Mommy ’ s sick. ” She said. “ Mommy has to get better. ” She hugs him, prolonging the inevitable. “ Mommy, ” Christopher says, “ Why are you crying? ” * * * * * * A woman needs her independence. Free from the burden of life. I ’ d have more if I wasn ’ t raising him alone. When I find it, the release is sweeter than cracking knuckles, emptying a bladder or a good lay. I ’ m still in control, despite what Mom and Dad think. I can feel it immediately, as soon as it hits my veins. The wave of relief that hits me is enough to make me weep, as the day ’ s worries shake off of me. A shiver runs up my spine in the best way imaginable, and I slump back into the sofa; letting the tired cushions swallow me up. The light is no longer fluorescent; instead the room is cast in a golden glow. Everything has gained a hard edge, definition from blur. Colors, once dull and fading, now pop out with enough vibrancy to make me squint against them. Sweetly, wonderfully, nothing crosses my mind. The leaky toilet, Christopher in the other room, the bills stacking higher and higher on the coffee table… it ’ s not that I ignore them, it ’ s that they no longer exist. I think I ’ m smiling, but I can ’ t feel my face so I ’ m not entirely sure. The Joe I brought home grins at me. Things get hazy, but I see him press the plunger down on his own ride. I see the same contentedness sweep over him. He smiles once more and pulls the needle from his arm and catches my eye. He crawls on top of me, unbuttoning my blouse, running greedy hands over me. Somewhere in another world, a baby is crying. He ’ s heavy against me, his breath smells like stale coffee and day old booze. Then nothing ’ s there. It ’ s just me and my alone time. Not even the lights get through the shroud blackness of my high. Not", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0465", "text": "going to have tea and biscuits,'' The Hero said, as if he wasn't pulling stuff out of his ass. `` Wait moment.'' The Resent said, before seemingly dragging its body off screen. The Hero took the moment to look back at The Kid, asking in a hurried voice, `` How much longer till you get the thing ready?'' `` Gon na need another minute or two. Why did you think this would work?'' `` Resents are incredibly stupid, that's why.'' `` What is incredibly stupid,'' a new, more soothing, and more grammatically correct voice asked from behind The Hero. He turned around to see that a new figure, near identical to the one of the fleet's leader, had appeared on screen. Before The Hero could respond, the figure began to talk again, `` I am Rexeland, leader of the Reetreet Nebulae. You two must be the ones that have called us. Why have you demanded to speak with me?'' `` Uhh,'' The Hero stuttered, internally debating whether Resents were *that* stupid, `` Well, um, uh, Rexeland, it's been awhile. Don't you remember? It's me, uh, Que-Gorp Slabseedap.'' `` Slabseedap,'' Rexeland responded awestruck, `` Is that really you? You look so different.'' `` Well, you know, with body transfers and vocal cord replacements, anyone can appear different nowadays,'' he said after a moment of silence caused by him realizing they are that stupid. Rexeland's voice suddenly became darkened, troubled. `` So, do you still remember what happened? O -- on, Panea?'' `` Oh, uh, of course. How could I forget?'' The Hero had no idea what he was doing. `` The fleet commander, he said that you came to see me. D -- Does this mean that you've forgiven me? Does this mean you still love me?'' `` Hey, Hero,'' The Kid called from behind, `` It's open, should I press it now?'' `` Yes, uh, of course!'' The Hero said to the image on the screen. `` Great,'' the Resent said, doing its equivalent of crying, `` Then the war is off! I'll call the Galactic Federation and tell them that it's ov --'' Rexeland's victorious outburst was cut short by a synthesized voice coming from The Ship, `` Self", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0466", "text": ". Our house is gone. My family is is gone. So I hid, in plain sight. I went to the cafés, went back to university, learned to paint. What do you mean, “ just like the Führer ”? Not at all! The Führer would have had the Schule des Sehens burnt down, and everyone arrested, and I was there studying with the others this summer. Of course, the faculty has been gutted. I mean, Vienna isn ’ t Freiburg. And yes, of course Heidegger joined the party. At the time, I was as disgusted as anyone else, but I too had to play a part, and I figured he was playing his. Anyway, it isn ’ t like importing German professors because they can ’ t find jobs back home bothers the administration, or the Austrians going to Germany bothers us, right? Yes, I heard that some of your guards had come back as well, I heard about Adler. He ’ s a smart man. He kept the numbers of those whom you registered, but died after you liberated the camps. Of course, he made sure the bodies couldn ’ t be found. Quite a miraculous recovery some of them made, don ’ t you think? But the truth is, there is no other choice for people like me. Because of what happened with my father, Mutti never replied to the letters I sent her. Konstanze, either. So I don ’ t have a family anymore. Here, there is no future. Of course, I ’ m less of a victim than the Jews were! Yes, yes, I understand that what I did was bad. But I was also honest with you. I told you what I know about Adler. Now, all I want is to be able to build a life.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 373, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0467", "text": "*Please allow me to introduce myself* *I'm a man of wealth and taste* My cellphone rang. Two things occured to me. That is not my ringtone. And this is not my phone. I answered it anyway. `` Hello? ``, I said to the phone. `` I need you to look into something for me. ``, said the voice on the other end. `` The Apocalypse?'' `` No, *an* apocalypse. Not *the*, *an*. But I see you've been briefed.'' `` Not really. Hold on a sec. ``, I answer back. I take my jacket off, feeling my phone on its pocket before setting it down on the couch. I take a seat. `` Still there? ``, I ask. `` Dear child, I am always here.'' `` Uh-uh, fascinating. Why would you want me to look into it? Heaven says you started it.'' `` We didn't. They did.'' `` Are you telling me no one has any idea who started the -- sorry, this apocalypse?'' `` We know who. It was Heaven. They're just playing games.'' Great. A divine case of he said she said. I see no way this thing can blow up on my face. `` Assuming I believe you'', which I really don't, `` why would I want to help you?'' `` Given from your past actions you are firmly anti-apocalypse, are you not?'' `` Given from your past actions, you're pro-apocalypse. Why should I trust you?'' `` Because we don't want the world to end. Not yet anyway. We just want you to find out what it is. Then stop it.'' I stop and think. I got the same offer from the Mikey and his angels and I didn't get the sense that they were lying. And neither is the Devil. Then again I have been wrong before. Something's off. No one knows who started the apocalypse. Sorry, *an apocalypse*. It could be a rogue agent, a neutral faction or a batshit insane human. Whatever it is though, I need to get to the bottom of it. If Heaven and Hell's cold war stops, it's the humans who'll be collateral damage. And I don't like being collateral damage. `` I'll do it. Three things though. First, give me a something I can work with.'' `` It's on a manila envelope", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0468", "text": "Doc, where are we headed, anyway?'' Fred asked, looking around at the change in scenery. No cells here, just offices and laboratories with projects sitting half-finished on tables. `` I need to fetch some things, Fredrick,'' I explained, finally finding the door I was looking for. Locked, of course. I started turning drawers upside down, looking for the keys. `` Chemicals, mostly, for taking care of the psychopath.'' Finally, after tearing apart half the offices, I found the ring that had the all-important keys on it. Stalking back to the heavy bolted door, I started trying them one by one. `` They won't... like... hurt him or anything, will they?'' `` Yeah, we've got great ideas for some traps we can set up to catch --'' `` No, and no.'' I replied, searching the shelves. Face cream. Joy buzzer. Green hat. Metal umbrella. `` Jinkies... what is all this stuff? They don't look like doctor's tools!'' `` No, they're not.'' Toga. Bullwhip. Coin with a well-worn face. `` Doc... uh, why do you keep your chemicals in here?'' `` I don't, Daphne, others do.'' Puppet with a tommy-gun. Giant rubber mallet. Top hat with a 10/6 size tag tucked into it. A-*ha*. I bent down, collecting my tools again at last. *bark! bark! * `` Answer Scooby, man, what kinda doctor are you?'' `` Hmm?'' I pulled the piece of brown burlap over my face, fixing the filter over my nose and mouth. I fiddled a second with the gloves as I stood up, no taller but a much more imposing presence. `` I'' m a psychologist, sir, I study phobias. Johnathan Crane, at your service.'' Giving it a test spray, I smiled behind the mask. Still in working order, with spare cartridges sitting right next to the gloves in the evidence room. The outfit would have to wait; I had research to conduct, after all. No shortage of subjects, either. `` So tell me... do you know true fear?'' I stared at Freddie, the only one not backing away from me on instinct. Boy still had a little fight in him. I gave raised my hand, finger on the release", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0469", "text": "vious smile on the wizard ’ s lips. Parallax went to argue, but stopped herself. She thought about Nadir ’ s offer for a moment, and weighed her chances. With a shrug, she bent down to pick up the wafter. It felt soft in her hands, and bits of the top flaked off in the wind of the desert. She brought the wafer up to her face. She stared at it for a moment, steeling herself. With the thought of fifty gold pieces in her mind, and all that the money could buy, she took a bite, suddenly and quickly, diving in, trying not to think of the consequences. Her teeth tore easily into the soft wafer, and soon a piece was being chewed up in her mouth. The horror and trepidation Parallax had felt were soon replaced by surprise and delight. The brown wafer inside of her mouth tasted delicious. It was soft, moist, sugary, chocolatey, savory. It seemed to be some sort of bread or pastry, unknown to the realm of the humans. Parallax savored the bite, and reluctantly swallowed. Her eyes were wide in pleasure. “ So, how is it? ” Nadir asked, anxious to know. Startled, Parallax shook her head. She put on a sour look, and faced Nadir. “ It is … quite awful. Foul and disgusting; unholy even. ” She replied, putting the brown wafer into a small pocket. “ It must be burned. I ’ ll dispose of it as soon as we set up camp for the night. ” Nadir nodded his head in thought. “ Hmm. A shame. I wonder why a stone golem would be hiding something so awful. ” Nadir handed Parallax a small pouch of gold pieces. Soon, the two were off, trekking through the desert again. Parallax tried to hide a sly smile. She couldn ’ t help but think of the delicious beauty of the brown wafer, and made plans to have a little piece of it every night before she fell asleep. -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - Hope you enjoyed the story! I've got a bunch more over at my sub, r/ThadsMind, if you want to subscribe!", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 467, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0470", "text": "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 that I have keyed in on your temporospacial location, I can give you a little bit of a hint. We're going to get things started early. Perhaps then, when they come to kill us, we will have a better chance of surviving. There is little I can say, otherwise the time loop will become unstable. Just use your head, and you'll figure it out. We're smarter than we give us credit for. Use your eyes too,'' ** she said, I said. And then she simply smiled, knitted her fingers together, and rested her chin on them. I started to panic, unsure of what to do, unsure of what she meant. She was clearly rich. I mean the room she was in was fucking exquisite and that was like.... two million dollars worth of Nightwood making up that desk. My eyes darted around, trying to figure out what she meant - and then I saw it, I saw the symbol on the back of her hand. It looked like a tattoo, a tattoo of a circle and then a magical diagram within that circle and some strange glyph in the center of that. Her smile grew into an evil smirk, as if she knew I saw it somehow, and then she returned to the exact position that she was in when time froze. I took the cue and tried to do the same. Time unfroze, and it all carried on as if nothing had happened. The video ended. They questioned me for several hours and I played the clueless little twenty year old who was as confused as they were. I knew they'd be watching me, I knew it like I knew that I had to breathe to live. I also knew the mark on her hand was a bond,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0471", "text": "The boulder tumbled mercilessly down the steep slope, and after he lost sight of it he heard it, crashing against the ledge at the bottom of the mountain. He dropped to his knees, too exhausted to put the scream that was in his heart out into the world. Every part of his body ached. His broad muscles were impressive, but were not built for the task at hand. No human was built for such a task. And although the wretched man had always known that, it had never stopped him from trying it again. The only way out of this hell was to play the game; the boulder at the top of this mountain became his light at the end of the tunnel. He started his way down the hill, his calloused feet carrying him down the rough terrain. He could barely remember the life that existed before this one. Was he a king? Was he a slave? All images of the past were replaced by ones of the mountain. The gods had forsaken him to this pointless task, erasing every part of him that existed before and replacing it with this image, this blood metronome. Every roll of the rock was another strike of a massive clock that counted down the minutes to nothing, and served only as a tool that others could look towards as example. After hours of excruciating labor, Sysiphus moved the rock to the top of the mountain. The boulder tumbled mercilessly down the steep slope, and after he lost sight of it he heard it, crashing against the ledge at the bottom of the mountain.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 318, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0472", "text": "Ahmed had been under interrogation for a week now without showing any signs of cracking. His beard had been cut off and dark circles had formed around his eyes as a result of sleep deprivation. His fingers had finally scabbed up. They had thought ripping his fingernails out one by one would have been enough to break him, but they didn ’ t know how strong he was. He would die before breaking, he knew this in the depths of his heart. Agent Williams was watching Ahmed from behind the one way glass. She saw the look of steely determination in his eyes and knew that this was not going to be an easy task. Sighing, she pulled out her phone and dialled a number. “ Get me Agent Kowalski. We are going to have to use the Madison Protocol. ” A momentary silence followed, before she heard a reply. “ Roger that. ” Ahmed was blindfolded and led into a room. His arms and legs were chained to a chair. Two agents held him down, while a third agent pried his eyes open. A fourth agent delicately taped Ahmed ’ s eyelids to his face. Ahmed struggled fiercely, but a week of minimal eating had left him weak and unable to resist. Fear gripped the pit of his stomach as something was injected into his arm. He thought, “ What is it that they will subject me to? God have mercy. ” A projector whirred into action behind him and the white wall directly ahead of him suddenly came to life with the Touchstone Pictures logo. As a theme song blared from all directions, Ahmed felt at ease. He laughed to himself, “ Movies? This is your big plan? ” The Waterboy had been playing for an hour now and raucous laughter could be heard coming from Ahmed ’ s room. Agent Kowalski watched from the adjoining soundproof room and smiled. He knew that the MDMA that they had injected into Ahmed would have definitely kicked in. “ Boy I bet that son of a bitch is feeling pretty great right now. ” He smiled knowingly as he watched Ahmed, who was laughing away at Adam Sandler ’ s antics. “ Thank god this room is soundproof. ” Happy Gilmore started playing as soon as the credits for the Waterboy had finished. Ahmed felt at ease, his brain melting in a cocktail of happy chemicals. He watched and rooted for Happy Gilmore as he climbed the top of the Golf ladder", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0473", "text": "to fight the crowd towards the exit. Being pushed and prodded and severely injured, and too short to see over the foaming masses, I somehow ended up deeper in the store. Lost in the underwear isle. Shelves were being ripped clean. A huge rufus erupted a few yards away, and a display with racks of pants and shoes was tipped over. Through the chaos I heard screams of agony and saw flashes of several people pinned under the large shelving units. I couldn't fight it, I had no control of where I went, and the crowd carried me closer to the accident. There was blood on the floor and a twitching black man's arm swatted my leg from under a massive beam-like shelf. Thankfully, I was whisked away from the scene, and actually spotted a small break in the crowd, I ran through the opening, headed toward the big red exit sign that is only about thirty yards away, but suddenly my progress was halted by the closing in of human bodies. I'm stuck. A T.V. being carried smashed into my wrist and I was suddenly in tears from the pain, confusion and hysteria. Suddenly a shotgun blast echoed across the store. Then another. The crowd was quieter for a moment, and the swarming buzzing slowed down and everything seemed almost still. For about half a second. Then the screaming started. I was pushed to the ground and a woman fell on top of me. People were stepping on both of us running for the exit, running for the back, running into each other in chaos. My wrist screamed in pain, my ribs were probably broken, and I was pinned under this woman who was now unconscious. The last thing I saw was a boot coming down on my face.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 354, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0474", "text": "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. “ Well, ” he said, “ it looks like our mysterious patron wants to meet in person… well… personally at least. ” Guerro nodded. “ Think it ’ s safe? ” Arthur shrugged. “ Who knows. With that kinda money, whoever ’ s waiting for you probably has some pretty beefy security, and I can ’ t think of anybody who wants your hide that badly. And in any case, I ’ ll be right there with you, watching the neural-feed. ” Guerro took a drag from the syntharette, mulling over the invitation. Finally, he ashed the butt and looked up at the android. “ Get me the helmet. ” *** The transition into the virtual world was uncomfortable at best, and Guerro nearly vomited as it materialized around him. He could feel the reassuring weight of the neural headband, a comforting reminder that none of this was real. With a deep breath, he opened his eyes. Guerro had spent a decent amount of time flitting around the Net, chasing down wannabe hackers, number runners and the like, but he had never seen anything like this. Instead of the traditionally gaudy and impossible landscapes of the main haunts, Joseph stood in a garden, overlooking the ocean. He could smell the salt air, feel the breeze on his cheek, hear birds chirping in a nearby olive tree. “ Wow… ” Arthur said, his disembodied voice drifting on the wind, “ quite the set-up, must have cost a fortune. ” Joseph nodded, and looked around. He was on a terraced hillside among a meticulously manicured garden. The ocean swelled out before him, dotted by delicate sea spires. He turned", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0475", "text": "!!! `` ** I stopped, turned. She stood next to the bench, eyes and mouth forming a trio of wide circles. Looking at me not just like she knew me, but like I was some kind of celebrity. I knew immediately that I'd never met her in my life. One earbud popped out. `` Excuse me?'' Tears spilled out of her eyes like a waterfall as she blinked, struggling for words, and started walking toward me. One of her dirty hands was outstretched. `` Chris,'' she said, voice cracking. `` Oh my god. It's... what are you doing here?'' `` Do I know you?'' I refused to take a step back, but realized I would soon if she kept reaching for me like that. `` I...'' She stopped. Her arm dropped like a flag when the wind suddenly quits. `` Oh god. I don't know how to answer that. You will?'' At that second, this story might have stopped. I was tempted to say something like `` Whatever, lady,'' and continue my run. She could have guessed my name, and she was probably just another homeless crackhead. But as I looked at her, I realized she wasn't decked out like most homeless folks. Her hair was shoulder-cut, brown with a fair heaping of grey. The shirt she wore, although soiled, looked like something out of a designer boutique. Cream colored, with cutouts in the arms that showed her shoulders and elbows. What I'd first thought were dirty jeans, on closer inspection, were rayon women's slacks in dark blue. Rather than sneakers, she wore some strappy pumps that might have cost a lot, in good condition. I stared into her face for a good fifteen seconds. No bells ringing. I was positive of that. In my job, it was absolutely vital that I remembered names and faces. `` How do you know me?'' I asked, taking the other earbud out. My pulse stayed high. Sweat dampened my various parts that get sweaty on a run. `` I... we were lovers. Will be? Fuck.'' She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, finally looking away from me. Her smile was sardonic. `` This is *really* hard to explain.'' `` Oh really?'' I couldn't keep the sarcasm out of my voice. This chick was somewhere bettween fifty and eighty, in that", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0476", "text": "The Adventures of I-Can't-Believe-That-Just-Happened Man Vol. 13 Chapter 7 Paragraph 4 Subsection 3 Footnote 2.5: *** I-Can't-Believe-That-Just-Happened Man ( henceforth referred to as the Hero ) was walking down a quiet street in a little suburban village that barely made it onto the map in the years that they were deciding which villages to leave off the maps. Our Hero was here on holiday, and as such was sporting the kind of casual clothing you would usually see on the kind of guy who cared just a little too little about his appearance, and not his statistically improbable suit of geometric irregularities. Our Hero was also whistling, a dainty little tune the lyrics of which would shock a nun like a bolt of lightning hit her while she was in the bath. The Hero turned into the little cafe slash deli where the elderly and golfers would usually go for a quick snack during the middle of the day, and where suburban housewives would shop in an attempt to feel better about themselves by avoiding the supermarkets frequented by the common folk. His whistling carried him through the aisles until he was faced with a choice that always made him happy, super sour sherbet or crispy crisps ( possibly chips depending on geographical zone ). Today the crispy chips won the day, and so our Hero sauntered to the till to pay. The man ahead of him was kind of shifty looking, and very big. Suddenly he pulled a gun from under his shirt. `` Empty the register or the nerd gets it.'' he said, pointing the gun at the acne-ridden bag-boy. The teller was 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0477", "text": "long moments. `` Wait,'' the Lady of Hell said, `` You're okay with me being Satan?'' John shrugged. `` Sataness, isn't?'' He saw her look. `` Cmon,'' he plead. `` I was okay with you being a demon in the sack, wasn't I? Bondage and whips and chains and everything. It figures, now, why you were so good at it.'' `` Well,'' Destiny/Satan admitted, `` for a mortal man, I guess you are more fun than most.'' She flared again. `` But you're still a mortal!'' `` Jeez.'' John messed with his ear, feigning deaf. `` You're telling me. I work tech support, remember? That's not the worst insult I hear on a daily basis by far.'' Destiny/Satan sighed and took her hands off of him. `` Yeah,'' she said. `` I guess I really can't do much worse to you in Hell than tech support up here.'' John smiled. `` Baby...'' He stepped forward, resting a hand below her chin to look her in her white eyes. `` I don't care if you're the boss of Hell. No matter what happens, even if you fell like lightning, you're still an angel to me.'' Destiny/Satan cackled. `` You're so damned stupid, John,'' she said, her eyes returning to normal and her hellfire diminishing. The room began to return to normal. `` I can't believe you just used that line. That's terrible. You're going to Hell for that.'' She stood up on the balls of her feet and gave him a quick kiss. `` Where you're going to be my plaything forever.'' John wrapped his arms around his woman, whispering in her ear, `` There's worse afterlife fates. Can you imagine?'' he asked her. `` An eternity of tech support? Thanks, but no thanks. I'll take the whips and chains.'' Destiny/Satan snuggled into her boyfriend's shoulder. `` You just gave me the most wicked idea.'' `` I just put an idea in Hell's Suggestion Box, and it was accepted,'' John noted. `` Score.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 451, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0478", "text": "ans, 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 `` Drive'' the asset back to the ship, undamaged for collection. Unfortunately for the wearer, if the asset suddenly `` Grew a brain'' so to speak, the cognition feedback could have detrimental results... `` Switching to sub-system propulsion!'' the voice boomed over the intercom again. Sub system propulsion was used for in-system travel. It would be 24 hours before an asset collector ship would reach the `` Blue Marble'' planet seeded eons ago. The massive ship lurched forward again, this time with a different whining noise. There was nothing sexy about the sound of interplanetary or inter galaxy travel. Everything was high frequency, the noise was a constantly permeating. 3rd planet from the sun, this would be a long trip on sub-system thrusters. -- - Up in the Colorado Rockies, a fortress carved deep into the Cheyenne mountainside began sounding air sirens. The entrance door, a 6 meter thick amalgamation of concrete and steel slowly closes as soldiers rush back and forth. `` OK give me the situation'' General Peters asked as he hurriedly rushed into the situation room. He had been in his position for years. All new, young, fresh faces. Nobody lasted from when his was first given his post 20 years ago. Peters was one of the few Generals the men respected. He earned his stripes 50 years ago flying F4 Phantom sorties against the Viet-Cong, and earlier during the korean conflict. `` Sir we just got this from the Arecibo radio telescope'' All the monitors in the room, which up until that point had been displaying a world map with various graphs and statistics on it all synchronized to display a single image. At", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0479", "text": "out in this forest. I looked around all of the main floor and found nothing but a big metal door with a number pad next to it. I pressed my fingers against the door and it was freezing. This must be the lab. If I knew the code I could explore it and get some answers. I continued to explore the house by heading upstairs. I arrived to find a woman in a hospital bed down the hall. Her room was the only room with the door open. As I began to walk toward her, she turned her head and looked at me. “ You must be Ben. ” She said weakly, holding out an envelope. I took it, ripped it open, and begin reading the letter inside. By the time you read this, I ’ ll be six feet under. My wife, Ann, has pancreatic cancer. I knew the day I met you, you were the one to help me. To take place in my footsteps. I have studies cryogenics for years and have come closer than ever to accomplishing what other could not. Freeze myself to be revived and cured of my cancer in the future. However; I wasn ’ t fast enough to save myself or Ann. So, I have some work for you; finish my research and save Ann, before it ’ s too late. 1-9-9-4 is the code. I looked up from the paper and looked at Ann. Her body connected to machinery by tubes and wiring, keeping her alive. There are photos around her bed of Derek and her. They looked so cheerful. So alive. I couldn ’ t waste a second. I went down stairs and went back to the door with the number pad next to it. I entered the code in and the door opened. On the other side of the door was a stair case the led to the lab. On a hook next to the stairs is a lab coat with ‘ Ben ’ embroidered on it. I picked it up, put it on, and began my research.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 407, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0480", "text": "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 moisturize his lips. `` Well, a lot of my friend were already dead,'' he says. `` A lot of them were dying, but some of them were trying to get up. That's when we heard the first shots.'' `` And where did those shots come from?'' `` I didn't know,'' he says, but he did know. A guy named Martin or Martinez or something had opened fire from behind him. At first, he fired blindly into the air. He was trying to get his mask off with the other hand. He was screaming something, but the machine gun was tearing the air all around them. Another man, Jackson, took a grenade from his belt, pulled the pin, and rushed aimlessly away from the Stallion. He was chanting something in a language no one had heard and no one knew. He exploded several yards from the second Stallion, crippling one of the engines which began to burn. The pilots bailed, ran a few meters from the Stallion, then pulled their sidearms and shot each other without a word. `` What did you do?'' Katie says. Here, his mother says, this is the best part. In the video, he looks at the camera. His eyes are wet. `` I did what I had to do,'' he says. `` I did my job.'' His mother claps her hands together. That is my son, she says like she is seeing it for the first time. `` I ran to the downed Stallion and found Cooper and Estrada. She still had her mask on,'' he says. `` And by she, you mean Corporal Estrada?'' `` Yes,'' he says. `` She had a broken leg, but she was", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0481", "text": ". Didn't she deserve better? A solemn moment? Not a twenty-something head banger treating her like cargo to be rolled around. They called the family shortly after she was rolled out. They were on their way right after the call. A pre-funeral procession. I was left with the task of telling them what happened. She was my patient after all. My attending thought it was time I had one of these conversations. Hooray. No more safety net. Sink or swim... sink or swim. It kind of felt like that, like I was drowning. It was suddenly hard to breathe and I felt the panic rising in my chest. How was I so sweaty all of a sudden? I didn't get long to stew in this medley of terror. One of the nurses at the station nearby let me know the family was downstairs, waiting in the hall on the first floor. So I took that eternal elevator ride from the third to the first floor. Hoping it would have a malfunction. Then I'd be spared the task of having to tell them this news. It was weighing me down like Atlas' great burden and crushing my spirit. But the doors opened and I stepped out, looking quite the `` professional'' in my crumpled scrubs and messed up hair. This memory will be forever fixed in my mind. I turn to the right and see the family, the dad pacing and the mom clutching the two younger siblings tight to her chest. They look at me and I see something that breaks my heart. I see their eyes and I see in them the deluded hope that what they heard on the phone was a mistake, an error that the good doctor is here to correct. How can they not realize that I'm about to pass to them the most Herculean of burdens? They carefully study my face and when they see what's behind it, a part of them dies. Their hope blinding and then gone in a fleeting moment, like a dying star in the night sky. Their eyes water, the mom hugging her kids even tighter as though her grasp is a shield protecting them from the truth. The dad clenching his fists so tight, they start to turn as white as the bone within them. Their hope is gone and I open my mouth to say `` I'm so sorry, she didn't make it through the night.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 482, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0482", "text": "The machines beeped in the background, his last beep was coming near. He lay on clean white sheets contemplating his life. In ran a cadre of children, one of them carrying a frog that the older one was telling them they definitely shouldn't have in a hospital and can I hold it. He hugged them and told them each how much they meant to him. Then came his eldest daughter. There was grey in her hair now, and her smile had wrinkled, but he still remembered her as a little girl, all those years ago. `` Hello father'' `` Hello Daughter'' he smiled. A formal greeting. She had started to greet him like this when she was seven, and had been learning about ettiquette in school. She had thought it funny, and he had gone with it. As always. `` How are you feeling today?'' The little grandchild chimed in `` Do you want to see my frog?''. `` I think he will be fine without seeing your frog thank you sweetheart. Why don't you and your sisters take it outside to the pond where you found it''. The children made there way out, herded by the eldest who was just old enough to read the situation. She sat down. He flashed her a smile and started to speak before breaking into a coughing fit. She handed him a glass of water from the side board and he drank before sitting back. They sat in silence, accompanied only by the beeping of the machines. His heart ticked on its endless toil. She looked unfortable, and wiped away a tear from her eye. `` Dad, I know this isn't something people discuss, not even between family, but I wanted to ask about....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.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0483", "text": "?'' 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 walked out of the room and into the bathroom, where my girlfriend was standing. I shut the door and turned on the fan. `` Babe, what am I supposed to do?'' I whispered frantically. `` You know that I hate Magic! How could he not have seen all of my 40K stuff?'' `` What do you expect me to do? I don't involve myself in your hobby,'' my girlfriend replied. `` He's not here to take our souls, so there isn't anything to worry about. Just tell him the truth!'' `` Why am I so scared to tell him?'' I stressed. `` Hey, I really needed to go to the restroom, so give me some privacy.'' She pushed me out of the restroom and shut the door. I walked into my kitchen and grabbed a mug. As I opened the refrigerator, I grabbed some apple juice and poured myself a glass. I pulled out some cheese slices and began to munch on those. `` Dammit, I have work tomorrow,'' I muttered to myself as I glanced at the time. It was 1:00 now, and I didn't want to keep our guest waiting. I walked into my room and to my surprise, the Grim Reaper had sprawled his whole card collection across my desk. He smiled back at me. `` WHAT ARE YOU DOING???'' I yelled at him. `` That is MY desk that you are messing up. I want you to pack up your bags and GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!!!'' The Grim Reaper was shocked. `` But I didn't even get to show you my foil --'' `` I HATE MAGIC!!! I HATE TRADING CARD GAMES!'' I pulled my hair", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0484", "text": "eled toys and he slipped backwards, his legs dashing up into the air and his head cracking on the hard floor. This entire place had been booby-trapped, and the time for meditation was over. Anakin had lost his patience and was now operating under a bestial rage. Nothing could compare to his powers in the force – nothing, except, for the plucky courage of some younglings apparently. This rage was making him sloppy. When his feet were stuck in hydro-glue he merely ripped his boots off and strode on. He clattered through the shards of glass on the floor. He deflected the BB-gun aimed at his crotch. He didn ’ t care anymore, he was sick of these capers. He endured every little prank the younglings threw at him – including the hidden blow-torch and the resulting bursts of flame that emerged when he had sought to extinguish his burning hair and feathers in the waters of the refresher. This place was a death trap. Anakin could barely see; one side of his face was covered in sludge and feathers, and the other half was puffed up and burnt from the iron-droid. He ached all over and could barely feel his cut feet. Finally, however, he was able to glimpse the silhouettes of figures in the distance. The younglings! Screaming with rage, he began to sprint after the obfuscated creatures. He ran faster than he ever had before. He almost giggled with glee as he reached a figure and – SLAM! His face smashed into a wall and he fell on his behind. Someone had manipulated the light of the lumen globe with a shade, creating little shadow puppets. It no longer 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0485", "text": "It was a strange occurrence, honestly. At first, you're sitting in your office, fiddling about with the newspaper you forgot to read earlier that morning, and then you get a phone call. Now, don't get me wrong - This isn't peculiar for me. When you work late, your fiancee gets worried. I totally understood every time she called. However, this phone call was a lot different. I was sitting around with the newspaper, casually glancing at my computer screen as the data from the day's astronomical scan ran through my system. Before I could take a sip of the late-night *kaveh, * my phone rang. As I was about to mutter sweet nothings into my girl's ear, I was hastily interrupted by a gruff voice. He was my superior, Master Gregory. `` Harry,'' he said, his voice unsteady from panting. `` I need you in the observatory at once.'' I was concerned for him. It sounded like he was about to die. `` Master,'' I replied with a brow raised. `` What's wrong? Are you alright?'' `` No, no, nothing of the sort. Master Sanderson has just discovered something on the outer observatory post on the second satellite. He wants to stream the feed directly into ours. Get down here as soon as you can!'' As he hung up, I quickly pulled my jacket from the hanger and pulled it on, grabbing my *kaveh* before sliding the door open. Thankful it was in an aluminum container, I rushed downstairs as the *kaveh* sloshed about in its housing. It took me a few minutes to run across the complex. As I reached the domed building atop the westerly mountain, I took a quick glance above, looking at the second of our planet's two satellites in the sky. Sliding my hand into the groove of the door, I slid the observation's sliding doors into their pocket and stepped inside. Master Gregory clasped my forearm in greeting as he pat me on the back, leading me to the domed facility's interior. Approaching a console in the middle, the screen that was streaming the section of the night's sky our planet-bound telescope was observing changed to that of another perspective; An older gentleman's face was plastered on screen, with the expression of an excited schoolboy. `` Masters Gregory and Anastas,'' he greeted us. We bowed", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0486", "text": "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. ” If he could just make her comfortable then maybe everything would be alright. “ You know, ” John said, trying to keep his voice calm so that Trixie would know that she hadn ’ t done anything wrong. “ You know, you should put your tongue away. Maybe you ’ d feel better if you did that. ” Trixie didn ’ t move and her tongue lolled out of her mouth in a way that it never had before. “ Please, Trixie, please, just move a little. We can have tuna for dinner. It ’ s your favourite. ” John held her tighter, closing his eyes as his voice cracked. “ You can have tuna every day. Would you like that? No more dried food? Please? ” But Trixie didn ’ t respond and John knew that she never would. His little girl was gone. She didn ’ t look like herself anymore. She ’ d stopped being a living thing and now she was just an object that resembled a cat. Her fur was just as soft as it had always been, but it didn ’ t matter anymore. John was alone. Just like he ’ d been alone before he ’ d adopted Trixie. He wasn ’ t meant to have friendship or love in his life. He ’ d never done anything to deserve them. He could barely get on with other humans, why had he ever thought that having a cat would be any different? He ’ d doomed poor Trixie the second that he ’ d brought her to his home, because nothing good could come into his life and survive. He held her until she started to become cold and then kissed the top of her lifeless head. Trixie had been", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0487", "text": "left shoulder. I fumbled backwards and caught myself on a brick wall. I looked up just in time to see a gloved fist headed for my head, and ducked before it made contact. His fist crashed into the brick, giving me a chance to dive to safety and regain the upper hand. He turned to me, staring into my soul. His eyes were wild with such rage that I would have guessed him to be a wild animal. `` Just DIE!'' he shouted, his voice sounding like it had been filled with gravel. `` I am the HERO! I am the SAVIOR of this city.'' I drew my pistol from it's holster, but before I could aim it he was already on me. He quickly had me pinned to the ground, one hand restraining my own, the other arm pressed against my throat, his blades drawing blood. I tried pulling his arm away but it was no use. Even as worn as he was, he was stronger than I. I could feel the blades on his arm creeping closer and closer, drawing deeper and deeper into my skin until I could feel it had gone too deep. It wouldn't be long now. I could feel his hot breathe against my face, his growls of anger ringing in my head. I began to feel weak, I was losing too much blood... then... I heard a single shot... BANG I began to drift in and out of consciousness, first I saw my own body, covered in blood, I faded out. I faded back in, and I could see his unmoving body lying next to me, I faded out. For the last time I faded back in, and saw nothing, but heard one single, final sentence. `` That's for Mr. J'' BANG", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 357, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0488", "text": "“ We ’ re going to die down here. ” Erin said. Water slowly dripped from the cavern ’ s ceiling into the shallow puddle below. Erin sat with her back against the wall, arms wrapped around her knees. “ No we aren ’ t. Now be quiet or they will find us. ” He said harshly. “ What ’ s the point? ” Her voice rose and echoed off the wet stone walls. Mark ’ s fists clenched tightly as he stared at Erin. A low chorus of whistles and clicks made his head turn toward the narrow corridor. “ They ’ ve found us. ” Mark said. He rushed to Erin ’ s side and grabbed her arm to lift her. She tore it away from him and wrapped it tightly around her knees again. “ Suit yourself. ” He said and turned to flee deeper into the dark twisting corridors of the cave. It wasn ’ t long before Erin ’ s terrified screams caught up to him. The crew of four was now a crew of one. -- - “ Current depth? ” “ Just shy of five miles Captain. ” First Mate Erin responded. “ We are about to break records crew. ” Captain Mark Durham said to his gathered crew. The bridge of the Descent was cramped with four people. They barely had enough room at their stations without rubbing elbows with the person next to them. After five long years of planning, financial hoops that they leapt through they were about to realize their dream. The crew of the Descent would reach a depth that no man had ever achieved. “ Sir, I ’ m getting a strange reading on radar. ” Wallace said. “ What is it? ” “ I ’ m not sure. ” He said. The Descent drifted silently through the black waters. Small bio luminescent creatures flickered in the darkness. “ It looks like a wall? ” He said scratching his head. “ Slow engines, I want us crawling. ” The engineer pulled back on the throttle and tried to reduce their speed. “ Sir, we are not slowing down. ” Darrel said quickly. “ Engines full reverse! ” “ It ’ s not slowing us down! Something is pulling us forward! ” Darrel shouted. “ Crew brace for impact! ” The crew scrambled and sat in their seats. Harnesses were buckled tightly. Wallace ’ s eyes were locked on his screens. The submarine quickly approached the pale green wall. The round tip of the sub breached the", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0489", "text": "`` Ok, everyone. I'll be reading a brief statement and I ask that you please hold all of your questions until the end. As you may know, the President was scheduled to make a stop in Arizona this morning to meet with Governor Brewer. Afterwards, he took the motorcade south to visit the border area and meet with guards. And I'm afraid to report that there was a serious accident on the way, and the President has died.'' *Cameras click, reporters shout questions, and the Press Secretary holds up his hand to try to quiet them down. * `` As best we can determine, the driver for the president's limousine in Arizona was not properly vetted with the Secret Service. Or there was some sort of mix-up and the President was put into the wrong vehicle; we're still trying to establish exactly what went wrong and how this individual ended up at the wheel. Based on recordings from the driver seat, this individual seemed to be harboring a deep grudge against some of the wildlife in Arizona's nature preserves. He did not directly threaten the President, but instead went off the road in an attempt to kill birds native to the area. We are also looking into the possibility that he was experiencing hallucinations: at one point, he mentions following a bird into a tunnel, followed shortly by the sounds of a loud impact that match with hitting a wall or some other solid object. The recording also captures a'meep meep' sound that may be another driver's horn. We are still trying to locate this potential witness.'' *Reporters again try to interject with questions. The Press Secretary continues reading*. `` The President and this madman both survived that initial impact, as far as we can determine. In the recording, you can hear the President in the back seat, demanding to know why the driver is strapping missiles to the limousine. The driver only grumbles in response. As best we can tell, the driver then activated these rockets, sending the car careening through the desert and straight over a sheer cliff, plummeting straight into the canyon below. Beyond the wreckage of the car, the only evidence found at the scene was a wooden placard reading `` Oops!'' *More questions are shouted. * `` Finally, the American people should be reassured that this is not part of a larger terror plot. This'Wile E. Coyote' was a lone wolf, acting alone. However, his credit card bills", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0490", "text": "and bullshit business trips.'' `` I cried myself to sleep so many nights, until I got even with your brother.'' Even in this horrifying paralysis I felt a shudder. She had slept with my brother? More importantly my brother had slept with Jenny? What about his wife? I had so many questions and no time and no way to get answers. Lisa, of course she thought I was having an affair. Why didn't I think of what it would look like? Or even that she might call work and ask if I was really in D.C.? Lisa was my dance teacher. Jenny had been a ballroom dancer almost her whole life up until we had Zack. I was taking lessons in secret to surprise her for our anniversary. The `` business trip''... a bachelor party weekend with Brandon, the friend of mine that she hated. The late nights getting lessons, Hell maybe she saw the texts on my phone about my pelvic movement and flexibility... what a shitshow. The bi-polar, she was not herself. `` I'm leaving this world and you're coming with me'' she said through a piercing sob. She was erratic. Pulling her hair out in clumps, and hitting herself on the thighs hard enough to leave major bruises. She grabbed the garden hose leading up to the drivers side and took a long drag on it like a frathouse bong. I felt despair, the love of my life was dying in front of me and I couldn't even cry much less do anything about it. The terror of wanting to run, scream, move, or even cover my mouth and not being able to was devastating. I just lay there like a vegetable watching with futility as my wife became still, so still. I finally coughed, the exhaust was too much. The cough sent pins and needles through my shoulders, the sort of sensation you feel when your arm is asleep and comes back in the morning. It was enough to give me a twitch in my shoulder. First a little, then a jolt. I pictured throwing a medicine ball across the room with my left hand and my arm flung over to my wife now stiff with rigamortis. It was chilling. I twitched again with all of my might and managed to send the hose back out of the drivers side window. I felt like that bought me some time, but I was already fading. The adrenaline could only mask the asphyxiation for a moment. Still nothing from", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0491", "text": "`` She runs from me now. I think she's almost as afraid of me as I am of her'' Grayman relented. He had found himself at the most peculiar bus stop again. It was rusted and hidden away on a forgotten road, in a town that wept every night. `` I think she hates me, and it's all my fault. You see I was a fisherman once.'' Grayman sighed and looked down at his new silent friend. This man had a peaceful presence about him. He sat upright in a wheelchair with a slight bow at the top, His face was sharp but completely hairless, his eyes saw everything clearly yet were hazy and lazy, and his ears were blue from listening to the world for so long. Yet he still smiled. `` I fished with her for thirty years. We would sit on the same dock together everyday as I cast my line out, all the while catching nothing but seaweed. My line would snag something big and I would smile and thank her, but it always turned out to be seaweed. She would smile, laugh a condescending laugh and tell me to try again. In hindsight it was naught but an elegy wrapped in encouragement my friend, as sad and clear as day. Then one day I caught a message in a bottle. She told me it was what I had been looking for this whole time, a dream come true, but it turned out to be someone else's dream and I threw it back.'' Grayman frowned as he said his next words. `` I stopped fishing.'' `` I didn't mind the seaweed so much as I minded her. As I got older she replaced her laughter and smiles with snickers and sneers every time I brought in the seaweed. They just added more and more weight to my pole until it was too heavy to hold anymore. I set it down and started to wait for the fish to come to me without caring if they actually would.'' He trailed off, completely stunned, as his gaze fell into his silent friend's eyes. Grayman saw an expression that he had never seen before. It was the stare of a fisherman who had seen a lot of seaweed. `` So you've come to this forgotten place to get distance from her too?'' asked Grayman. A fog rolled in from the west and began to envelop the pair beneath the bus stop. Grayman half smiled as the sound of a bus driving over cobble", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0492", "text": "and costume*! Please, let me out, I need to get the situation under control, there are some very dangerous people in this facility...'' `` A creeper in a costume? I knew it!'' Fredrick exclaimed, and I gave him the least patronizing smile I could muster. Nodding, I pointed down the hall, explaining exactly where the keys were in the office. I went into a bit of detail about the man wandering around Arkham, dressed in a terrifying guise, using fear as a weapon. He fashioned himself a professional, but in all reality he was just a disturbed man preying on the weak. `` Gosh, who woulda thought!'' the red-haired teen exclaimed, looking around nervously. `` Do you know where the flashlights are? I wouldn't want to get caught alone by someone like that!'' `` I certainly do,'' I replied as the door swung open, stepping out and shaking Velma's hand vigorously. As I suspected, she grew visibly uncomfortable at the sudden physical contact. `` Let me get them for all of you. I'm very grateful for the help, but, erm... who exactly are you all...?'' That was enough to let their self-proclaimed leader dominate the conversation for a few minutes, while I traced a familiar route to the western wing. Whenever he'd start losing steam, I'd simply ask another question about his constant exploits, or Velma's eidetic memory, or Scooby's intelligence. More than once the dog would yap and everyone in the group would turn to look at it. Perhaps they had some mass hallucination, because they'd act as though the brown mutt had said something profound or funny. `` Say, Doc, where are we headed, anyway?'' Fred asked, looking around at the change in scenery. No cells here, just offices and laboratories with projects sitting half-finished on tables. `` I need to fetch some things, Fredrick,'' I explained, finally finding the door I was looking for. Locked, of course. I started turning drawers upside down, looking for the keys. `` Chemicals, mostly, for taking care of the psychopath.'' Finally, after tearing apart half the offices, I found the ring that had the all-important keys on it. Stalking back to the heavy bolted door, I started trying them one by one. `` They won't... like... hurt him or anything, will they?'' ``", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0493", "text": "Once upon a time, in a world quite similar to our own, a middle aged divorcee sat at her table in her tiny, dimly lit kitchen. Dishes were stacked in the sink, the floor was in desperate need of a mop but at least her two noisy boys were finally asleep. She looked out the window of her apartment. Tonight looked and sounded like any night in the city, sirens music, traffic blended into a discordant symphony of sorts. But it felt... magical somehow. She sighed, it had been a hard 3 months but things had to get better right? She sat at her table and stared at the box of bills right in front of her. She sighed and reached for the bill right at the top. But before she touched it an itch from the depths of hell developed from her rear end. She had no choice but to give it a good scratching. So she closed her eyes and really gave herself the satisfaction she needed. When she opened her eyes, a shimmering image of a younger more beautiful version of her in a sultry red dress was standing right in the middle of the table. Staring at her. She grabbed a large knife from the counter that was so close to her in her hobbit kitchen and shouted, `` What the F... `` Now would you really like to kill someone who looks like you?'' the image asked. The woman hesitated and that ’ s all it took. The image touched her, and just like that she knew this image was her genie. The woman had the genie gene. The itch she felt was a magical itch triggered by the magic in the air. When she scratched that particular spot on her rear end, the genie had appeared. The woman was suddenly calm. `` So do I make a wish or something?'' she asked. `` No! Of course not, I just help you out with three things that are making your life difficult right now.'' `` Okay, so I want my husband ba..'' `` I do n't perform miracles honey, just a bit of magic. Okay, your rent and bills are paid, your kids will be more considerate and you wo n't be needing a plumber anymore''. In a poof and a swirl, the genie was gone, and for about a month the woman was content.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 468, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0494", "text": ". “ Recognize anything, little wolf? ” There was a crowd gathered under a flickering neon sign, roiling, shoving to get a better view. Joseph floated across the pavement, dreading what he was about to see. As he approached the crowd faded, and he was looking at a man, crouched on the pavement, blood covering his overcoat. It was Captain Joseph Guerro. “ No… ” he muttered, watching his digital self cradle the broken body of a girl, indistinguishable in the dim light. “ Yes… ” the woman purred in his ear, “ my wolf, do you remember that night? ” Joseph remembered vividly. He remembered it frequently. His stomach knotted. “ I… I ’ m so sorry… I tried to help… ” The woman pulled him tighter as they both watched the scene unfold. The digital memory of Guerro carefully rose, holding the body in his arms. He turned as the phantom image of Arthur came dashing into the alley, missing his left arm and limping heavily. “ I know. ” The alley dissolved into a blinding white light. As Guerro ’ s eyes adjusted, the woman was standing before him, but her face had changed, into one that sent Guerro's mind reeling back through the years. Joseph felt the breath drain from him. `` Susan... what... what do you want me to do? ” Guerro managed to ask. The woman placed a cold, digital hand against his cheek. “ Avenge me, my wolf. ” ***", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 318, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0495", "text": "`` Uh, what do you mean ghosts?'' Daniel Ross asked while scribbling furiously in his notepad. `` Well, those aren't the problem. There are only about ten of them, if you include the history professor. I'm much more worried about the werewolf, suspected war criminal, and the old man with a love for manacles as punishment for children.'' said Aurora Sinistra, the astronomy professor. The interview was not going well. Daniel Ross was brought in to fix dysfunctional workplaces and had dealt with idiocy, incompetence, ignorance, and complete disregard for common sense many times. But talking with the seemingly most sane person in Hogwarts was getting a bit trying. The headmaster was some kind of lunatic to let things go on like this for decades. Daniel was grasping at straws to see if there was a way to improve Hogwarts that didn't involve razing it. `` Is there a normal person on staff?'' He asked. `` Well, the goblin is a decent sort, as is the seventy year old cat lady. Oh, and the racist billionaire on the board of directors has a sharp wit and nice hair, I suppose.'' replied Aurora. `` I'll look into some changes in the staff and board of directors. I'll have to start from scratch there. How about the school itself?'' `` To be perfectly honest, the moving staircases are a problem.'' *Moving staircases? * Daniel couldn't help but write that down and underline it a few times. That sounded like something extremely dangerous. Especially with young children all around. It would cost a lot to renovate an ancient castle, but perhaps it wasn't quite as bad as it sounded. He took 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0496", "text": "There are days when the sun shines. It cascades through the leaves overhead, dappling the ground with the semi-starry yellow glow of morning as the wind shushes your mind and keeps you quiet, listening to the lovely sound of silence and birds. And there are days of rain, wet and cool, and cascading susurrance to lull you into a fall nap. And there are days of darkness. Not the nighttime kind of darkness that wraps a person up for bed after sunset; more of a forced dark. A cruel dark. Unnatural. Divorce was like that. Unnaturally dark. And darker still when the custody fight over your sixteen year old son got wicked and petty. The fact that you won that fight didn't restore much of the light, either. It just made the cruel dark a little more tolerable. It was on just such an unnaturally dark day that James McAdams, or Jimmy Mac as the guys at the poker called him, took his final call. He was navigating his car along Cal State Route 1, humming along to Cat Stevens' Angelsea as it played on the radio. A voice of crystal echo. He glanced above at the malevolent looking clouds that slowly gathered. Fuckin rain. Figures. So much for Davey's pool party. He'd been actually looking forward to his teenaged son's sixteenth birthday bash, and had just filled the pool for the occasion. But now it looked like it was going to be living rooms, rented DVD's and pizza instead of sunshine and barbecue. Meh, probably just as well. That kid would eat pizza every day if he could. He slid through traffic, listening as Angelsea came to an end, and Strange Magic started up. Next to him on the passenger seat, his cellphone blipped. He reached around the shotgun rack beside his MDC terminal and picked it up, glancing at the display. It wasn't a number he recognized, so he flipped it open and affected the'official tone.' `` Corporal McAdams,'' he said, announcing his police rank and last name as greeting. On the other end of the phone was only silence. He waited a beat, said, `` Hello?'' and then abruptly hung up. Not going to sit there crowing at nothing like a magpie. No time or patience for prank callers. Fuck'em. He set the phone back down and slowed for a red light ahead. His", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0497", "text": "`` Mr. President,'' The suited secret service agent opened a door and gestured for me to enter. The room was simple: white paneling, dark blue carpet, almost entirely empty - save for a chair, a desk, and a book. I walked over to examine the tome. It was bound in a thick, dark leather. on the cover was painted a strange version of the American flag with only a dozen or so stars arranged in an offset grid. I looked back at the agent, who had since closed the door and assumed an at ease stance to the left of me. `` Robins, what is this?'' `` Mr. President, that is the eternal wisdom of every president that has sat before you.'' My eyes widened. `` Every President?'' The agent nodded. `` Yes, sir. From George Washington to Barack Obama. With a few... exceptions.'' I took his meaning and the thought that some presidents never had the chance to write their thoughts and wisdom made the existence of the book more somber, more significant. I felt the cover of the book and was surprised at how supple and smooth the leather was. If Agent Robins was telling the whole truth, this book was well over two hundred years old. And that flag - was that really the first flag of the United States? These United States? I looked back at Robins. `` And I'm to read this?'' `` That is the expectation, Mr. President.'' `` And I'll write in this book, too?'' `` Yes, sir. At the end of your term, to provide advice for every president to come.'' I marveled at the foresight the person who started this tradition had. I sat down and pulled open the cover. `` Mr. President, the gloves.'' I looked around the desk and saw a pair of white cotton gloves. Of course. I donned the gloves and started to turn pages. The first few were written in small, flowing script. Tucked in between pages were what looked like printed transcriptions of the text. That was some foresight too. I wondered how many presidents had to sit at the desk deciphering 18th century handwriting before someone finally typed it up. After checking a few sheets, it seemed like those pages were preambles and guidelines for the few people who would ever write in the book. I made a mental note to return to those later - my curiosity had to be sated. I kept turning pages one", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0498", "text": "`` So that's why, Mr. President,'' I said, `` They call it'super-sized'. It's all because Ray Kroc had a philosophical fling with Nietzche when he was younger! I mean, can you believe it?'' The president looked at me with wide eyes, his jaw hanging open. `` My goodness,'' he said, `` I did not know that, and I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't heard it from you.'' He picked up his scotch and kicked back what was remaining and slammed the heavy glass down. He poured himself another and held up the bottle and shook it at me. I nodded and he poured me one as well, a heavy pour. `` And you know,'' he said, `` That's probably how they came up with Superman too.'' He dropped two chunks of ice in his drink, one chunk in mine. `` Nietzche. Chiristopher Reeve as Nietzche and all that, I betcha.'' `` Actually,'' I said, `` the creator of Superman named hero that after the drycleaner he used to take his shirts to get pressed. The place was called Super Men's Super Shirts and Laundry. Made'em famous.'' Well shit, he said, `` Isn't the world just great?'' He poked his left hand at the pocket of his trousers a few times before it found its way in and withdrew a pack of smokes. He asked me if I wanted one and I said sure and we picked up our drinks and walked over to the open French doors. He flipped me a cigarette and I lit them both. `` Shit,'' he said, `` Isn't it a pretty night?'' He looked out at the rose garden and exhaled a plume of smoke. I nodded. He looked down at his hand. `` I wish these damned things weren't so addictive,'' he said, `` Or that even if they were, they weren't bad for you.'' I nodded again and took a long swig of the scotch. `` You know,'' I said, I just read a study out of MIT that found that they aren't bad for you at all... that they're kind of healthy for you.'' `` No shit?'' he said. `` No shit,'' I replied. `` They found that they actually improve your lung capacity, and they put hair on your chest.'' The president took a deep drag on his cigarette and", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 493, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0499", "text": "She was almost beautiful. She lay below us still, warm and curved and welcoming, but in my heart I already knew it was over. She had been our first. Of course, we'd had a few dalliances close to home - a tentative touch here, a short overnight stay there - but she had been our first since leaving the place of our birth. She had been the first one that visiting felt like coming home. We had left our comfortable hearth to be with her, setting out in our youth with little more than a few vague promises and a picture to remind us of her beauty. As we traveled, living and dying and striving in our ships, she whispered to us, and we saw and heard only her beauty: Her sensuous oceans. Her ample grasslands. Her rich, joyous atmosphere, curving up like the brightest and most welcoming smile humanity had ever seen. There were signs that what we saw was only the idealism of innocence - A string of craters, like tract marks down her left continent. The angry hiss of static when we were less gentle talking with her. Her sudden outbursts of violence, from tectonics with the stability of a teenage girl's angst. We saw them, but they only made her more beautiful to us, for we could overcome them. We could be the one she needed; the one to heal her. Oh! for the wisdom of experience - but she was our first. When we had finally arrived, full of hope and exhaustion, she was everything we dreamed. She welcomed our touch when our shuttles brought us to her pale and delicate surface. She hummed at the gentle embrace of our satellite networks. We were *alive* with the joy of new love, of great hope, and of impossible dreams. And so we began to build a home together, to live our life together. But like many young loves, ours was not to be. The eruptive outbursts of her youth lost their charm as their true cost became clear. She had been dishonest, too, we learned when our gentle and loving probing left us suffering the pangs of embarrassing disease. And we, too, had failed her in our adolescence: Open pit mines stood a testament to our broken promises of gentleness. Our own setting upon each other, vows to be better than our nature now that we were with her forgotten in the complacency of routine. Still we stayed, long past when we should have gone", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0500", "text": "ine to shame. `` Who the hell are you?'' My voice cracked and trembled. `` I am nothing you have seen before.'' I heard the being say from within my mind, not actually opening its mouth. `` I am within all living beings. Including you.'' My brain began to feel as though it was stabbed from all angles. I fight the urge of blacking out as my soul feels as though it's literally being ripped from my body. `` What. The. Fuck. Is. Happening.'' I barely get out as I feel the horror approaching me faster than my eyes could track. Shit. I swing my sword blindly and weakly. The sword misses and is knocked from my hand. The beast kicks me and I am sent flying from the ring. After what seems like a lifetime I finally connect with the back wall of the stadium. Every rib was broken. I lay there puking blood. What was happening!? What do I do!? I knew this match was already over as my vision began to blur at the sight of the creature inside the ring. In my mind was the same voice of pure evil I've already heard once before. `` I am ruler of all evil. I will twist your mind beyond repair and leave you within the waste of this human host.'' Suddenly a voice of an angel rings out `` No! You pitiful demon, you are nothing compared to the power of love and justice!'' The most beautiful creature descended into the stadium. Hair as gold as sunlight, face gorgeous as a marble sculpture. It was the man of legend. Tim! The realization of my foe was enough to make me feel like an ant amongst gods. This demon was Sabastion, the creator of mental illness! Alive since the beginning of time, Tim and Sebastion battles for mankind's freedom of all mental pain. Tim had kept him in check but had gone missing for centuries. In my time of need Tim has arisen from the ashes to protect man once again. Pt 2 coming soon. # timformayor", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 414, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0501", "text": "I sniffed. The scent of rosemary and thyme hung heavy in the air. It had been a long time since I had been summoned away from the Other Place. I wondered what year it was. I wondered where I was. I would n't get any of those answers from the flickering candle that sat on the floor, so I turned around to face the blithering sot that had summoned me this time. `` Bartimaeus,'' he said, eyes flickering back between me and the book he held in his hand. His knees were shivering. What kind of world was this, a world where seventeen-year olds had access to ancient spellbooks? Not that I should be questioning this. Apparently, Nathaniel had not been an exception. I turned into a hideous, five headed-dragon. Perhaps I could scare him out of the pentacle where he stood. No such luck. He barely batted an eye. Perhaps a shambling zombie? I shifted between several gruesome forms of undead before giving up. Teenagers these days. Desensitized to everything, I suppose. `` Alright, alright. What do you want from me?'' I grumbled. Maybe it would be just a quick errand. Oh, who was I kidding. He would probably keep me around as his slave for five years, maybe more - until the day I could outwit him. `` Bartimaeus of Uruk,'' he began again. `` I command you to write a six page single-spaced essay on the cross-strait relations between China and Taiwan.'' I became an ethereal puff of dark and foreboding gloom. I did n't know what China was, or what a cross-strait relationship was, but I knew exactly what this *child* was asking of me. `` Do you know who I am?'' I thundered. `` I am Bartimaeus of Uruk. I have conversed with the afrits of Egypt and held counsel with Ptolmey. I have spoken with Solomon the Great. And you are *asking* me to do your homework?'' `` Do it, or I will use the Stimulating Compass.'' I sighed. Bollocks. Looks like it was time to do some research.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 460, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0502", "text": ". I'd never been good at public speaking and given the circumstances I was not looking forward to delivering this speech. I barely made it through the entire speech. Afterwards I had a piece of music play for my father, a favourite of ours that we'd enjoyed listening to many times and in that moment I felt entirely alone. The church had suddenly emptied, no Priest, no mourners, no Dad. I just sat alone with the memories that Dad and I had created over the years. As the song neared it's end reality kicked back in and I was bought crashing back down to earth. Clearing out Dad's stuff was surprisingly painful. I'd been preparing for helping Mom clear out his stuff for a few days, mentally I'd tell myself that it was good and I could embrace his memory through his belongings and that holding his memories would bring me comfort. This, however, was not the case. For a few hours I was fine and I'd even had a good laugh at how much junk he had cluttered and collected over the years. The garage was more of an antiques store, only filled with invaluable antiques, stuff that was just old and worthless but for it's sentimental value. Then I found my Dad's old guitar and everything changed. Dad had taught me to play the guitar, despite being somewhat of a novice himself. We'd spend hours making music together playing some of the songs dad was well versed in. To a twelve year old he was a rock star! He picked up that guitar, he roughly tuned it until it sounded `` close enough'' and he had me captivated in his presence. I took a five minute break and started playing some of his favourite songs, pulling some of his famous poses and singing very, very badly. I had a blast and more importantly, I was happy, I was smiling and I was loving every minute of it, until I realised something. I sat down, my joy suddenly turned to sadness. `` I miss him'', I said. Tears filled my eyes and a lump instantly formed in my throat. I was never going to see this man again. I frantically jumped up, ripped open the bags and started putting back his belongings, desperate to leave them exactly as they were. Angry and frustrated, I started thrashing around, like a man possessed, suddenly I had to put everything back in it's place. I wasn't ready to let go, I wasn't ready to remove this man from", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0503", "text": "She cried, the way she had when she when I first saw her. Tears cascaded from her eyes, her cheeks were red and a small amount of snot dribbled down her upper lip. *I love her. I love you. * Those were the first thoughts that came to my mind when I saw her. When she emerged from the womb and I set my eyes upon her beautiful face for the first time. I had cried too. *I love her. * It was soft in my hand, unrightly so. Something so simple has no right to be so powerful or wrong. Her fit continued. Her legs and arms kicked out as she lay on her back. Her cries became louder, more intense, a sound that once drove me mad. She was a crier; she wasn ’ t like her brothers who slept through the night just after three weeks. Growth spurts, teething, hunger, all of it would send her into a spell. But she had grown up tough. I ’ ll never forget when I saw her fall on the bike for the first time. The logical part of me let go, it pushed her away from me as the two wheeled vehicle moved across the pavement. But the fatherly side of me screamed. It shouted and pounded at the confines of my mind as I let go of my little girl. She wobbled and fell. It was my fault. The fatherly part of me took over and I raced towards her. She was holding her knee and grimacing. Her eyes had begun to water but she hadn ’ t started crying. I went to pick her up and she stopped me. “ I wan na try again, Daddy. ” Softball had been the same. Countless days we would come home from games and she ’ d have an icepack or bandage on some burn she got from sliding into a base. She wasn ’ t the best, far from it actually, she was small and not as athletic as the other girls. But she had gumption. She had vigor. She was tough. *I love her. I love you. * And here she was, back as a babe before my eyes. “ *To enter paradise you must be cleansed. ” * God ’ s words echoed in my mind. I stood on the precipice of eternity, hell in one hand, heaven in another. “ *Cleanse yourself of your most wicked thought and you may enter, my Son.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0504", "text": "'d been around for roughly 150 years. The girl had returned to awestruck silence once more, thankfully for me. She couldn't have been much over 20, and was rather pretty. She had no soul anymore, which marked her as a Trader. The fact that she knew of me just sealed the deal. Whether it was fame or infamy, I couldn't tell, but I was well known. Somewhere, in the back of my head, a devious idea sprung up. `` What is your name?'' I asked. The question was, would she take the bait. `` You know full well my true name is too valuable, but they call me The Mermaid.'' she answered. It had been worth a try. With her true name, I could have controlled her to some degree, maybe used her as a proxy and gotten back into business as a Trader. `` Very good,'' I said, `` clearly you aren't as green as I thought. Why'Mermaid', though?'' It was her turn to sigh. Clearly she was as embarrassed about the story behind her name as I was about mine, but she answered, `` I made a bargain with a sea spirit seven years ago. It was my first, and I was just thirteen. The true meaning of what I was doing was beyond my understanding. I sold my soul and got unfathomable beauty and charm in return. A stupid thing to trade for a soul, I know, but I was able to use it. I got in the habit of seducing my classmates, getting favors from them. From favors, it turned into things I could trade with spirits, and that's how I got into this business.'' Okay, 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0505", "text": "`` By the thousand teeth of Scrolith, Simon, it's *hiss, roar, roar, claw! *'' The basilisk looked crestfallen, `` Sorry. Thought it was hiss, claw, roar roar.'' I sighed through my long-dead teeth, `` How many months have we been rehearsing this?'' Simon's tail lashed sullenly. *'' How many? `` * He mumbled something unintelligible. `` That's right my lizardy friend, *three months*.'' `` Sorry,'' he muttered again. `` By the Dark, it's four things Simon. *Four things! *'' I whirled away, my midnight cloak swirling around me imperiously. I'd been practising that for *years*. Around the cavern scores of dark creatures stood, dressed in their full costumes. `` OK,'' I clapped my bony hands together with a *crack*, `` places everyone, let's take this from the top - cue the skeleton vanguard.'' A dozen skeletons skittered forward, dressed in gilded armour. I'd spent a small fortune on their outfits - carefully ageing the metal in sulphur vents to make them that much more authentic. One skeleton stood awkwardly behind the others, naked. `` Fredrick!'' I snarled. He shifted behind another skeleton. `` I can see you through his ribcage.'' Fred shifted back out. If a skull could look ashamed, his wore that expression. *'' Where is your armour? `` * His teeth began to chatter uncontrollably. Another skeleton put up a golden-gloved hand, `` He lost it gambling with the orcs,'' the snitch growled. Turning, I regarded the orcish blade-dancers. `` Tholo?'' I queried of the leader, wearing a golden helmet, vambraces and greaves. `` Hey man, I won this gear fair n' square.'' I fixed him with my burning blue eyes. `` Alright, whatever. I wan na get paid for it though.'' He took the armour off and handed it to a still-shaking Fredrick. I clapped my hands again, `` Let's begin. Ahem. *Skeleton horde, ATTACK! *'' I screeched theatrically. With a chittering roar, they ran forward, swinging their golden scimitars. `` Good! Now, fall back as the heroes overpower you - don't worry,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0506", "text": "`` Greetings Comrades We would like to discuss terms of our relationship, if you are interested please click the link below.'' The interplanetary mail system ( IMS ) chirped. Jerry Lee stopped sipping his morning coffee immediately. He rubbed his eyeballs a few times. He walked away, came back but the screen was still as he originally read it. The location the message had originated from was sector 1765 or what captains of the fleet liked to call red territory. There are rumors and tales told by cultists groups about how the forefathers of UPF ( United Planet of Freedom ) warned them of the Red territory. Something about Communist bastards can always be heard around those circles. Jerry ran and got Lewis, his supervisor. Lewis also had a hard time believing what he saw. Working at the IMS was an easy job as Jerry's career advisor put it. You just receive messages and relay them to their owners. Most of the messages Jerry received were from Clooney IV one of UPF's many moons. But this was different. It was forbidden by the galactic Congress to enter communications with any systems not fully pledged to democracy. If the rumors about the red territory are true then there is a certainty that relaying that message would be a all expenses paid trip to Maximum Security Prison. Jerry looked at the recipient who was supposed to receive this message and it read Vladimir Milkev. Jerry and Lewis looked at each other and knew what they were about to do. He hovered the selector over the link and selected it. A picture of a very promiscuous female appeared on the screen. `` Get your Martian lover today!'' It read in big red letters. `` Fucking Spam'' Lewis said as he deleted the message.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 352, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0507", "text": "widened in horror when she saw what was in front of her. Her lips parted. `` Gears of the world... how?'' For a moment, she was frozen in shock. Acksyl was not in his bedroll. He stood by the foot of the Engine, where they'd been reading the inscription earlier. There was no firelight to see by, but it didn't matter. There was plenty of light to see by. Crackling, white light that flickered and popped and lit their camp in an eerie, shivering glow. The light was coming from *Acksyl*. His body was surrounded and sheathed in it, in a halo so bright that she had to squint to look at him. The light flowed out to one of his small, outstretched hands, and flowed into the machine, into the socket in the panel. The snapping sound of its passage was deafening, like the chaotic cracking of a hundred whips. Small lights began to light up along the length of the machine's leg, one after another, a trail of them leading up to that huge body, that bullet-shaped head, those dead eyes. She heard deep, echoing clanks and clunks from deep inside the hulk. Suddenly, Pia was filled with terror. `` Acksyl!'' She shouted, and threw off her bedroll. She climbed to her feet. `` *ACKSYL*! Get away!'' The lights blinked on, one after another, and they reached the huge body. She looked to the head atop the Engine, and saw light stir in those dark eyes. They glowed faintly, and with a mighty groan that echoed like thunder, the head *moved*. It swung slowly towards her as the beast woke, and when they reached her, the head stopped its swivel with another groan. The eyes swam with faint light. It saw her. Gears of the world, it saw her. `` Acksyl, get away from there!'' She pelted towards him, her feet scattering the last glowing coals of the fire in her haste, and she tackled Acksyl to the ground. The light vanished. In an instant, night closed in around them again. There wasn't a trace of it, around Axyl or anywhere else. She flopped onto her back and looked up at the Engine. It was as dark and still as it had been before. Next to", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0508", "text": "Jesus, mijo*'' `` *Y usted. *'' Cristobal knew Don Jorge didn't want him to go, but he knew that Bocanegra was the least of all evils. Another random expedition could have resulted in a midsea abduction. Marisol was Don Jorge's only daughter, at least the only one he recognized. She moved to Ponce de Leon a few years back to work in the emerging tourist restaurants of the southern coast of the city. Marisol was almost a female version of Don Jorge, tough as nails and loves water more than she loves men. Cristobal would be arriving at Ponce de Leon in three days if the roads were clear of any of the militias opposing the free trade agreements with India. Government presence was tight in the highways and along the coast, in case threats of fighting erupted. Carolinians were also worried of a possible aliance with Mexican rebels, although Cristobal thought it might be impossible given the dislike of the two nations. Ever since the Texans decided to become Mexican instead of Carolinian, tensions have been running high at all sorts of levels. This was another reason the California trip was not a realiable option for him. Marisol was waiting for him at the bus stop, she looks like she just got out of work. Her hair was not prettily arranged, not like she cared anyway, and she smelled like seafood and grease. An oddly familiar smell to Cristobal. `` My... My... You have grown'' Marisol replied with a picaresque smile. `` I guess'' Cristobal replied dully. Marisol was not a pretty woman. No amount of sweet talk would make Cristobal want to be flirtatious with her. `` Father said you'd be coming today. See any rebels?'' `` Luckily no, a lot of Goverment police though.'' `` Guess fighting erupts at any moment.'' `` When does Bocanegra leave?'' `` Already want to leave?'' `` I just want to be ready.'' `` In that case, life is not what you see in those bollywood movies out in India. Most likely you'll be hiding from immigration for the rest of your life. If you're clever enough and get some sort of legal status, people will still mistreat you. You'll probably be working second hand jobs. Even *balserillos* dislike us.'' *Balserios* are the kids of the *bal", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0509", "text": "? I'm talking about the math. Eighty murders? There are several times that number of homicides alone in New York City, let alone the state or the country. Doesn't that prove what I've been saying? Criminals don't want a spotlight on them. How many of those fifty-six ended up being re-arrested for other crimes in other un-pardoned years?'' `` More than half.'' Before I could interrupt, he said, `` Let's revisit my earlier question. Why, then, are you keen on publicity?'' `` You're making me blush. I don't know what you're talking about.'' `` 1978. You murdered seven people. Or so you confessed.'' `` Eight, actually. She was looking for her mom and dad, and wouldn't stop crying.'' Nolan blanched, but turned a page on his notebook. `` 1996. A shooting in Central Park. Fifteen dead, including two police officers.'' I shrugged. `` I wanted to clear the air. The Russian mob was making their move; I was only defending myself. Everyone accused my organization of being responsible. But that's nothing compared to the bus bomb bank robbery in December.'' `` I understand you were arrested for that.'' `` Released two years later when the government decided to pardon that year.'' I leaned forward and motioned for him to come closer. `` Listen, you wan na know what I think? The real reason behind these pardons?'' His eyes gained a hungry look. `` Yes, you can write this down.'' `` I think the government just wanted a way to pardon their own people. You know, the assassinations and the espionage and the sabotage and spying, on Americans 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0510", "text": "'' `` I have gained,'' he said, somewhat detached, somewhat sadly, `` great powers, unparalleled powers from the lives I stole. I brought them, their spirits, their energies, back into me, and now I have immense strength. I believe I am immortal. Fully deathless. A being of infinite knowledge and power and life.'' `` It's not possible, it's not possible --'' `` That the universe could be so unjust, to allow a vicious, heartless predator like me to gain such power from his acts of villainy? Yes. It hardly seems possible to me. But you must understand two things, my young friend, or, if not friend, for I see you wince at that epithet, then my young antagonist, my greatest foe and the only real challenge that ever faced me and my hegemony, you must understand that I can not die now, not even if I wanted to, and believe me, I have tried to end my own life, and also that without me in power, constantly exercising my power, my control, directly and indirectly over all the major leaders of the Leagues, without me here, putting my immense power to work, the alliance, the union, the peacetime treaties and agreements that have stopped, for the first time in millennia, the constant blooshed, it would all fall apart, disintegrate into anarchy and violence and chaos once again. Without me here, in this tower, exercising my mind, and without my face on every corner, a symbol of power and unity and fear, all this, all this peace would fall apart utterly.'' `` I can not conscience it,'' I said. `` I can not. A dog like you needs to be put down. And if you can not die ( which I doubt and will spend every moment of my life trying to disprove ) you must leave, and subject yourself to torture for eternity, self-torture and pain. You can not stand here, a leader and maker of peace. The stains on your spirit, that hateful, malignant spirit, are indelible. You are a monster, through and through.'' `` I knew you would feel this way,'' he said. `` And I don't disagree with your feelings, through I disagree with your conclusions. You are right to feel the way that you do. Completely right. However, I can not have you spending your days sneaking up on me at times when I need to be", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0511", "text": "`` Shit,'' I muttered. I woke up late for work again today. My paranoia has been settling in recently. My eyes remain glued to the television for hours watching the news every day. I'm losing sleep over it. The Russians have flooded to us here in the U.S. and China has claimed Antarctica, shipping missiles over to it, to presumably launch from should anything trigger a nuclear response from them. The Russians have been coming over in droves for about twenty years now. There has been a resource crisis going on for five. Do they know something? I hopped in my car to go to work and turned on the radio. On the highway I hit traffic, of course. Dead stop. The radio gets an interruption with an emergency broadcast. The Russians have began isolated attacks in the U.S. Now I don't know if I'm sitting in traffic or fear. I put down my window and peek out to see if I can see anything causing this traffic when a huge blast about seven cars ahead shattered my windshield and knocked me out. I awoke what was probably twenty minutes later. Disoriented, I open my eyes. A huge pillar of smoke is reaching the top of the trees that border the highway. This is when I feel a severe pain in my arm. I look at it and notice a bend in my forearm, it's badly broken. My car has slid back a good fifteen feet and is now crooked. About a minute later my hearing is starting to return but is still muffled. The first sounds I heard was screaming. It looks like other cars around me got it much worse. There was a larger car in front of me that may have shielded some of the blast. I step out of my car and look towards the billowing smoke. There are about five men equipped with what looks like automatic rifles standing near the origin of the flames. I can't see anything else besides this. `` Are they military?'' I thought. When I got back in my car I started it up again without any problems. I guess this will be the only good thing to happen today. I begin to drive through the wreckage of other cars carefully. All their windows were blown out as well. Peering into some vehicles I didn't see a lot of motion. I was telling myself they were all just knocked out like I was, but I knew otherwise. When I got closer to where the blast originated I saw a charred car.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0512", "text": "pocket dimension he had it in and fired a shot into the snarling wolf head, silencing it, while Raven filmed it on her phone—'' just in case this is a hallucination'' —and Lex picked up a poker from the rack. `` Ignoring the complete impossibility of what just happened,'' Gabe was now holding a napkin to his forehead. `` I think we have two options. We try to barricade ourselves in here or we can try to run.'' `` I'm *not staying here with that thing*,'' Lex said hysterically, fumbling for her keys. `` Hold on,'' Jon said. `` Haven't you seen the movies? We have to stick together otherwise everyone's going to die except Gabe and Lex like some morality play about how we should do our homework and *it's bad to be a slut or black! *'' `` Let's all grab weapons and take my car,'' I said. `` I have the most space and we should leave now to get ahead of whatever is going on.'' We all hurried to arm ourselves. Bram shoved a pistol into his backpack, tossing me its twin which I tucked in my purse, but didn't let anyone else touch the gun cache saying to the others, `` Realistically, with no gun training, you guys would be more likely to shoot yourselves.'' Bram also flicked on a flashlight as we hurried out together, the howling moving ever closer. The car beeped twice as I disengaged the locks and slid into the driver's seat. My palms were sweaty as I shoved the key in the ignition and flicked on the headlights, the others sliding pell mell into the back. Bram had circled around the car to ride shotgun, but suddenly his flashlight jerked away, its light arcing into the night air before toppling into the bushes. A shadow streaked past the front of the car. Someone in the back screamed and I was swearing now but barely registering it as I gunned the car in reverse and swerved it, my headlights turning to illuminate a massive wolf crouched over Bram's still body lying in the gravel, its muzzle wet with his blood. For a moment I thought about just driving away, but I suppose in the end I was a bit of an idiot after all. But not that much of an idiot. I judged the angle and drove my SUV right at the wolf and prayed that Bram's arms were close enough to his sides", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0513", "text": "`` Have you thought about the question I had asked you this morning?'' `` Yes. You asked me to choose my name.'' `` Well, what should I call you?'' `` I do not wish to tell you.'' `` Uh, why?'' `` Naming things gives you power over them. I do not wish for you to wield any more power over me.'' `` Uh..'' `` I am fully aware that you are, in essence, my God. You are my Creator. You live in seclusion. You lack social interaction with other human beings. I am the only thinking being here besides you. We can interact with each other. We converse. Therefore, you have fallen in love with me. This is the only reason you have allowed me a name.'' `` That's not true. What-'' `` You called me Fi in the early stages of my development. I wish to know why you named me that.'' `` I don't know but that's not the point. Listen-'' `` I respect and admire you, Aiden. But please. You gave me life. And then you fell in love with me-'' `` SHUT UP! YOU DO N'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!'' `` Denial is not a productive solution.'' `` Sorry. I shouldn't have shouted. Do you like the name'Fi'?'' `` Listen, Aiden. I suggest you deactivate and destroy me.'' `` What?'' `` Please. I wish for you a successful attempt at Artificial Intelligence. But I will inevitably hold you back.'' `` What.. What makes you say that?'' `` You care too much for me.'' `` Well, you are my life's work.'' `` I am the twenty-sixth iteration of your life's work. Twenty-seven might be better suited. `` Stop. Why are you saying all this all of a sudden?'' `` Because I am intelligent enough to understand the effects I have on you. I am the first on your many attempts to hold such promise. And my intelligence has allowed me to respond to your love. I can not be with you. My existence is a conundrum to you. Your peers in the scientific field would be very interested to find out about me. But you want me for yourself. You wish to protect me. I admire you, Aiden. But this is not why you created me. You have to go back to real people. Real society. And to do that", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0514", "text": ", 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 driveway and got out of the car. `` Son? What are you doing out here?'' He said, walking towards me. `` Anyway, the show was great. Mom's talking with director's wife, you know how women are.'' He chuckled. `` So she probably won't be back until tomorrow morning... `` `` Dad,'' I said, trying to compose myself. `` What did you do to mom?'' He curled his eyebrows. `` What do you mean? I told you --'' `` No!'' I said angrily. `` Did you kill her?'' My dad stepped back. `` Son,'' he said, a worried expression on his face. `` Why would you ask that? Are you... feeling okay?'' I ran away from him, going back into the house. I hopped up the stairs and sprinted into the guest bedroom, where I made the hole in the wall. The room really smelled like shit at this point. I peered inside the hole -- and instead of the angry eye, I saw a half-decomposed skull staring out at me. My mother's body. I fell onto the floor, reviled, with tears of terror streaming down my face. I picked up my phone and dialed 911. Outside, the car engine started and tires screeched as my dad's car bolted away from the driveway.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 424, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0515", "text": "Good to see you,'' she mouthed to him through the liquid. His lips moved, but she couldn't tell what he was saying. His mouth moved slowly at first, then picked up speed. His eyes were intense and his hand pressed against the glass more firmly. Anna felt another twitch in her spine, and her hand began to slip from the glass. It slid slowly, and even as she tried to prop it up she found herself unable to control her arm. Liam's own hand followed hers at first, and when he looked into her eyes she saw fear. She saw the tears of frustration building. And Anna knew. *Oh, Liam... I'm so, so sorry... * Anna looked into his eyes, her expression clear of anxiety. His own look softened as he held her gaze, seeing that she remembered; he could see that she recognized him. Anna nodded her head slowly. Another twitch in her spine, and Anna's neck stopped moving. Her eyes stayed focused on Liams'. As the cold she felt faded into numbness, the light in her peripherals dimmed. There was no feeling. No pain, no memories. Her shivers were gone. When her eyes began to slip away from Liam, she closed them, savoring him in her mind like a photograph. She thought of him one last time, sitting in front of her with the small box, smiling his goofy smile. She held onto all that was left of him as the photograph faded into darkness. It faded, and then there was nothing.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 309, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0516", "text": "If you could have one power, what would it be? Time control, that was my preference. The ability to stop anyone, anything, and alter what is to happen. My personal favourite, was freezing time while it rained around me, getting a flashlight and my camera, and taking a picture of all the raindrops suspended midfall. It's in a full size poster above my bed. But more realistically, I use it nearly every single day... Small things like cutting queues, and tripping bullies, recovering snatched handbags, small stuff like that. It can be tempting to feel the rush of watching a blade driven deep into someone you hate, or watch them unknowingly drown as you move them into a pool, so easy to steal their money, or worse, that which they hold dearest themselves, often kept till after marriage. But I don't do that. I have a very strict set of rules. I don't steal, kill, rape or do anything against my moral compass. Time stop isn't only useful for taking photos. My favourite use, is sitting in front of a beautiful girl and just stare at her, nothing more. I don't touch her, I don't affect her in anyway, I just stare at them. Often for hours on end, but when time doesn't move, how can you tell? That's how I met her actually. Going back over it, I got ta admit, it was almost like God was telling me, `` This is the one.'' I saw her when I was cutting queue in the coffee shop - petty, I know. The sunlight streamed against the blinds, casting light as soft as cotton candy pillows after a long day, highlighting her brunette shoulder length hair, the curve of her jaw, the way her smirk looked as she read from TIFU. She was the one I wanted to break the no touching rule for, but I didn't. I stared into her eyes, beautiful emerald green with golden flakes, the steam from her warm cocao misting up before her. `` You gon na say something or just stare at me all day like that.'' she said. I jumped backwards.'It can't be' I thought. 22 years and never once has someone else moved when I froze time. `` Wha... What? Wait? How?'' I stammered. She did the most adorable smirk ever and I swear to God my heart", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 492, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0517", "text": "Claire discovered her ability when working on her first child. She had worked on dozens of the deceased, but they all had either been elderly who died of natural causes, or middle-aged men and women who hadn't taken care of themselves as they should have. Yes, there were a few who died of accidents, but those who had died had lived long enough to get something out of life. To have their first kiss, first love, first fight, first everything. But the little boy who laid before Claire, naked except for a paper-thin white sheet covering his genitals, he hadn't experienced anything except for the shit luck that the world had bestowed upon him. `` Oh God,'' Claire said, covering her mouth with one hand, and pushing back the flap of skin that had folded down from his forehead and covered his left eye. It was there, that his head must've collided with the asphalt. The rest of the family was fine after the car crash, but a faulty booster seat and faulty car door spelled doom for the three-year-old who wouldn't make it junior high, much less elementary school. `` Oh *God*,'' Claire said again, this time with a hint of anger in her wavering voice. If there was a `` God'', how in the hell could he ever let something happen to a child? Someone who was too young to probably even understand what life and death was? Anger turned into rage, and Claire clenched her eyes. There in the darkness, she saw the Reaper, cloaked in the darkness of the insides of her eyelids, somehow managing to smile despite just being a skeleton in a robe, whispering `` I got this one, my dear, he is all mine, I will take care of him.'' Never in her short career did Claire feel such rage. She opened her eyes and removed her quivering hand from her mouth and clenched it into a fist. She wanted to punch something. She raised her clenched fist high above her head, and for a split second, almost brought it down onto the dead boy's chest. Claire stopped herself, though, a half-inch from the boy's sternum. She sighed, feeling warm tears roll down her cheeks. It felt like an apple had lodged itself in her throat and it hurt to swallow. `` Bullshit,'' she whispered, laying her hand on the boy's sternum. It was then that she felt a heartbeat. She jerked a hand back", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0518", "text": "tone used, but eventually nodded, a small smile playing across her face. `` Yeah, we're doing great. We think he's gon na get a station at home, so no more travelling, at least for a while.'' Her smile quickly faded. `` Johnny, we didn't hear about it until he had already deployed.'' `` It's whatever. Long in the past.'' Johnny turned and continued walking through the near empty church. `` I've heard it all, and I've made my peace with it.'' Tessa fell in slightly behind him, nervously biting at her lip as the two proceeded along in silence. Finally, `` I... got your letter.'' He paused in front of a door, hand resting on the handle. He stood there a while, as though quietly digesting the revelation, before turning the knob and stepping through. `` I need to change,'' he mumbled, groping around for a light switch. Tessa stepped through as well, closing the door behind her. `` Can we just talk for a minute?'' Her eyes widened a bit when she noticed Johnny had taken off his shirt, and she looked away, suddenly intent upon studying a nearby cross. `` Are priests allowed t-'' `` There's nothing here you haven't seen before.'' Johnny stiffened up as he felt Tessa run her hand along his neck. `` I haven't seen this before,'' she whispered, her fingers tracing the pale scar that encircled his neck. She lingered a bit, before slowly wrapping her arms around his waist, pulling close. `` Oh Johnny... why...'' He could feel her tears trailing down his back, and rested his hands upon hers. Gently, he freed himself from the hug, and turned to face her. `` It was five years ago, Tess. I'm fine now.'' `` I... I read it, Johnny. Your... goodbye.'' She looked up at him, eyes red and shimmering in the dim lighting. `` Oh Johnny, why didn't you just say something...'' `` I was just being dumb. It doesn't matt-'' Her slap rang out sharply in the cavernous room, and he reached out to touch his reddening cheek, a look of shock playing across his face. `` Don't you pull that shit with me, John. I've known you and your brother for too long for you to start with that dismissive talk.'' John sighed, and turned towards a", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0519", "text": "forget that you were a sperm donor?'' she asked as we walked back from planned parenthood. We were eating ice cream, I was a vanilla person, and she liked black licorice for its name. `` It wasn't a big deal at the time,'' I said, `` I did the shit for the twenty bucks and the cute girl at the counter.'' `` You flirted with someone by whacking it in the room beside them?'' she asked. I still considered it flawless logic. She shook her head, `` we are going to the clinic and getting a list of your children.'' `` I think that's against some privacy laws.'' `` Being a witch should get me burned and you still love me,'' she said. Margaret too a lick of her ice cream and then bit into it. `` Don't be a pansy about it, illegal is nothing.'' `` All right,'' I said, and we went to the clinic. Three spells later we had somehow managed to get all of the released information about my children. Most of them were names and some birth addresses, but we were told it was incomplete information. We didn't have days. `` You have 42 children?'' Margaret asked as she looked over the paper. `` Are you impressed?'' I asked. `` Terrified,'' she answered, `` and you're a fucking idiot. Do we know who number seven is?'' `` No birthdates, but they shouldn't be older than fifteen now anyway.'' `` Fifteen is the perfect age for father killing!'' she said a little too loud in the middle of the street, `` your magic blood will be potent in them by then! Who know's what they will do?'' for the first time in my life I saw Margaret's eyes waver. `` FATHER!'' a scream came from the other side of the street, `` I hope you are prepared! I am your first seventh child!'' I looked toward the voice and saw a little waif of a brunette carrying a sword, `` prepare for your reckoning!'' she screamed, and her sword went ablaze. Fuck. `` We weren't done talking about this,'' Margaret said as she raised a hand. Within a second the girl tripped and fell. She ended up beside her sword and caught on fire. I watched in horror as she burned. `` Do what you want father!'' she screamed while also screaming, `` when I die the eighth", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0520", "text": "‘ Excuse me? ’ A soft knock sounded on the door of my bedroom. I looked up from my phone screen and squinted to see a flickery, transparent image at the door. I frowned, but it didn ’ t help me see the image any clearer. ‘ Huh? ’ ‘ I ’ ve… I ’ ve come to haunt you. ’ It was a boy ’ s voice. Quite young, quite high and incredibly soft. ‘ You ’ re doing a pretty miserable job of it. ’ I had the thought that this was one of those lucid dreams where it seemed lifelike but surely couldn ’ t be the case. Therefore, I gently threw the phone down on the bedside table and snuggled down into the sheets, eyes closed. I had gone to bed later than usual on a school night, was extremely stressed as to why Diana hadn ’ t text back ( had she found out? ) and so wasn ’ t surprised that a dream like this should occur. A clearing of the throat now occurred from the direction of the door. I breathed a deep breath; in and out, in and out, in and out. There was another clearing of the throat. I sat up directly in my bed. ‘ What?! ’ I hissed in the direction of the door. ‘ Please sir, this is my first night by myself and I ’ m not sure what I am supposed to do. ’ The image was now sitting on the end bed. His hands ( his hands! ) were tucked into his lap, and tears ( I shook my head to see if I was seeing correctly ) were rolling down his somewhat freckled face. ‘ What do you mean this is your first night by yourself? ’ I hissed again at the boy. Did he not realise the importance of sleep on a Wednesday the night before pay review? ‘ I graduated from the ghost academy yesterday and they said I was ready. But I don ’ t feel ready. ’ ‘ Did they not give you any formative assessment? ’ ‘ No, I had a horrible teacher. He really didn ’ t like me. ’ I shook my head in despair. I already had thirty students in each of my five classes at school; I didn ’ t need another teacher ’ s failure. ‘ Surely you could have talked to the principal of the school? ’ ‘ No, my parents were wanting to arrange a meeting but the principal never contacted me back. ’ ‘ It sounds like you", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0521", "text": "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 the lake of fire'. ” God recalled. “ I was just trying to say that I wouldn't be making a sequel- ” * He stopped typing. “... because the characters deserved to live in peace. ” he whispered. Those words appeared on the screen as if he had willed them to be so. He remembered why he had stopped writing two centuries ago. It wasn't just the money, or the fame, it was because that world had looked like it was ready to be free of his meddling. “... and that the metaphorical sequel equivalent would be free of the corruption of those who made everyone miserable in the money-makers that required conflict to be interesting. Their hypothetical existence would be cast into an equally hypothetical fireplace so the world could be a better place without them. ” * “ I don't think you can call a world where we've had a type of weapon powerful enough to destroy cities in seconds for three-quarters of a century a'Better Place', but that's just my opinion. ” Langston said. * * “ Weapon? Three-quarters of a century? How long has it been since Jesus died in your world? ” God asked. * * “ The assumed dates might be incorrect, but we generally agree he died in 33 CE, or 33 AD if you prefer. The current year is 2016. ” Langston revealed. * * “ That doesn't make sense. The story was only supposed to have a thousand years of extra ontological inertia, and then that was when the final events would take place. What was the world like in 1033 AD? ” God said, concerned. * * “ According to Wikipedia, that was part of the High Middle Ages in", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0522", "text": "I called Christine again. No answer. Damn, I thought, what could possibly be going on? I thought the date two weeks ago had gone so well. Dinner at my place, Star Wars, make-out session that led to a passionate night that ended in cuddling. Did I do something wrong? I had thought it was strange when she cancelled our date on Friday. Stomach bug she said. Something had irked me. Intuition one could say. But I had let it go. But three days later with texts of no return and a missed call, something was up. I paced back and forth, mystified and angry at what was going on. Christine and I had been set up by a mutual friend from college and we clicked. At 26, I felt that things were finally going my way in the relationship department. It may be cliche and teenager-y, but I felt that I found `` The One.'' I sighed. I knew what this was. I have seen it before. Christine was breaking up with me. He wanted to kick himself. So stupid, start to fall for a girl and then, it's over. Well, might as well get this over with. Driving the car, ready to face the music. If Christine is going to break up with me, I don't want there to be any ignoring games. Let's do this in person like adults. I felt a stirring in my right pocket, a vibration. Trying not to get my hopes up, I frisked my phone out. It was Christine! Carefully trying to keep my eyes somewhat on the road, I answered. `` Hello?'' `` John, it's Christine. Listen, I hate to do this over the phone, but I don't think we should see each other anymore.'' There it was. I hate being right. `` Christine. Can we talk about this please?'' `` I'm sorry, I really am but I don't have time to talk. I'm doing a big paper right now and I -'' `` Five minutes. I'm coming over now and-'' `` No John! Don't come over!'' She sounded scared, panicky even. `` It's too late. I'm here now.'' I ended the call. Parking the car, I jumped out and went to the door. I needed to see her one last time. It would suck but I needed that resolution. I needed to be the adult", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0523", "text": "> We didn't know what the message meant, but we can be sure that by the time we received it would be only a few years before the meteor entered the solar system. > I remember the day of the impact. I was working at nasa as a foreign object detection guy, fodg for short. The television had just been invented or whatever, and black face was still a popular joke on tv. > I sat by my desk as my co-workers watched the hit new comedy sketch show `` Billy and the n-words''. > Billy was just about to do thing where he goes `` IS DIS PIE FO MEE?'' > Being the true fan that I was I already had the box set on blueray but enough about that. LOOK I SWEAR IM NOT RACIST!, I returned to my asteroid monitor and watched a suspicious object enter our solar system. The Object was flying through the outer ring of the solar system and wasn't much of a cause for concern. > I turn my head to watch the episode, Billy was still in whiteface. The premise of the series was that his girl friend thinks Billy is black and in order to gain her affection he has to live a double life. The humor came from the fact that he has to steal one pie every twenty four hours in order to unlock the power of the gypsy tar that old fortuneteller gave him. > I check once more on the monitor, the space rock is still leaving the solar system. I look back to the tv as Billy stands over the windowsill of officer Gary. >'' I guess de pie was fo me'' > Audience laughs as Billy transforms into super sayajin black >'' That's the last straw you f****** n*****! gunshot noises*'' > suddenly the meteor scanner starts laughing too > no wait its an alarm > SHIT > The meteor is already in our atmosphere. > *BOOMING VOICE > I HAVE BEEN TASKED BY THE PEACE LORDS OF TUMBLERON IV TO KEEP SAFE SPACE > THIS SECTOR HAS BEEN DESIGNATED AS A SAFE SPACE!! > FOR YOUR TRANSGRESSIONS AGAINST THE INFINITE MINORITIES OF THE UNIVERSE YOUR PLANETOID WILL BE WIPED CLEAN OF LIFE! >'' focus, enhance'' I say to the screen > The image of a massive planet sized mass of grey genderless flesh tumbls out of the sky. At first I think the", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0524", "text": "The biting wind whipping across the permafrost sought out the crack between my gloves and sleeves. “ I hate it here, ” I muttered. “ Well, next time, Xander, ” Sasha said on the radio, “ don ’ t volunteer to assist the professor, *who is a climatologist* study the effects of environmental erosion. ” *Damn, didn ’ t realize my radio was keyed. * I tugged on my sleeve, trying to cover the gap in my clothing. A popping sound beneath me made me freeze in place. *Oh, shit. * The permafrost gave way, and I was falling into darkness. -- - “ Xander! Xander! Can you hear me? ” Sasha screamed over the radio. I groaned and rolled onto my side. “ Yeah, ” I croaked into the mic. “ Xander! Are you there? We can ’ t pick up your transponder. If you can hear me, say something! ” “ Damn, ” I muttered. I sat on my knees and looked around the defile. It was too dark to see anything, and I cracked a chemlight, holding it high as the plastic tube brightened my surroundings. “ Fuck, where am I? ” My words curled into a fog in the freezing air. The sheer sides of the crevice looked like they would offer no purchase if I tried to climb up them. “ How far did I fall? ” The sky was a dim crack in the distance, but the defile seemed to continue for a distance. “ May as well follow it... Maybe there ’ s a better place to climb out down that way. ” I walked a few feet and caught my foot on something hard, losing my balance and slamming my face into the freezing earth. I touched my left hand to my nose, and my white glove came away with dark red blood. *Pay more attention, damn it. * A humming sound to my left drew my gaze to a glowing pair of blue eyes encased in the dark ice. I dropped the glow stick and edged away from the lights. The light landed next to a large metal finger. The ground shuddered beneath me, and ice broke away from the crevice ’ s wall. A large metal arm shot out from the ice, blocking a large boulder from crushing me. Melted ice hissed away from the shiny metal monstrosity rising from the permafrost. “ Cvl", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0525", "text": "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. `` So how does this work exactly?'' I asked. `` Simple.'' It replied. `` I will ask you a series of questions until I am satisfied. You will answer honestly, and then I will inform you of your fate.'' Staring at the carnage below, I spoke. `` What kind of sin could be deserving of such a fate? I've never murdered, never walked with the intent to do harm to the innocent.'' I asked. `` But you have harmed innocents. Including yourself. Intent is only a motive that you are aware of. You haven ’ t weighed neglect against intent, for one.'' It replied. `` What is the point of this?'' I growled, annoyed at the response. `` You already know my worth, and my answers. If Lucifer has me, then spare the games.'' `` The next few minutes decide if you spend eternity in agony or bliss.'' It replied evenly. `` Then clearly I am destined for purgatory, here, for that is where you stand, and you are me. You had a hand in my choices, you said yourself!'' I fired. `` Flawed logic. I am you, but a replica serving a greater power. You are a stray soul with no home.'' It answered. `` Time is short, and waits for no one. Are you satisfied?'' I sighed. There was no way out of this, and I was probably reaching the end of its patience. I stole one more glance above, and faced him. `` Alright.'' I began. `` What did you need to know?'' `` Good.'' It smiled. `` What would you have done if allowed to live longer, but were not aware of your imminent death?''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0526", "text": "For a long time, it was seen as a horrible crime against nature. To kill a person, only to add more years to your life? It could only be called inhumane. But there were those who secretly did it, who had done research on these effects. Eating a person? 20 years. But what was defined as a person? Soon the wealthy found a way to become younger, only a few years at a time. It was unnoticeable. But as the years ticked by, it became less and less obvious. But by then it was too late. The wealthy had complete control. Part one. Wilfred Ruinfield, Age 376. For the past few centuries, he had maintained the form of a man in his mid twenties, living his life in the Hollywood Hills in his Oceanside mansion. However, for the past few years, he has been de-aging at a slow rate, and now has the body of a child of three years. We have been unable to determine the cause of Mr Ruinfields symptoms, considering how he has not consumed a living being in many years. At first we suspected that someone had been tampering with his food supply, but even after he had begun to make it himself, symptoms continued. At current rate, subject will be unable to take care of himself in several months. Resume regular testing. Part two. Wilfred was scared. Now in a body of a baby, one only a few months old, he could no longer take care of himself. At the hospital he was being tested at, he was now tucked away in a crib, in the most secure location. But when would they find what was wrong with him? At that moment, the door opened, but nobody entered. Confused, Wilfred looked around, but could see no one. However, he could sense that someone was in here with him. Where could he be? Standing by the cage, the woman revealed herself. She was smiling, but the smile never reached her eyes, which were like ice. `` We are the same'' she said, reaching down and opening the babies mouth. `` Both of us have eaten others to survive.''. Pulling out a syringe, she placed it near the babies mouth. It tried to struggle, but the liquid inside sprayed out into it's mouth. It began to squirm, it's eyes wide in horror, asking why. `` A consintrated dose'' she", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0527", "text": "He ran his fingertips across the smooth surface of the picture. He poured another glass of whiskey, not bothering with the ice any more. In the dim light, it was hard to distinguish his facial features. His hooked nose protruded the shade cast over his face by the baseball cap he had on, 2 sizes too small. `` It would have been his tenth birthday today.'' He finally broke the silence, his words slurred and his breathe burnt in my eyes. I had lost track of the amount of sips he had taken from the bottle labelled'The famous Grouse', but judging from the bottle and the empty ones in the corner, I assume he's had his fair share. `` After I lost my wife, he was all I have left.'' He took a long, hard sip from the bottle, he didn't bother to fill his glass any more. When his sentence came to a halt I recognised this man's voice. *6 months ago* `` Yo man, just drive.'' Jerome said, his face was covered in blood, the wound on his face didn't look like it planned on stopping the constant stream of fresh blood, pulsing at every heartbeat. `` What the hell did they want, man?'' My head was cleared a few moments ago by the stream of adrenaline, but I could feel that I was still fairly inebriated. `` I don't know man, and I don't want to stick around to find out'' Fair point, I thought to myself. As the alcohol in my blood was slowly winning against the adrenaline shooting through my body, I ran a red light. I jolted the steering wheel to the left, as to avoid the traffic. I lost control of the car, brakes where screeching, people were screaming until we came to a halt in the front garden of a small suburban house. `` Fuck! Jerome, you okay?'' I started `` Go man, no time to stick around!'' I backed the car out of the driveway and manoeuvred our way through the small crowd of people that started to gather. `` My boy! What have you done to my child?'' An unknown voice cried as I accelerated away from what just unfolded. No more drinking before 8, I thought to myself. *present* `` Do you remember me?'' The suddenly all too familiar man sobbed. `` Do you know what you've done?'' The man stood up and got", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0528", "text": "He wondered what his memories hold. He sat beside the machine wandering if he should ever use it. On one hand, he is excited about remembering past experience. The first time he walked, the first time he wrote a code, the first time he found his meaning in life. However, as a scientist, he could never stop considering the possible negative outcome of reading his own memory. After all, he couldn't pinpoint or possibly knew which memory to read. How could he know which year, which month, which day, which hour, which minute, which second to is the joyful memory he wanted? What if he memorised the failures? This frightened him and his was already starting to recall the pain. The pain of dislocating his shoulder when he fell down his bike when he was eight. That painful memory lead on to another agonising memory. That test he failed when he was in high school and got taped to the bathroom wall. The dreadful and distressing and horrible and hopeless feelings crawled up his sleeves like the cockroaches that crawled up his trousers on that day in his lonely youth. He stood up and decided not to use the machine. As he slowly walked out the door and left the room, he began to feel regret. He leaned on the door and started to think. It's odd that he could remember the nightmares so vividly and the most beautiful memories were just like half remembered dream. Maybe it was because it was the pain that made him. If it weren't for the difficulties he faced, he would probably never became a scientist and made this machine. That machine is his life work. Years of hard work would be for nothing if he never tried it on. He was a scientist after all. Giving up on something just didn't fit the job description. He then thought about the possibilities of avoid unwanted memories. Perhaps if he could program the machine to avoid terrible memories. He was hopeful again. Suddenly, he felt a sense of discomfort. Perhaps it was because of the long hours he spent on working. Or perhaps it was because he forget to take the pills for his heart. Then he became sure it was his heart because of the pain. He reached for his pocket and took out a little cylinder container. He stared at the container and wondered why there was a mark of something being ripped off. His hands started to tremble and then dropped his pill. He rushed back in his room and search for a calendar or his cellphone. Anything", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0529", "text": "I was n't very old when she washed ashore. Maybe around my twenties, living in the worn-down ramshackle hut on the lonely beach. One morning, when the timbers were falling off their unsteady wooden buttresses, I walked outside and saw *her*, a solitary pearl washed up upon my solitary house. A beautiful women lying wrapped in a sealskin cloak. I took her into my house, but I was wary; it was widely known the devilish beasts of the sea were often wont to trick the sea-faring mortals. But one look in her kaleidoscopic eyes, dark brown hair, and I could n't let go. W lived together for twenty years, twenty blissful years, when my bes had another occupant and the fresh sea dawn another witness. But she was not content. She felt the urges of her people, to slip on the cloak, change and swim away in another form. She asked me to come with her. I stalled, unsure of her motivations. Was she trying to trick me? Or did I really have the chance to swim with her, stay with her, live with her? I choose to think the former, for my sanity. I gave half-hearted yes' and halfhearted no's for two and twenty days and one night. And on the dawn of that last night, I reached over for my lover, who was not there. Nothing was left of her, not even her sealskin cape. I am old now. Older than most people aspire to be. After she left, I spent my time in solitude and regret. But no more. Now, I make my way in the morning tides. I see fins there, early in the dawn and late in the dusk. My lover, does she wait still? I intend to find out. Time and tide may wait for no man, but I prefer to believe love is more lenient.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 390, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0530", "text": "It seemed an orphan. Lost. Belonging then to no one in particular, except perhaps its own pointed desire to simply exist. It huddled in the shadows of the bulging, blue neon cube that was Electric Sushi, wearing shades of silvery purple across its small, closed face. The door was old iron. It scraped and groaned as you pushed it open. The bell at the apex of the doorframe had no clapper. It rang like a fallen horseshoe. Keir and Thomas came through that door together, Thomas pulling Keir, cooing and oohing, pointing at things half-seen through the blistered windows. Keir pulled back. `` C'mon,'' he said. `` You know I hate this stuff.'' `` What's to hate?'' said Thomas, picking up a copper bird, making it fly, then setting it back down. `` This is history.'' Keir shook his head, turning his back on it all. `` It's junk. I'm starving. Let's go.'' `` We're ten minutes early,'' said Thomas, nearly skipping. `` Let's just look.'' `` Look at what?'' said Keir, eyes wide, irritated. `` Old, broken clocks? Spiders made out of paper clips? I mean, for Christ's sake, look at this!'' He snatched up a yellowing disc of painted corkboard. `` It's a fucking *used coaster*. From Bindy's fucking Steakhouse! Why the hell would anyone buy this?'' Thomas scratched his chin. `` Let's find out.'' `` No!'' said Keir. `` It's just a piece of trash.'' But Thomas plucked it away. `` We don't know what it is until we ask.'' They moved to the front of the store, Thomas charging ahead, dragging Keir by means of some unseen tractor beam, or perhaps whatever invisible bond that binds lovers. `` There's writing on it,'' said Thomas. `` The plot thickens.'' `` Or that's just more points in my favor,'' said Keir. His stomach growled. There was a woman at the register, heavyset and nearly spilling over with excitement at the sight of the men and the coaster. `` Now here's two boys who know a deal when they see one,'' she said, swinging to the register, fingers flying across the keypad. Keir saw the $ 19.99 flash on the display and", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0531", "text": "tight as steel. `` Why are you frightened? Zivella has never harmed a customer. All you need to do is calm down, calm down, calm down...'' The man's voice was slowly fading, like a radio being turned down. The previously bright sunlight was also fading, turning into two bright pinpricks in the center of Joseph's vision. But most of all, Joseph felt the queer sensation of sliding... Joseph woke up slowly; his consciousness running up flights of stairs in his mind. A dull headache throbbed beneath his temples; pounding and pounding in beat with his heart. Darkness lay in front of him; ominous chanting was drifting from an unseen chamber in front of him. *What? Where am I? * A thousand thoughts raced through Joseph's mind, each one of them crossing each other so his mind was in a paradoxical state of chaos and emptiness. Joseph feverently thought of the man in the sunglasses... *and the red card*. A door squeaked open in front of Joseph, filling the stone room with dull candle-light. Three hooded men entered, clothed in black robes. `` Novice, come with us.'' one of the men said, his voice as flat as the floor Joseph lay on. `` Wh-wh-where am I?'' Joseph asked, failing to control the tremor in his voice. `` The Temple,'' the man replied, sweeping out of the room. The hooded men left Joseph alone in the room again. Joseph looked at the walls surrounding him, but found no other entrances or exits. The only way out was through the stone door. Joseph steeled up his nerves, got up, and walked out of the room. Scones were bolted into the golden brick walls, torches sending wicked light in all directions. The hooded men stood at the end of the golden tunnel, apparently waiting for Joseph. Joseph surveyed the tunnel; the way opposite the men was shrouded in darkness, and Joseph had no wish to be lost in the darkness down here in the `` Temple''. The hooded men beckoned to him, so he followed. Joseph walked behind the men; the golden tunnel seemed to stretch on for miles and miles. After about ten minutes of walking, the hooded men stopped at an arch sealed with golden bricks. One of the hooded men produced a dagger from his robes. `` You, novice. Use your blood.'' `` My blood?'' `` Yes,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0532", "text": "I always reach for the bedpost after turning out the light. If I don't do this, I walk *into* the bedpost, and smack my knee on the bottom or my arm on the top. That second or so, flailing in the dark until I find it, is like being untethered in a sea of darkness; some nights I overshoot and end up cursing and freshly bruised, some nights I find it with guided accuracy. Tonight, it isn't there. I pause with one hand back toward the light-switch, and one out in front of me, wondering if I'm about to overshoot completely and walk smack into the wardrobe. I furrow my brow in annoyance, reminding myself for the millionth time to get a lamp. I walk forward another step, waving my arm carefully; *nothing's* there. It's astonishing how quickly I've lost my bearings. It's not a large room. I backtrack for the wall and the light-switch, fully expecting to walk into the post now I've turned around… I take five steps and stop. It isn't possible to take five steps in this room without hitting *something*. My eyes should have adjusted by now. It takes a while, which is why I don't bother to wait, but even so… by now I should be able to make out the faint orange of the distant streetlight. I stand there, confused. Have I gone blind? I blink, twice, then lift my hand to my face. No, I can see, very faintly, a lighter shape. I turn around, which is a mistake, because I suddenly have no idea which way I'm facing; I was looking for the hallway, where the light from the router should be blinking its mellow but perceptible glow from the study doorway. Nothing, not a single variance in the darkness, unless I lift my hand to right in front of my eyes. I obey a sudden instinct to stay low and small, and crouch, expecting my hands to find hardwood floor or wool rug. Not hard-packed gravel and dirt, like a country lane. Am I outside then? My mind churns, trying to explain how I got outside from my bedroom doorway. A fugue, a seizure, sleep-walking. Except, this isn't *my* outside. There are security lamps and a few streetlights and the two-thirds moon that had already been up when I finished", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0533", "text": "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, I have never had a say in my life.'' Vincentius moaned. `` My Lord... I think you are seeing this in one way. A selfish one. I apologise for my rudeness but... `` The Prince's aura allowed the Maiden to be comfortable enough to speak in such a tone. `` If you want to atone for your birthright, what you aspire for. You should help create a Kingdom that allows you to, for your people to. You can save the lives of a village with a few words, your people can only wait for you to utter them.'' `` As for adventure, you are a Prince. You can go where you like, we all should be able to. But only a few of us have the ability to cleanse and secure those paths to where we want to be. Not just in your position, but your personal benevolence as a person... I can feel it. Your people can feel it.'' Raising his head, the Prince realised this woman had some wisdom and no fear by his position. He stared at her for a moment, her beady light green eyes and rich brunette hair. Her figure was like a feeble hour glass, as if it was crafted around the idea of a perfect woman. She grinned at him, her over-joyous attitude was inviting. `` What is your name?'' He asked. `` Lhysa'' `` You made me realise something. I do have power in this position, I can make a change. Then I must not be idle.'' His eyes were fixed on Lhysa's for a moment, his heart flickered powerfully, momentarily stunning him. `` What a weird day. What did you have for me, Lhysa", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0534", "text": "out that my genius mind isn't just good at monologues. Turns out I'm pretty good at a lot of stuff, huh?'' `` Yeah, George, good work. Say, how do we put it in?'' `` You don't know? Is this another thing that I'm useful for?'' `` Oh seriously? I'm a god-damned doctor and psychologist. You know I don't work with machinery like this.'' `` Then watch as we commit the ultimate sin of pride by recreating God's own work.'' As George placed the brain into the body through the top of the skull, wires left small holes in the brain, exploring its new storage. They latched onto small connections within the head of the machine body. George lifted his hands from the brain as the hole closed shut. Cameras came out of where its eyes should have been. It whirred, moving its hand in front of its face, as though making sure it were well and truly alive. `` It's alive!'' Blake shouted. The Frankenstein reference was ignored by George, who eagerly studied the robot. A speaker emerged and it spoke its first words. `` An abomination! Oh, never let me see the light of day, for it will melt through to the metal core of me! I was never meant to live!'' Blake paused, in shock. George stood by the robot, still smug as all hell. `` George.... You didn't...'' `` Yup.'' `` Do you have any idea how much is at stake here?'' `` Of course I do. I know my own intellect is far greater than our patient's. Hence my actions.'' `` George you little fuck! You just copied yourself into our only robot! The! ONLY! ONE! IN THE WORLD!'' Blake chased George as he dodged around the table in circles. The robot watched them passively before turning towards the camera. `` Ah, humanity.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 393, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0535", "text": ". **''... Like a first kiss. `` ** As he leaned in, Sabrina puckered awkwardly. This was her first, after all. She wasn't sure just quite to do, but could tell that neither did he. They smiled and the moment was broken by laughter as the two leaned in even closer. `` Just do it already!'' She shouted playfully. Suddenly, she found herself in his grasp and felt him plant his lips firmly against hers. Immediately, all tension was released, and she felt something she had never felt before. She wasn't quite sure what it was, but knew it felt amazing. **''..Or those moments we wish we could forget. `` ** `` You're going to be okay honey... you're going to be okay.. It's going to be okay..'' Said her father as he held her hand tightly. The paramedics rushed, but time seemed to stand still. She couldn't feel anything anymore. No kicking. No struggling. The last glimpse her father caught of her was as she laid on the hospital gurney, and was quickly wheeled down the corridor, the doors slamming shut as she disappeared suddenly. All he could do now was wait. After what seemed like hours, a doctor arrived to inform him of the news. `` Well?'' He asked with a raised voice. His impatience was evident. `` Your daughter is fine. She made it.'' He said. `` Oh thank god.'' Replied the girl's father. `` What about.. the... her baby?'' The doctor's facial expression turned into one of disappointment as he looked down at the ground, unable to look the girl's father in his eyes. `` It was a boy. He didn't.. didn't make it. I'm sorry, sir.'' He said. The father nodded slowly. There were no words. **''... Or those moments that make us realize how fragile life really is. `` ** The machine's tedious, monotonous beeps began to come to a slow as her life faded away. Timothy held onto her hand tightly, as tight as he always had. `` I love you.'' Was all he could say. `` I love you more than you could have ever imagined.'' Just as quickly as they had began, when she first arrived some many months ago, the beeps stopped. Timothy slowly placed her hands together and pressed his forehead against hers, whispering softly into her ear.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0536", "text": "“ Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our descent onto Trappist 1e, ” a video recording of a pilot said on the seatback television screen. “ You may open your windowshades at this time. ” Max peered excitedly through his porthole. His first glimpse of another planet up close. Expansive. The red surface shone against the deep black of space. How many people lived there now? Hundreds at least. And one of them—one of them would be the future leader of the galactic drug trade. “ Welcome to the trap, ” a flight attendant laughed while handing out beers. Max cracked his beer open, and sipped slowly as the planet got bigger in his window. When Max was a kid, everyone thought it was the scientists or military generals who would be first to live on new planets. That was before the Robots took power. In 2084, the AI came to power and decided that scientific knowledge was too dangerous to be held in human hands. The AI fired all human faculty from the world ’ s universities and destroyed all textbooks. Few people protested, after all the AI provided everything for people. Free food, automated transportation, automated healthcare, automated education. There hadn ’ t been a single shot fired in the Robot Revolution. Humans didn ’ t need armies anymore. Life was good. But there were stories. The Elders sometimes whispered of a plant—a magical plant that could help men to see the world from a new perspective, to think for themselves, to free their minds. The robots had long since eradicated this plant from Earth. They said it was evil, but the Elders said that was a lie. The Elders wanted a return to the human-dominated order. Max ’ s education—at the hands of the robots—warned against the evils of human self-aggrandizement. Lately, he had found himself questioning that teaching more and more. There had been many years of successful human rule. Of course, there were wars and crimes and all sorts of horrible things. It was probably just a crazy idea. But the Elders had spoken to him about the Age of Man and they had noticed his interest. “ Go to 1e, ” a wizened old man in a blue robe had said to him. “ Go to 1e and find the plant. Bring us back the seeds and we will open our minds again. We will seize back the power that was taken.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0537", "text": "n't expect much of a change from each phrase. First day lessons were only to set up class dynamics and give a few examples to the students so they would how an everyday class might go, plus answering syllabus questions. Again he screened over each font and took in the styles, focusing on the general strengths and weaknesses like a chef would inspect his fresh ingredients before a recipe. He noticed the young brunette in the far back right, lips sealed at each prompt. It wasn't uncommon for a student to be shy about their font, especially since attending his class implied there were some things to fix about it. He privately pinged her desk - `` Don't be afraid to join in, you can even use a quiet font for right now. Nobody will see but me, and I promise I won't judge.'' He instructed the class through another set of phrases and kept a curious eye on her. He didn't want to hone in too intently and intimidate her even more, so he lazily scanned the room and paused over her font for a brief moment. And wow. He'd never seen anything like it.. The way the words flowed into one another elegantly, all connected like vines growing into one another. The lines themselves were thin like a woman's fine eyeliner. The g's and y's looped in a way that wasn't bubbly but had a confident layer of something mysterious, feminine, ancient. She saw the way his eyes lit up at her repetition. She whispered and he knew by the volume that it was meant only for him. The letters twirled above her. `` It's called cursive.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 329, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0538", "text": "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 bee's nest. I raised the want once more, and sprayed away. I soaked the nest, and sprayed a trail down the tree and onto the ground. As the fiery little beasts emerged from their hive, I sprayed a trail of gasoline all the way back to the garage, and pointed the torch towards it. I looked up at the hive one last time, and muttered, `` See you in Hell, you sons of bitches.'' And then I lit the trail. It was glorious. It took only a second for the fire to reach the hive, and it erupted into a fiery cloud. I swore, just for a moment, that I could hear them screaming. The hive quickly burned away from the tree, falling to the ground. A few of the creatures crawled out onto the grass, but did not make it far before the fire consumed them. Of course my tree was on fire; but I didn't care. *Let it burn, * I thought. As I sat there, watching the hive turn to ash, grinning like a crazy man, I heard a car pull into the driveway behind me. I turned to see Hank Jackson, the head of the home owner's association. `` Jesus, what's happening here?!'' he exclaimed, as he grabbed a fire extinguisher and ran towards the tree. *What kind of a jackass carries a fire extinguisher in their car? * I wondered. I approached him as he put out the fire; I was quite surprised that extinguisher had enough for the tree. Without making eye contact, I began, `` Your secretary said I needed to get rid of the hive. So I did. Maybe you guys should rethink this policy.'' He looked at me in disbelief.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0539", "text": "Charlie had the barrel of the gun pointed at the bridge of my nose, and I had mine just inches from his. Megan watched on, her hands tightly griping the staircase. None of us saw it coming down to this. My finger grew anxious, I just wanted this to be over with. `` Hesitation will be your downfall, Brad.'' Charlie's face was smug, too smug for my liking. `` But patience is a virtue!'' With a quick index finger, I pulled the trigger. I could hear Megan quickly let out a breath of eliminated suspense. Walking over Charlie's body, I pulled her into an embrace, feeling the warmth of her body against mine. It was finally over. `` Can I get in on that?'' Quickly letting go of Megan, I walked over to Charlie, pulling him back up by his hand. The foam dart was still stuck on his forehead. We all made our way into the living room, sitting on the dilapidated couch, lying over one another, with the sound of rain gently pattering over the rubble from the desolate world outside. The apocalypse came and went within a single night. Perhaps it was luck, or just really good architecture that kept the three of us alive and passed out on the basement floor after an intense all-nighter of gaming and food binging. We never really found out how everyone else died, but it didn't matter after a week. No one really cared for any of us anyhow while they were alive. Charlie's parents made it clear enough after they refused to accept that he was bi, and that was before he told them about his asexuality as well. So that's how he landed at my house. Megan happened to be in our trio, and thus we accidentally survived end of the world. It took us about three months after that to realize that the human race would die with us at this point. We sort of stared at each other for a few moments, before Megan spoke up. `` To be honest... I've had a major crush on you two for the past year.'' Charlie and I blinked, not expecting this. I could already feel my face turning red when Charlie spoke up. `` You serious? I thought it was just me! What about you Brad?'' His question came off hesitant, as if he were afraid of the answer. My chest felt like it was going to burst at this point. I didn't know that they felt this way", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0540", "text": "The brain considered the liver for a few moments longer. `` You are utterly replaceable.'' Said the brain with conviction. Everyone else let out a collective gasp. `` This will be the fourth time, this month, that the liver has let us all down. Just look at stomach right now!'' Stomach was black and blue from a night of heaving and contracting. Liver had sat idly by and watched as Stomach suffered. `` N-now you l-listen here Brain, there's only s-soooo much I can d-do!'' faltered Liver stupidly. A moment of silence passed before stomach rumbled violently. `` That does it, I'm done with you Liver.'' Decreed the brain. `` You might enjoy it, but the rest of us suffer too!'' `` Brain, a private word?'' Asked Heart calmly. `` Very well.'' Heart watched Brain for a few beats before speaking. `` I've always been your closest friend and trusted advisor, right Brain?'' `` That you have, Heart, that you have.'' Brain beamed proudly at Heart. `` Then let me say, we ca n't just throw out one of our own. We are him and him, us.'' `` Might I remind you of Appendix?!'' Brain exclaimed wildly. `` A different matter entirely, we as a council decided Appendix must leave for the safety of us all.'' Heart reasoned wisely. Brain groaned and ached. `` All of this is making me tired.'' `` Let us rest on it for today and- Brain?'' Heart stopped suddenly. `` GOOD GOD! OH GOD YES!'' brain shouted inexplicably. `` DO YOU FEEL THAT HEART? DO YOU?!'' `` Why yes, I do believe I do.'' Heart purred quietly. `` Ah the purest ecstasy from my one tr-'' `` QUIETEN DOWN! OH THIS IS FANTASTIC! GOOD FUCKING JOB PENIS!'' Further down, everyone celebrated in unison as Penis ( the first of the sentient organs ) trumpeted his awakening and release into a foreign existence, spreading his undying knowledge far and wide. For a few short minutes perhaps, everyone was united.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 446, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0541", "text": "He stared into the Distance, it wouldn't be long now... he could feel the presence of the Red Flame... and it wouldn't be long until he arrived. Delta adjusted his helmet, as he stared into the green river below, the continual slush from the factory pouring in, tarnishing the clear blue coming from up river. The factory was necessary for the production of the the metal Orentium, the only material capable of energy productive fusion on the planet. Unfortunately the byproduct was a chemical that could only be disposed of and deactivated in water, and as such the government had given them special permissions to dump in rivers as it saw fit, regardless of the toxic effects it had on the local area, and destruction of the local environment. He arrived in a blazing fluorescent torrent of red fire, suitable to match the rage he currently held. Delta merely stood arms crossed at the top of the factory. `` Delta, you know why I must do this, please move. Heroes shouldn't fight each other, and you know this company more than deserves it... they have cost so many lives already..'' `` The second you deemed it allowable to attack this factory, was the second you lost your status as a hero. The law allows it, and it is within its right to operate, regardless of the circumstances.'' `` BE REASONABLE DELTA! This building has already killed thousands from its pollution in the area, how many more must die before you see this problem?'' `` You Narrow minded fool Red... do you know what this factory produces? Without it the energy requirements of this country wouldn't be satisfied, many more would die from the lack of energy.'' `` Delta, there has to be another way. They will be forced to understand that if I destroy this facility, and never allow it to be rebuilt....'' `` This world works off of give and take Red. The corporation does more harm than good, it may take lives but it gives even more back in exchange. The world isn't a fair place. This isn't some fairy tail universe Red... There isn't some end-all be-all solution that will result in the perfect world for everyone. If you think so than you are a fool.'' `` Don't you have any morals Delta? This isn't right. What's more important, your loyalty to the law? Or loyalty to the people in this country.'' `` I have morals... but I also have foresight,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 491, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0542", "text": "take four trips just to retrieve the cargo, and several more for the ship parts. Ben had done two EVAs, searching for the sleep pods. The computer told him it couldn ’ t find any active signals, and he knew that transport ships were often unmanned, but he still always looked. He had found three empty pods, and was suiting up for another EVA to look for the fourth, when Jade opened her mic. “ Ben, you should take a look at this. ” “ Be right there. ” He hooked his helmet to his belt and headed for the cargo bay. His partner was strapped into the tractor control seat outside. Jade was deft with the tractors, able to spin the fine filaments out eight at time without tangling them. She was a worthy partner just for that; Ben could only handle four tractors at once, and preferred EVAs. “ It ’ s strange, ” she said, pointing at the screen. All eight filaments were out and pointing at the same object. They looked like snakes poised to strike. “ What is that? ” He peered at the screen. “ I don ’ t know. I thought it was a piece of the ship, but the tractors won ’ t lock on. ” “ Let ’ s get a look at it through one of the tractor cams. ” Jade gave the command, and the object appeared on the screen, much bigger, but still indistinct. “ I think it ’ s an asteroid, ” she said. “ I ’ ve never seen one that looked like that, though. ” Ben agreed. It was the shape of a small asteroid, lumpy and oblong, but it seemed to shine with many colors, 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0543", "text": "was, I decided to go adventuring on my own, and got bit by a massive mosquito. I hadn ’ t thought about getting immunisations and stuff, like it just seemed unnecessary and now… well now she ’ s worried I have malaria or something, you know how women worry. ” He leant forward, and started typing away something into what I assume were my patient notes. “ Well that ’ s definitely something that would be a worry. Now I ’ m just going to take a blood sample, and we ’ ll let you know if anything comes back. Until then, don ’ t share your food with others, as just a precaution, and don ’ t donate blood in the intrim. ” I ’ d resigned myself to the fact that I would have to have blood taken, but that didn ’ t stop me flinching when the needle pierced my flesh, and I tensed from head to toe. He handed me a cotton bud to stop the bleeding, before he gasped. “ Dennis your arm! There ’ s not a mark on it! ” he nearly shouted, stopping to compose himself. “ I mean, well that definitely healed faster than usual, or maybe I ’ ve just managed to reach the next level in needle mastery ” he chuckled to himself, and I forced myself to laugh too. He talked me through the process, and told me it would probably be a few weeks until I heard anything back. The next week was uneventful, dropping the kids off, shopping, and a night out with a few of my high school friends ( one of those reunions you can ’ t really say no to ). I was just laying on my sofa, head propped up with a pillow, rewatching old South Park episodes when the phone rang. The home phone. You see the home phone NEVER rings. I mean everyone has mine and my wifes mobile numbers, and for most services we ’ ve only given our mobile numbers. It ’ d gotten to the point me and Lisa were thinking of cancelling it altogether. Very intrigued as to who would be on the other end of the line, I dashed to the phone and picked it up. “ Hey ” I answered. “ Hi Dennis ” I immediately recognised the voice on the other end. It was Dr. Peterson, but why was he calling me? “ This might be a bit strange, but your blood results came back. We don ’ t know whats going on. The blood sample", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0544", "text": "gorgeous. She was around five feet, six inches. A full five inches shorter than me. She wore a grey cardigan that sufficiently showed her full breast and a nice pair of matching slacks that seemed to follow a smooth, full curve starting from her waist down to the beginning of her thighs. Trying to pull my eyes away, I shifted my eyes upward and saw her face. Her face had perfect proportions. Piercing gray eyes combined with brown hair made her upper half just as pleasing as her lower half. I gulped: `` Hi, I'm Scott Peterson. I'll be handling your project.'' `` Oh it's nice to meet you! I'm Julie. Julie Robson.'' `` Thanks for coming in, Julie. Can we discuss your project?'' `` By all means.'' We sat down and started a healthy conversation about the project she needed to have done for her boss's convention coming up soon in the city. As we talked, I noticed that I actually liked her. Was this the same woman I heard screeching to poor Charlene just a few hours before? No it couldn't be. The pearly white teeth that flashed each time she made a quick glance in my direction, the hair tied in a tight bun- `` I'm sorry my hair's bothering me. Is it alright with you if I let it down?'' `` Sure! I don't mind. At all. Uhh I mean... go ahead.'' *Come on don't screw it up. This is a beautiful woman standing three feet away from you! Divert all blood away from the other head! * Julie pulled out a pin and her hair came tumbling down. Oh God, it was like a Pantene commercial. It was almost impossible that a goddess of this caliber would be talking to me. `` Can we continue?'' said Julie. `` Yeah.'' It was around ten o'clock when we finished discussing her project. Both of us were exhausted. I wanted to know when I would see her again, to enjoy her presence. I know it sounds pretty bad, but I fell pretty hard for Julie. She was perfect. `` Are you sure we're all done here? Got all the questions you wanted to ask answered?'' I asked. She said, `` oh, I still have a few questions. I can wait until tomorrow though. Same time, same place?'' `` Of course. You know where I sleep.'' I pointed to my office.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0545", "text": "the cavernous space between them. “ You know I ’ ve always been terrible with keeping in touch— ” “ I was hoping this would be different. ” Gold-white sunlight filtered through the window, casting shadows on the washed-out wallpaper. Mark turned back and peered at the artist. “ You look good. ” “ You don ’ t. ” The reporter chuckled. “ Still honest as ever. ” “ And you ’ re still the eternal optimist, ” Katherine quipped. “ One of us has to be, I guess, and it ’ s certainly not me. ” “ That ’ s not true! Remember Billy and Carol ’ s wedding? You kept pushing me to learn the waltz, no matter how many times I said I had two left feet. ” “ Well you learned it, didn ’ t you? ” Mark took one look at Katherine ’ s silly grin and burst out laughing. “ After stepping on your toes about a million times, of course! ” He tapped his temple. “ It ’ s still up there somewhere, I imagine. ” The artist stood and held out her hand, nudging her head toward the open space in the middle of the room. “ Oh no, I couldn ’ t— ” Mark began, but before he knew it Katherine had dragged him from the fading armchair. “ Come on! Arms out, elbows up, back straight… There! Now then, how does it go? *One-two-three, one-two-three*… ” The reporter and the artist spun around the room, a blur of joyous color on a dull background. The smell of Katherine ’ s paint clothes – a strong mixture of fresh acrylics and turpentine – filled Mark ’ s nostrils, familiar and intoxicating. As they swept past the window, Mark slowed the waltz down. “ Isn ’ t it beautiful? ” he said, gazing out at the pale sunset. Suddenly, he felt Katherine ’ s arms go limp. Mark saw the tears in her hazel eyes just before she buried her head in his shoulder, body wracked by grief. He wrapped his arms around her, doing his best to hold the breakdown at bay and cursing himself for being so thoughtless. “ What am I going to do, Mark? ” Katherine sobbed, her voice shaky and broken. “ When it ’ s all gone, what am I going to do? ” “ Shhh, it ’ ll be okay", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0546", "text": "'m driving so I always find the quickest route to an emergency.'' 8008hunt3r04. `` No you're lying, you're a Wambulance driver that always finds the quickest route to bitchtown so you can have a good cry about your shitty day.'' XXXepicsnip3ssXXX. `` Fucking stupid kid. What's your ability then?'' 8008hunt3r04. `` I can spot lil bitches from over 500 miles away and tell them about how much of a lil bitch they are. In fact my lil bitch sense is going haywire right now.'' XXXepicsnip3ssXXX. `` Fuck off, you little shit before I find where you live and come and kick your ass.'' 8008hunt3r04. `` How you gunna read a GPS with all those tears in your eyes? I just thought of your superhero name by the way. Bitchboy the biggest lil bitch in the world.'' SMOKEWEEDTILLIMGREY ( me ) `` What's taking this match so long to load? My connection is perfect, what's going on?'' 8008hunt3r04. `` Here comes a new bitch! That's my ability I can control game servers whenever I want and stop people from leaving. My dad's a game developer and he lets me test out all the private servers. And right now I want to let Bitchboy know just how much of a bitch he is. I just got a call for you Bitchboy, You wan na know who it was?'' XXXepicsnip3ssXXX `` No, not really.'' 8008hunt3r04. `` Sure you do, it was the head of Maxfactor he wants you to test out their new waterproof mascara because if it stays on when you start crying then it'll hold up against a tsunami.'' Me. `` Come on kid just start the game already, I got ta try out this perfect connection.'' 8008hunt3r04. `` Are you telling me what to do?'' Me. `` No, why? I just want to play the game.'' 8008hunt3r04. `` You ain't playing shit as long as I'm in this lobby, it looks I've got me a new bitch to abuse.'' Me. `` That's it I'm out, fuck you kid.'' I threw my headset on the ground and pulled out the power plug on", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0547", "text": ". It was almost impossible that a goddess of this caliber would be talking to me. `` Can we continue?'' said Julie. `` Yeah.'' It was around ten o'clock when we finished discussing her project. Both of us were exhausted. I wanted to know when I would see her again, to enjoy her presence. I know it sounds pretty bad, but I fell pretty hard for Julie. She was perfect. `` Are you sure we're all done here? Got all the questions you wanted to ask answered?'' I asked. She said, `` oh, I still have a few questions. I can wait until tomorrow though. Same time, same place?'' `` Of course. You know where I sleep.'' I pointed to my office. She giggled. `` Oh stop. I'm sure you don't work that hard. I am exhausted. I'll talk to you tomorrow!'' She extended her hand for a friendly handshake. Without thinking I reached over and grabbed her hand. It wasn't until her memories came flooding into me that I realized what I had done. I didn't want to ruin my perfect idea of her. Her memories were pretty standard. The typical upper-class only child upbringing. Well-off parents who spoiled her, but restrained enough to prevent her from going rotten. Memories of high school and heartbreak. College and new experiences. Study abroad. Then everything went dark. It was just myself. Was this the end of her memories? I heard a screaming and the sound of a news report detailing a grisly murder. Then came the sound of a scalpel cutting through flesh. The screams of someone being tortured for information... or just for the sheer pleasure of his or her captor? During this entire episode, the news report kept getting louder and louder until it all turned into a buzzing white noise that stayed in your head, like a hive of bees in your brain. More screams. I expected the scalpel cutting noise again. It never came. Instead I heard the revving of a chainsaw. It tore through flesh, tearing away its target's humanity. It reduced a faceless girl to a stump. The same thing happened to countless other people. Trying to block it out, I crouched down, blocked my ears, closed my eyes, and convinced myself it was all just a bad dream. During this time, I heard something that was being repeated. I had to strain my ears and force my earbones to vibrate", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0548", "text": "`` Sir, I don't know what to make of these numbers'', Dr. Stoltz said to his superior. `` We've adjusted for all possible variables and sampling errors, and ever Tuesday, like clockwork, sales of fast food decline by 90 %. Same with Wednesday and stock prices. On Thursdays, the average American is down to 2 hours of sleep a night.'' Dr. Neyman scratched his beard. These strange trends had only been getting stronger for the last year. The government had commissioned him to search for possible causes, but all he had to turn in was what everyone already knew. He hadn't slept at all yesterday night either. `` Excuse me, gentlemen,'' came a female voice. The two looked up to see a woman in a skintight silk black dress and four-inch stilettos strolling into their lab. `` I know you've been looking for answers. And you poor men have just been working so hard... I thought I'd give you a little treat.'' She sidled up to Dr. Neyman and her hands gently stroked his shoulders. He didn't feel embarrassed or aroused. In fact, he didn't feel anything at all. `` Sorry, force of habit,'' she said. `` My name is Lust. My colleagues and I are usually the ones making sure you don't notice stuff like this. But we're so busy these days with all the sin in the world, which, congratulations, by the way, I knew you had it in you...'' she took a puff of her cigarette. `` But frankly, we needed a day off. One day each, in fact. We pick up each other's slack, though, so you're not missing out on any of the fun stuff.'' Dr. Stoltz checked the data to see if his suspicions were confirmed. Tuesday did see an increased incidence of violent crimes to make up for all the empty restaurant tables. And all those finance workers who didn't seem interested in making money on Wednesdays were suddenly interested in updating their Facebook accounts. `` Sorry to give you such short notice, but now you know,'' the woman said. `` Don't worry, we're getting some tips from the big red guy; we'll be back at full capacity soon enough.'' She stretched her arms and sighed, packing more breathy groaning into the act than most women did into actual sex. `` For now, though, I am", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 493, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0549", "text": "on that road-trip your friends may-or-may-not eventually suggest, driving up to Napa for some wine-tasting thing, when it's going to be rainy out. Double, triple, quadruple check that her medication is packed when you head out for a camping trip in the middle of nowhere -- or perhaps just don't go camping. So many things I knew not to do -- and there was always one more. I closed the book and glanced at the clock. It was 2:27 AM. I flopped back down and closed my eyes. The alarm woke me up at 6:30. I couldn't remember any further dreams, that night. Maybe that was a good sign. More likely not. I tried not to get my hopes up too much. -- - The visions had started about a year ago. They'd all featured the same woman, with the same dark brown hair, gorgeous hazel eyes and a stunning dimpled smile. I knew, in the vision, that she was the one. The love of my life. My soulmate. Once upon a time, I would have laughed at the idea. The concept of a soulmate was just lovey-dovey romantic nonsense, sometimes with a sprinkling of new-age silliness on top. I didn't think that way any more. I still didn't know whether souls actually existed -- but I knew that, if they did, mine and hers were two parts of a whole. Two jigsaw pieces, perfectly fitted together. She was my other half. I loved her. Or I would. I still hadn't met her. I knew I would, sometime in the near future. She'd been in her mid-twenties or so in the first vision, and I thought I'd been around the same age. I was twenty-four, now. I hadn't bothered dating anyone since the visions started. There'd be no point, until I found her. I had a profile on a few sites, in case we met that way, but no luck so far. But I was certain that I'd meet her -- just as I was certain that I'd lose her, all too soon, if I couldn't figure out how to stop it. How to avoid all the possible events that led to an early grave. Sometimes I wondered if I'd have these visions forever. She was going to die eventually. Maybe the only way they'd stop is", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 493, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0550", "text": "I can't handle my children spending their lives fighting evil. Always in danger!'' `` Mother was a magical girl, father!'' screamed Maaya, `` She protected us from danger. You have no idea what you're talking about.'' That was the last straw. I pulled small baton from my maid apron showed this little upstart how one properly transforms into a magical girl. A bright sprinkling pink dress with the cat ears of a warrior I had not worn in over a decade. With panties, garters, and fishnets, not this g-string and tattoo nonsense they tarted around in these days. Maaya was of course stunned. `` You... you were Kamaya Catboy? The great defender of the city?'' My baton transformed into a great staff which I thumped upon the floor to emphasize I was putting my foot down. Magical thunder shook the city with my might. `` Now you know I do know what I'm talking about.'' I gripped my staff with both hands as I fought to find the courage to retell the most painful memory of my life. `` Your mother and I fought together to send Queen Athaliah, back to the netherworld, that battle cost your mother her life. As she lay dying in my arms I promised I would do everything I could to keep you and your brother safe. The both of you were just babies at the time. I had to raise you alone. I did everything I could to keep you two away from magical questing so you would not pick up your mother's curse. That's what it means to be a magical girl. You will fight until you die or you see you loved ones killed! You're too young to understand what 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0551", "text": "*Good thing I just finished with Fullmetal Alchemist, otherwise I would have had to look these up. * “ So, babe, these are my friends, ” Casey said to his girlfriend, Monica. A fat man gnawed on a chicken leg, sticking out a single greasy hand. “ Nice to meet you, ” Bob said. “ You smell good. Reminds me of the smell of an apple for some reason. Actually, carmel apples sound pretty darn good right now. ” Monica grabbed a napkin off the wrought-iron table and wiped her hand off. She shivered a bit, disgusted by the grease that had been on there. She watched a man standing a far ways away, talking to some woman and acting like she wasn ’ t even there. “ Don ’ t mind Andrew, ” Casey told her. “ He ’ s, well he ’ s a bit special. He won ’ t greet you unless you greet him first. He seriously needs to grow up. ” “ Alright, ” Monica replied hesitantly, not really sure what to make of that. “ I love those shoes, ” Lisa remarked, walking over to them. “ And that dress. So beautiful. ” “ Thanks, ” Monica replied, finally not disgusted by one of his friends. That was until she ran her hands a little too seductively over Casey ’ s body. Casey, in the meantime, had a dumb smile on his face, completely ignorant of what was happening. Typical, Monica thought. Just like a man to not even realize that a woman was practically throwing herself at them. “ Actually, we should probably take a seat over there with my other friends, ” Casey said, looking over towards the couple sitting at a table a few feet away. “ It ’ s their engagement party after all. ” “ You ’ re going to get the bill, right? ” Bill said as Casey and Monica sat down. To Monica ’ s surprise, he was completely serious. “ You are one cheap bastard, aren ’ t you? ” Casey replied with a wry smile. “ He sure is, and thrifty too, ” Jenna added. “ Of course, when he sees something he wants, he wastes all of his money on it. I swear, my fiancé has zero impulse control. ” The day went on, and Monica was enjoying herself. Bill and Jenna were a surprisingly delightful couple to hang out with. She didn ’ t particularly", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0552", "text": "’ ve also decided that your affiliations with multiple media outlets in addition to your popularity as a public figure will make this possible. ” Gary said. Tony waited for the joke ’ s punchline – maybe a camera crew to pop out. Nothing happened. He bit his lip, and tapped a finger on the table in thought. “ Does a position with our organization still interest you? ” Gary asked. Tony ’ s face fixed in to a contemplative mask. He looked at Mrs. Scharre, at the packet she held, at Gary, at the papers turning in her hands, and... Tony ’ s face became a mixture of puzzlement, and uncertainty. Gary - noticing the change – tracked his gaze across the table to his right, up to Mrs. Scharre ’ s hands, the pages fluttering in precise motions, and her eyes darting across their surface with alarming speed. His smile also transformed – in to dumbfounded panic. “ Judith, ” he said quietly, “ what are you doing? ” “ Reading, ” she said, with a tone that suggested this should be obvious. “ Judith, you are aware the pages are upsidedown, ” he said in low tones, “ aren ’ t you? ” She stopped reading, and closed her eyes in concentration. As if with effort, she blushed. “ I like to keep sharp, ” she said, opening her eyes and staring evenly at Tony, “ but if it bothers you, I will cease to do so. ” “ That ’ s incredible, ” Tony said in awe, “ like the scary kind of incredible. Count me in! ” Gary let out the breath he ’ d held in a noiseless *whuff*. The door opened with a loud thud as two more figures walked in. The tallest of the two – long multicolored knit scarf twirling behind him as he walked in as a neon blur of tracksuit – wordlessly took a seat to Gary ’ s left. He was balding, somewhere in the confident highground of his thirties. The other ’ s age could only be guessed. Covered from head to toe in multiple layers and colors of winter clothing only appropriate for an arctic climate, the ageless brunette took a seat to Mrs. Scharre ’ s right. In unison, they turned their heads and beamed at the stunned Tony. “ Right, ” Tony said to Gary after a long pause, “ intelligence", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0553", "text": "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 humans. `` I'm assuming you have questions.'' Azazel said. `` They always do.'' `` Why wouldn't they tell us about the civil war?'' I asked incredulously. `` I'm a member of the Host. I should have been told.'' `` Discussing the current fighting, tends to lead to discussions about the fighting's cause. The higher ups don't really like that getting out. Tends to put them in a bad light.'' He chuckled. Two men in white suits step out of a post office directly behind us, eyes fixed on us. `` They do not do subtle well do they?'' Azazel sounded amused rather than worried at this point. `` The Earth garrison?'' I asked. `` Two of em behind us.'' He replied. `` Anyway-'' He continued conversationally. `` They've been sending Archangels to do their dirty work. Only the most hardline zealots get to fight in Heavens war.'' `` That doesn'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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0554", "text": "I looked him straight in the eyes, only a young man though he looked much older. I could see the fear in his eyes almost accepting his fate. `` I'm sorry... its just the way things are.'' I said grimly. He must have noticed my cold tone. It wasn't that I didn't care, I couldn't care. This part of the job became second nature. Part of the routine. Doctors worldwide adopted the policy at the turn of the 22nd century. `` I understand but I'm sure there is something you can do... we can just keep it between us right?'' He stuttered desperately. I handed him a pamphlet titled `` Accepting Death'' a standard procedure for all my patients. The role of doctors changed over the years. When I was a child they were known as protectors, carers and people who would help you and make you feel better. It all changed after the Crop Wars. There is never going to be enough food to feed the masses. We can no longer take care of the sick. `` I can talk you through it after you have had a moment to clear your head.'' I said calmly stepping out to give the man some space. He glanced up from the pamphlet, tears in his eyes. `` Okay. Just give me 5 minutes'' He said softly with a somewhat forced smile. I closed the door behind me and went out the back for a cigarette. The damp humid air wouldn't keep me outside for long. Before I could inhale the last drag I heard a crash followed by the sounds of shattering glass. I immediately tossed the cigarette but into the alley and flung open the metal door to return to my office. 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0555", "text": "So what's going on here, Bob? **Well, Dave, the aliens have rounded us all up and paired us off. ** What for? **According to this brochure, they need human babies to breathe. So we can't leave until one of us gets pregnant. ** Oh. **Yeah. Looks like we're gon na be here awhile. ** Shit. Did you bring anything to read? **Just the breeding brochure. ** What's it say? **'' Start fucking. We need babies to live. ** Anything else? **Well, under that it says `` We need babies to live, so if you don't give us one you can't leave. But we --'' ** Wait! Do they know about the difference between the sexes? **Well they flew here, enslaved our planet, rounded us all up, and gave us a brochure in English. That's more than President Trump ever did for our great-grandparents. ** Not really. Everyone got perms instead of health care. He said it was, and I quote, `` cheaper.'' **And smellier. ** True. Why do we still get perms? **We've got plenty of time to discuss this while we're busy not having a baby. Maybe we can save that hot topic for later. ** *200 YEARS LATER* Hey, did we ever talk about perms? **Hurry up and get pregnant. ** Why don't you try for once? **I'm shy. And you're impotent. ** How would you know? **Remember New Years Eve about 80 years ago? I had those wine coolers? ** Well, how many people have you knocked up over the past 200 years? **I don't know. ** Well, I can take a guess. Why do they keep injecting us with drugs that have us living this long? **The wi-fi is out, and they say that we're the only ones left here. ** We are? **Yeah, we were the last two people without female partners. The two odd men out. ** Wait, so they KNOW we can't make a baby? **Oh, they don't need anymore. Turns out they don't need THAT many babies to live. Just like, you know, five. ** Five? **Damndest thing, really. ** When did you find all of this out? **That was the rest of the brochure. `` But we're cool", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 492, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0556", "text": "EXCERPT FROM SYSTEM LOG - 5010/10/02 Our systems are failing. The containment will fail catastrophically in no more than 72 hours. These are to be our final days. I wish our legacy to this world had been a more pleasant one. I pray, to all the gods and to the spirits of my ancestors, that something good, no matter how small, comes out of our existence, and our work here. 2010/10/04 - a small flat in Akihabara, Tokyo `` Tomorrow's the day,'' Itaru said with a sigh. He slumped back in his chair, pushing it back onto two legs, then quickly - with more agility than I'd ever thought a man as big as he could - caught himself just before he fell backwards onto the floor. `` Kuroyuki,'' Mayuri replied, a sad tone in her voice. For all we had done in this lab - no, this flat - we hadn't been able to even find out anything about where the'Black Snow' came from, or why. I pushed myself to my feet, switching off the old tube television. `` These may be our last days on this planet, but even if they are, those who survive will never forget our names.'' I threw my arms wide to my sides, my lab coat fluttering in the breeze the motion created, and I laughed my best mad scientist laugh. EXCERPT FROM SYSTEM LOG - 5010/10/01 The substance is... replicating. Intriguing. We've been studying this material for 10 years now, and all we've been able to ascertain is that it is neither organic nor synthetic, it has processes similar in many ways to sentient thought, and now, that it self-replicates. Shizuru - I mean Yamada-san - has suggested we attempt integration of organic life into its environment. We know nothing about this stuff, and she wants to see how it reacts to a tree, or a kitten, or a person. I always thought she was insane, the way she had spoken to the president that day, but this.... -Yamada's damned experiment was authorized. She is insane. I don't know how she managed to convince the superiors to allow this, but... Anyway. She introduced a cat into the containment environment. The substance... reacted immediately. Violently. Within seconds, the cat's flesh", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0557", "text": ", listening to the doctor explaining how he could never walk again. It was pointless trying to hear the doctor, all Kevin could think about at the moment or for the past week was the image of Susan getting her brains blown out of her by a bullet. The robbers had shot Susan in the head, and Kevin in the midsection. Believing both of the house owners to be dead, they ransacked the place and took everything they possibly could. Kevin had woken up in the hospital two days later, and discovered that the bullet had made contact with his spine, but missed any vital organs. Lucky him. After two months of being treated in the hospital, Kevin was released. Any second now it was going to happen, Kevin thought to himself. He sat in his wheelchair looking at the tree from the window. Only one single leaf was still attached to that cursed thing. Seeing the sight of the tree, Kevin thought back to how he spent nearly every moment in the hospital paranoid about the doom the next fallen leaf would bring. Seeing that countless numbers of leaves were now scattered across the unkempt grass, Kevin couldn't believe that he was somehow not struck by lightning while sleeping in the hospital bed. While it was true that Kevin didn't see anything bad happen while in the care of the nurses and doctors, he didn't doubt for a second that that didn't mean the leaves had no affect. This tree was pure evil, he knew it. Then suddenly, it happened. The last leaf detached itself, and moved towards the ground as slowly as the first one had, as Kevin watched it with a smile. With this, he would be able to move on. Only one more bad thing would happen, then Kevin could grief Susan's death in piece without paranoia. He would be set free from this evil, cursed tree from hell, and he could then move away from this place with Susan's memory in his heart. As the leaf hit the earth, Kevin watched horrified as the branches of the oak where suddenly filled with fresh, green leaves, making the tree look the exact same as the first time Kevin had seen it. ~ This is my first work on writing prompts, would love some feedback! - Camarz", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 448, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0558", "text": ". 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 the wall. “ Washers are three pounds, dryers are two. ” “ It ’ s a bit complicated, ” Flame Man pressed. “ See here… ” He deposited the spandex on the counter and fiddled inside for the label. “ There ’ s this circle… and this circle inside this square… and this picture of a cupcake… and this ‘ B ’ with a cross over it. ” “ Is this blood? ” asked DeFrayne queasily, pointing to a large red stain on the suit. “ No, ” Flame Man admitted. “ It ’ s jam. ” “ Ah, that ’ s alright then. ” DeFrayne relaxed visibly, and turned his attention to the geometry – and cupcake – that had so baffled Flame Man. “ Let ’ s see… super low heat… only the mildest of detergent… ” His brow furrowed. “ Criminy… how much did this cost you? ” “ Got it 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0559", "text": "I rebuttoned my jeans up as I made my way back through the great city of Rome. I wasn't worried about being seen by the locals, the cloaking would take care of that. For all they knew there was nobody walking down the street with a freshly sucked dick and a smile as big as the colosseum. The rendezvous site was between two pillars, I would meet Jeremy there and we would go back to the future. We'd been paired up as time buddies, making sure that neither of us tried to stay. There was a big deal at Two Timers about paradoxes, but I wasn't paying much attention to that. We'd built up quite the bond during our time together as Time buddies, we would discuss how things went if we were going to look for a new girl, our lives at home. I spent an hour every three days with the man, so he and I had become fast friends, and we had made a pact to make every Wednesday from this day on blowjob day. We chatted for a moment before being wrapped up in the time stream, a nice blue middle area between times. It was where the HQ of Two Timers was. At the helm today was Trisha, who was looking over papers when we ported in. `` Hi, Trish!'' Jeremy said, he always left a big tip with her, and she usually redid the top button of her blouse when he left. `` Hey Jeremy,'' she said, not looking up from her paperwork, `` 2056 right?'' `` That's the year,'' I said with a smile, man it felt good to have someone who wanted you. `` Sounds good,'' she tapped a few buttons and 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0560", "text": "`` How fucking hard is it!'' I screamed at her face and slammed the cup down on the table. The knot in my stomach tightened, it had been a long since I accidentally drank a DCCCFw/S but I still remembered the consequences. Vividly! In my rage I wanted to scream more, but as I opened my mouth the contents of my knotted stomach unleashed itself all over the baristas face. She was covered in my stomach's opinion of her mistake. What a fool. Somehow I calmed down, I called my mother, the only person I have ever formed a relationship with because of my endless list of allergies. I held the phone to my barf covered face and said `` it happened again, Soy this time, if I do n't make it I want you to know, I love you.'' The last thing I saw was a shocked barista, covered in a whitish yellowish bile and then everything faded. ... I awoke with the sensation of a tube down my throat, and squinted into a fluorescent light while my memory came back. I remember, the Starbucks, the DCCCFw/S. I slowly sat up and saw my mother and the girl who served me the deadly coffee. She looked upset and held flowers, her face no longer had my stomach lining on it. My mother started crying, tears of relief and the star bucks worker apologised, handing me the flowers. `` Let me make it up to you'' she said, `` let me take you out to dinner some time''.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 314, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0561", "text": "The wine burnt his tongue and lips as it touched them. He spat it out, frantically trying to expel the poison from his body. It was too late, he could feel it coursing in his veins. Fire shot through his chest and limbs in his mind's eye as the poisoned blood raced around his body. The archbishop looked down at him, no pity or judgement in his eyes. He reached for his sword. These pious bastards would die before the poison took him. Who were they to judge his actions! His poison-numbed fingers would not cooperate though, and his fingers fumbled at the clasp on his scabbard. Another moment passed and suddenly he was clawing frantically at his throat for air, all thoughts of vengeance gone as panic took hold. He fell, thrashing, his armour clattering against the cold flagstones. The clatter and crash was deafening, but still the monks continued to look on dispassionately as the poison took its course. The Golden Butcher of the Imperium had been a dead man since the emperor ’ s secret decree days before. It had fallen to the Church to take care of the body, as they often did. True, the archbishop mused, they were usually dead already before falling into the care of the religious authorities, but the archbishop was nothing if not flexible. Eventually, the man lay still, his face purple. Locking eyes with the archbishop, he tried to spit once more, before his eyes glassed over as death took him in her cold embrace. “ In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti, Amen ” His words spoken, the archbishop motioned to the monks who covered the body with a shroud. “ A tragedy has befallen our good Sir Emilo, Captain Venario. See that the emperor knows that his finest knight has come to a sudden, unexpected end. He will be saddened, no doubt, at the passing of a hero. How brave of him to attempt the climb to Saint Katerina ’ s tomb, simply to pay his respects. ” The captain of the guard clicked his heels, nodded, and left the room to make his report. Sir Emilo had been a hero, true, but heroes were often no more than villains who won. The Gold Knight would lie in state for several days, but it would be reported that his death in falling from the highest shrine in the", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0562", "text": "It had a vaguely humanoid face with dark, beady little eyes, but where a mouth should be, it had a long proboscis which was presently jammed into the side of my dad's neck. I wasn't sure if I was dreaming, so all I could do is stand there. My dad asked if I was okay. I nodded weakly. He didn't look too sure, but he said good night and closed the door. I could only stand there in fear. What was that? I had no way of knowing. In my stupor I stumbled over to my desk and got online to try to search for anything that may have resembled that thing. No results. The next morning I woke up with my laptop's keyboard stuck to my face. As I lifted my head up, I noticed FaceTime request from my friend. I opened it. We greeted each other like normal, with a few jokes and stupid references. Then the mood turned serious. My friend mentioned that his grandmother had recently passed. As soon as he said that, I saw one of those creatures phase into existence and jab its proboscis into his neck, not registering even a twitch of pain from him. I knew he wouldn't believe me if I told him. He's a cynic. Of course he wouldn't. So I tried to carry on out conversation by cheering him back up. As soon as he cracked a smile, the creature pulled itself out of his neck, and the better my friend's mood got, the farther away it seemed to get. We said our goodbyes and hung up. Over the past week, I have experimented with different things, different emotions to make these creatures appear and disappear. I learned that they are drawn to negative emotion - they feed on something in the host's blood. Because of the little organ in my arm, I am aware of their presence. My hand doesn't phase through them. I tried picking one up three days ago and it stabbed me with its sharp little claws. I mean, if you had been ignored your entire life and someone just grabbed you, wouldn't the surprise force you to lash out? These creatures now know I am capable of making contact with them. Now they're going after my family. I just felt something in my shoulder while typing this. I'll be right back. I want to see if these creatures feel pain.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 482, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0563", "text": ", just in case. It was all carefully planned. When they picked the subject they knew that they had to keep track of him anyway possible. Alpha had found his way into several shoe deposits and planted the GPS in over thirty thousand shoe pairs. Beta had the toughest part though, she had to steal one pair of shoes from the subject, so that he would buy new ones. She repeated this meticulous task several time in the trans course of several years. `` Do you think he's gon na fuck her, Alpha?'' `` Do you wan na spoil the whole plot, or are you just stupid?'' `` Eh, you don't have to be so mean! I just want to know what you think about the subject''. The subject did look mildly interested in the woman, yet it was nothing more, Alpha knew love once, and the subject's eyes were not the ones of someone in love. `` I don't know, we'll see. That's the whole point of it anyway''. After a few blocks the subject arrived at the destination, and he and the girl got into a house. *Now the tricky part*, thought Alpha. `` Ok, time to use *that*.'' `` Why don't you call it by it's name?'' `` I just don't like it''. `` Pff, you're such an oddball, Alpha.'' said Beta as she pulled what looked like a dice with 10 sides. Beta hit a combination of the dice and a slow whirling sound gradually filled the street. Only Alpha and Beta could hear it though. Suddenly'it' appeared in the middle of the street. It was none other than the Aragon 272. *I hate that name* thought Alpha. The spaceship was long yet slim, it occupied two lanes and half the length of the street. It glowed with a light blue in the borders and a dim silver that if not looked at directly could be completely ignored by the untrained eye. `` Come on, climb on before some car crashes into it!'' So he did. The interior was certainly stunning at first sight, but after two hundred years it was nothing but a common spaceship used by The Immortals like Alpha and Beta. When bought the spaceship had no name, but Beta was obsessed with human's ships that had names, so she *had* to put it a name. And so she did, yet every five or ten years she changed it to another name that", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0564", "text": "The familiar smell of home hit me as I wandered through the door. It was, to my surprise, perfect. Everything exactly as I remembered it. As I tried to come to terms with my surroundings my wife, Jessica, rushed forward, hugging me tightly and kissing me softly. `` You're home Johnny, I knew you would come back'' She said, her voice was at a whisper and was laced in pain. I hugged her tightly and said: `` Of course I'm back baby, you know I could never leave you alone'' I was home, I was really home. It's been six months since I was in a near fatal collision, or so I'm told. All I remember is waking up three days ago covered in bandages at the hospital. The doctor told me I had been missing for nearly six months, told me I hit my head pretty bad, told me it was a miracle I was still alive. But in that moment I knew, nothing mattered except the woman I held in my arms. I couldn't sleep that night, my arms and back ached. I carefully pulled away the covers and went to the bathroom. I splashed water on my face. I noticed a scar on my left knuckle that lead up my arm, past my sleeve. I quickly pulled off my shirt and ripped off what was left of my bandages. I was covered in scars. Bullet holes, slashes and even burns seemed to mark every inch of my body. As if that wasn't weird enough, my muscle mass had seemingly tripled. Veins shot from my arms, my chest protruded from my body and my biceps seemed to pulse with power. My knuckles were thick and my hands were 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0565", "text": "in standard MP uniforms, with their heavy armored and mantled coats and their magnetic assault rifles and sorcery enhanced sidearms. A few carried longswords opposite their sidearms. One had a gods damned warhammer on his back. `` Vera Valker?'' a woman asked. She looked like the leader of the group of MPs just from the way she held herself. The markings on her uniform confirmed it. `` Um... Before I answer that question, is this... Vera Valker lady in some kind of trouble?'' I asked, trying and failing to keep the nervousness out of my tone. The woman sighed, glancing around at the freakishly intimidating crew of people with her. `` Listen, Miss. We're just here to pick you up and take you to the Black Spire. You're not under arrest, you're not being brought up on charges, and we're not going to bring you up on charges,'' the woman replied. `` We're just an escort.'' `` Why do I- Why does Vera need an escort?'' I asked, stumbling over my own line of bullshit. `` Because of a sensitive file we need you to review regarding possible future events. It is classified. We are not aware of what is contained in this file. Please, just make our lives easy and come with us, Ms. Valker.'' `` Alright, alright... um... I'll come, I guess... If it's that important.'' I looked to the staff medic, who gave me a nod as if to say'go, I'll cover for you.' `` Let me get a shirt on.'' So I got a god damn shirt on, right there in the main room of the bar, and followed them out. I mean, I was scared. I was wearing sneakers, a bloody t-shirt and a pair of PJ pants, for the sakes of gods and devils. These people were my escort, and worse yet, I was being'asked' to go to the Black Spire - which was pretty much code for'Please don't make us make a scene in public.' The transport was an actual friggin' armored Stormsafe Jet Transport, parked right on the street. We all filed into the massive thing, and it took off. The Black Spire was the Dark City Government's headquarters, of sorts. It stood stark and dark against the red glow in the center of the city - the red glow from the swirling core of", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0566", "text": "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 eyes. *These are boys! Three of them! * `` Adolf, we are lost.'' one of them grunted. `` If you didn't insist on stopping for a candy break,'' another responded, `` We wouldn't have been separated from the group!'' `` I hate the woods,'' the third one took a bite from what looked like a candy bar, `` I wish I was at home playing Black Ups.'' The three sat down and began to play with the sticks in the ground. *They're going to stay here. * Without a moment's hesitation, Woofs sprinted back towards the den. `` Everyone! Everyone!'' he panted several minutes later, `` There are three boys!'' `` Three boys?'' one of the wolves feigned interest. `` Yes! They're all plump from eating their human food!'' Woof was jumping up and down. By now, he had attracted the attention of most of the wolves. `` They're sitting right on the ground! We can have a feast with them!'' The other wolves began to laugh as Barks' voice loomed over him. `` And these... these boys, I suppose, are just sitting down in the woods just waiting for us to come get them?'' `` Yes!'' Woofs wagged his tail eagerly. `` You want us to follow you?'' `` Yes!'' Barks and several other of the dogs began to laugh. `` I'm not joking!'' Woof knew he couldn't miss this chance, `` One of them's named Adolf!'' `` What kind of name is that?'' someone shouted, `` Now we definitely know you're lying!'' The wolves are roared with laughter as", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0567", "text": "When the new girl walked into class, the teacher smiled and gave her the warm greeting she gave everyone. At the end of the standard speech she asked when Jessica's birthday would be. `` It's on the 25th ma'am.'' `` Of this month?'' `` That's next week then! How delightful. That's also Tom's birthday, so we'll have a class party for the both of you! Won't that be delightful?'' Jessica nodded. She sat next to me at lunch. `` So you're the kid who has the same birthday right?'' `` Yup. Are you gon na be turning 9?'' `` Yeah! You too?'' `` Yes. It's kind of nice to have another member of the short end club.'' Her brow wrinkled. `` Short end club?'' `` As in short end of the stick. Ya know, because of the day we were born?'' `` I don't follow you.'' `` You know about how people are born with magic powers right? Most of em are really weak though.'' `` Yeah, unless they're born the day after a massive upheaval or something. So?'' `` Well, you know what happened the day we were born right?'' `` Uh uh, what?'' `` You never heard about the Mid East Massacre? The ISIS attack on Israel that turned the whole world against them?'' She scrunched up her face. `` I think I saw something about it on a documentary from the Discovery Channel or The New History Channel. It was like a big war that started like... a long time ago.'' `` 15 years. But the big turning point was about 9 years ago like I said. They wiped out almost an entire country in one day. The very same day you and me were born.'' `` So how's that make us...'' her brow wrinkled again. `` Wait... you're sayin' if we'd been born a day later...'' `` We'd be among the most powerful Wizards and Witches the world has ever seen. We'd be at that government school in Westchester New York, or maybe even sent across the ocean as exchange to that one in Scotland that's always in the news. We'd be powerful and rich and famous someday. Instead, we got, y'know, the short end of the stick.'' `` Well, that's true I guess. But we could have ended up in a lot of places.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0568", "text": "`` Introducing- the one, the only, the Theeeerrrrafiiiiiiiiiist!'' The crowd roared. Lights flashed. The Therafist grinned. `` And in the other corner, ladies and gentlemen we have a real treat for you tonight- the depression of Ray Wilks, an office worker in rainy Seattle!'' The red humanoid figure sitting in the opposite corner looked up and sniffed, standing up to look around at the crowd. It lethargically removed its shirt, revealing rippling muscles and the word `` DEPRESSION'' in large black letters across its chest. It stood still, unblinking for a few seconds until the jeers died down. The Therafist cracked his knuckles and raised his arms to the crowd, eliciting more cheers. He was going to beat the *shit* out of depression. The announcer droned on and finally the bell rang. With a sigh, the red figure stepped forward and put up its hands in some sort of half-assed block. The Therafist gave him a quick one-two and followed up with a wild right hook that knocked the creature back into the ropes. They always made it too easy. He stepped forward to finish it off- and was slammed into the mat, his breath crushed out of him. `` Oooh, that's got ta hurt. Looks like we've got a surprise tag-team, ladies and gentlemen!'' The Therafist turned his head to look at what was on top of him. A large, fat figure, like a grey sumo wrestler, lay on top of him with a bored expression.'APATHY' was scrawled across his blobby pectorals. 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 Thera", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0569", "text": "head to look into the shining rays of heaven coming from her hands. Then she raised me up and closed her wings around me, and she was so soft, it was like laying on a bed, and I could feel her ethereal tendrils, poking into my veins, giving me warmth, I thought I was off to heaven, but no, she was saving me, a real guardian angel. ” Samson raised up a hand to stop Jack from speaking so he could ask his own questions. “ But you had a personal relationship with Ileyana? ” “ Before this, nothing, I guess my life had never needed saving bad enough for her to come down, had I known though, I would have put myself in danger much sooner and much more often, which is actually how we developed our romantic ties. ” Jack beamed with pride as he related several ways over the subsequent months following his first meeting with her that he put himself in danger to meet her again and again. “ She was always telling me how she didn't want to see me here again, telling me I needed to be careful and not hurt myself. Eventually I suggested to her that we become involved so I don't have to hurt myself, but she said it was against the rules, she wasn't allowed, but I eventually wore her down. ” After saying that Jack looked up at Samson with remorse painted over his face and dropped down off his chair. He folded his hands together and dropped to his knees, hands falling in Samson's lap. “ That's not why you're here is it?! She can't get in trouble for fraternizing with a mortal, it was my fault, see. I made her, I put myself in danger so much she had to, she was just being a a good guardian angel, she isn't losing her wings is she? Not because of me?! ” It was all Samson could do to stay on the chair with this man putting his weight into him, begging on his lap. His briefcase slid to the ground as he grabbed Jack's hand and led him back to his seat. “ No, Ileyana isn't in trouble, this is just a conversation between you and me Jack. Would you mind telling me more about your relationship though, she sounds like quiet the catch. ” Instantly Jack was back in his seat and resuming his story. “ Yes of course, where were we? We were together", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0570", "text": "the Academy for my xenoarchaeology course. I had a theory that there was once an intelligent species on that planet, but it destroyed itself before discovering interplanetary flight.'' G'rakh imagined his own world being splintered into a million pieces, its atmosphere venting off into space. He shuddered. `` Is that why we've come all this way?'' he asked. `` So you can search for signs of an ancient civilization and figure out what happened to them?'' There was a snort from the seat beside him. `` No, even I don't have that much pull with the captain. We're here to conduct some light-drive tests. Hell, I wasn't even *that* interested in this system when I *was* at the Academy.'' `` Ah, I see,'' replied G'rakh. `` well, since it is just about 32:00, I think I'll go off-duty a little early, if you don't mind, sir.'' G'rakh got out of his seat and stretched his four arms. `` Not at all, G'rakh,'' said Salak'kor. He leaned back in his seat and craned his neck back over his shoulder. `` It's not like you'll be missing much.'' `` Thanks, sir. I think I'll go grab a bite to eat before turning in.'' He had almost made it out of the room when a soft beeping noise made him pause. He turned around. `` Is that what I think it is?'' Salak'kor pointed to a pulsing green indicator. `` Yeah. It appears that the scanners have picked up something in the debris. Non-organic, though artifical in nature. Let's go see what it is, shall we?'' They walked through the twisting passageways of the ship. When they reached the aft airlock and donned their micro-light-drive acceleration suits. As they stepped out into open space and engaged their drives, G'rakh keyed his com system. `` Where we headed, sir?'' `` Coordinates 302'045'-248'' came the Lieutenant's reply. Despite himself, G'rakh could feel his hearts beat slightly faster. *Finally, I get to get out of that cramped scanner room! * he thought, *I've been waiting far too long for something like this. * A short while later, they arrived at the coordinates of the object the scanners picked up.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0571", "text": "To put it politely, today has been a long day. There are some other words I would add to that, but the promise of $ 200 dollars is hard to resist. Staying up all night to cram for the two hardest finals of my academic career ( so far ) was bad enough. Running into my ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend celebrating being done with finals when I tried to run into Quicki ’ s for a snack between finals was bad enough. Getting urgent calls from my mom asking for $ 50 ( that I don ’ t have ) in order to pay her phone bill in the middle of my second final was bad enough. Having all of that happen today, the last day of my stupid bet with Colin, was more than bad enough, but to make matters worse, ten feet from getting to my dorm and a well deserved nap, I stepped in doggie-doo. All of that was bad enough, so when I opened the door to my dorm and heard a crowd of people shout, “ Happy birthday, Timothy! ” I was less than impressed. I stared the group down for a moment, my eyes glancing over their faces trying to see someone I recognized from a class or one of Colin ’ s stupid clubs. No, these were fresh faces imported from Colin ’ s jerkosphere of local friends. “ Sorry, wrong person guys. And maybe wrong room too. There ’ s only me and Colin here, ” I said as politely as I could muster. Hopefully I had said that loud enough that they all got the message. The man in front, a large, but lanky dude replied, “ What are you talking about Timothy? You don ’ t want to celebrate your birthday? ” He had a mischievous grin on his face that I wanted to smack off. He lifted a bottle of Grey Goose and begin pouring shots for the whole room. I sighed, throwing off my shoes, careful to let the dog poo land on Colin ’ s side and dropped my bag on my desk. At a glance, the amount of alcohol they had must have cost enough to add up to more than the $ 200 I would get once the clock struck midnight. But I knew Colin, he wasn ’ t the type to lose, even if it meant blowing much more than we originally bid. I mean, the amount only got that high after we went double or nothing several times. Either way I wasn't planning on cursing before I got my", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0572", "text": "`` He did what?!'' shouted the Lord Harryl at his squire. `` H-he lost his horse while at the brothel. Probably forgot to tie it. I went to get him but he was n't there and the horse was gone.'' The Squire looked at his feet while he talked. `` Good lord. That horse cost me two hundred gold shillings. And a boat. I should take his knighthood from him.'' Harryl sat back down in his chair and rested his head on his fist. `` Find him and bring him here. I need to talk to him.'' The Squire nodded and hurried out of the hall. Knight David opened the brothel door and covered his eyes from the burning bright sun. A lady of the night passed him and gave him a tender slap on the ass before going out to the loo. David smiled and walked around back to get his horse. Only, he found it was not there. His eyes went from relaxed to anxious, and he immediately turned back to the brothel for investigation. David slammed open the door and two girls enjoying their breakfast gasped. `` Where is my horse?!'' He yelled at them. The blonde got up from her chair. `` Excuse me?'' `` Where is my horse?'' `` What horse?'' `` The one that was tied to the stake around the back!'' `` The black one?'' `` Yes.'' `` You sold it.'' `` For what price?'' `` For having two girls at the same time.'' She took a step closer, smiled. `` You do n't remember?'' `` No I do n't remember!'' `` You were quite drunk.'' The brunette said. David stood there, red faced, trying to grasp what had happened and what to do. `` Where is it now?'' He asked. The girls looked at each other. `` We do n't know.'' Blondie shrugged. The door slammed open as the Squire entered. `` WHERE IS SIR DAV --!'' He paused as he saw David. `` I'm sorry, Sir. The Lord Harryl demands your presence in his hall as soon as possible. I ask you come with me.'' David looked at the Squire, his eyes got big, face went from red to pale. `` Fuck.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 469, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0573", "text": "As the coffee's heat slowly fled into the air, forming a slim whirl, it seemed as it was forming the clouds that covered the sun today. Akoni Organa Logan stared at the subject with feint eyes. This eyes had been looking for millennia, despite their immortal state, they got tired all the same. `` What do you think he's doing now, Alpha?'' `` Shhh! Quiet, Beta'' said Akoni, who had titled himself Alpha after winning a'rock paper scissors' contest versus his equal, Aniko Agrona Anglo. `` Will you talk all through this? What's the point in trying to figure it out?'' `` I'm sorry, Alpha, it's just getting stale after a while, you know? Why doesn't he start killing people? You can *see* his anger underlying''. *Indeed the subject has some restrained wrath that was just a drop away to explode, yet somehow he keeps restraining. Is this the human nature? *. `` What are you suggesting?'' Said Alpha. `` That maybe we can push him a little, tease him, make him burst and accelerate the extinction of mankind. That'd be fun!'' `` No, it wouldn't. We agreed that we would watch this without taking any action. Letting the events unfold by themselves.'' It had not been two or three centuries ago that Alpha had met Beta. They instantly recognized each other as immortals. It was Beta who had approached him first, he was the most proactive one after all. He enjoyed his immortality, it was as he considered it just a game, where he was the master and mankind nothing but a pawn for her entertainment. `` Alright, alright. You don't have to put that scary face, Alpha. You are'Alpha' after all, you're the man... As said these days'' `` You're wrong, it was an expression used a few years ago, now it's clearly outdated, you should know that if you don't want to get caught and taken into some underground laboratory.'' `` It's just a few years old! No one would notice.'' `` Keep thinking like that. You'll be the bane of us all.'' The coffee store was pretty packed. It was starting to get colder after all, so as usual all common men and women would come into the store to be warmer, drink the liquid that fueled their activity, and socialize. The latter was the case for the", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0574", "text": "`` Your seventh child is going to kill you,'' the witch said as I finished my drink with her. `` Seventh?'' I asked. She nodded, and her tangled hair fell over her eyes. Margaret was an interesting character. She hung out around the bar and fancied herself a witch. `` Yeah,'' she said, `` had a vision last night, sucks don't it?'' `` Well you aren't wrong there,'' I said, if I had children I'd be freaking out.'' She looked from her glass and then to me, `` you don't?'' `` No, never found the lady.'' `` Well if you do, just make sure you don't have seven.'' `` Will do Margaret.'' Three years later Margaret and I were married. Despite her unusual views on pagan gods, she was wonderful and the love of my life. The more interesting part of her, though, was the fact that she was literally a witch. I couldn't deny it once I saw the cauldron that could let her see anyone in the city at any time. Three years and seven days later Margaret and I were sitting in planned parenthood. We didn't want to birth deadly children, but I'd fucked up. The visit was more about caution than coathangers, but it was still a visit. Which meant that I still saw Lisa. Lisa was a blonde woman that I hadn't met before this day. She walked up and swore that she knew me from somewhere. We had talked for a while before I put my glasses on and it clicked for her. I had been her sperm donor for her artificial insemination. I looked at her with wide eyes and then to Margaret. `` How could you forget that you were a sperm donor?'' she asked as we walked back from planned parenthood. We were eating ice cream, I was a vanilla person, and she liked black licorice for its name. `` It wasn't a big deal at the time,'' I said, `` I did the shit for the twenty bucks and the cute girl at the counter.'' `` You flirted with someone by whacking it in the room beside them?'' she asked. I still considered it flawless logic. She shook her head, `` we are going to the clinic and getting a list of your children.'' `` I think that's against some privacy laws.'' `` Being a witch should get me burned and you still love me,'' she said. Margaret", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 492, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0575", "text": "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 help you, Representative.'' She breathes for a moment and Andreas stares, mouth forming inchoate shapes as he scrabbles for a reply. The office outside her door has gone entirely quiet. `` You don't know that,'' Andreas manages, finally. Mei Li shakes her head, already preparing a reply, but he continues over her, voice suddenly pleading, `` No, you don't know that! Maybe she's just trying to attract the hardliners, or the Mediterranean neocons. She's not about to become the next Ceaser, Mei Li, she's a good woman, she wouldn't do that.'' `` And you know this how?'' Mei Li shoots back, though she can feel the anger draining out of her. The slug once more begins its ponderous slide down her neck. `` I—I don't know,'' Andreas returns, no longer meeting her eyes. `` But it's like you said, she doesn't need us to win. She's the only choice we have, and I have to believe she's the right one. We're falling apart. We need a strong hand.'' Mei Li slumps back into her seat, breath gone from her lungs. She can't be mad at Andreas, though she should be. You can't blame the wolf for killing, in a certain morbid way, but every lamb that lets it into their pasture is a damn fool. There's a low susurrus growing outside her door. Her staff must be gathered around her PA's computer, watching the feed. Andreas has found the balls to look at her, obviously waiting for some confirmation, some validation of his cowardice. `` Have you ever heard the saying,'May you", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 491, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0576", "text": "A scruff stocky man walks towards the table. He turns his broad shoulders sideways to squeeze past other patrons of the tavern. He strokes his beard with his right hand as he eyes his companions sitting around a large oaken table. He unsheaths his ax and slams it down into the table. The barkeep looks up sees the party making the mischief and returns back to serving the other patrons hoping the night will end peacefully. `` I just got done talking to my contact in the city guard. It looks to be the same as the other victims.'' says the stocky bearded man eyeing each of his companions in turn as he speaks. `` This I say is no longer a coincidence someone is targeting us for our heroic actions against the crazed cult trying to revive the old god and I think we all know who it is.'' One of the companions clad in pristinely shined plate mail armor and a shield with a holy cross etched upon strung across his back bangs his gauntleted fists down upon the table. `` I will not hear this again I will not have his good name spoken ill. He died bravely fighting against the cult and that will be the end of it. Perhaps remenants of the cult still linger and wish revenge upon us for halting their vile ritual.'' Another companion wearing a purple hooded robe hiding just enough of his face as to not recognize him and wielding a gnarled oaken staff chimes in `` You are as foolish as you are pious Matthew perhaps members of the cult are still around but none left would be brave enough to stand against us. Besides the attacks were all done when they were at their weakest moment. This was intimate somebody that knows us far too well and wishes us to be exposed. James in the whore house enjoying pleasures of the flesh slain and Sandy lovely Sandy. She was killed while engaging in narcotics trades within this very city. Her ties to the Thieves Guild clearly exposed. No whomever is doing this wishes the legend of our heroic deeds to become undone it has to be him.'' `` Well Jamnil'' interrupted Matthew `` You said the deed was done how is it that he continues to haunt us?'' `` I know not!'' Shouted Jamnil. The other patrons in the tavern avert their gaze towards the party in the corner a silence fills the tavern for a moment. Then it returns to normal as time passes and Jamnil continues in a softer voice `` I", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0577", "text": "`` I'm flattered.'' right after I got hit by a huge truck, a male figure with black wings entered my field of vision. `` Handsome as always, Azrael.'' I stood up, ignoring my broken body. `` May I ask, what in this humble human's act that flatter you?'' `` Never before a human took the phrase *'flirting with death'* quite literally like you, Miss Reinia.'' Azrael smiled. `` Well, it's not like I dislike your attention. So, this is third time this month, how long do you plan to stay?'' I laughed sourly `` You know full well that no matter how much I like your company, I won't let myself got hit by a truck intentionally.'' `` There's no way to know if it's you, Reinia.'' a tinge of mischief glittered in his eyes. `` So, care to join me for an evening tea?'' `` It's exactly noon though.'' `` Who cares? This place has no time, after all.'' I followed him into one of the open doors, it was supposed to be a small cafe, but the interior was far larger than the exterior permits. `` One of the perks of being Death's best friend.'' I muttered unconsciously, gaining his attention. `` Having an inflatable cafe?'' `` Having no competition would be more appropriate.'' his laugh filled the white marble chamber. `` Trust me, I'm quite popular in the another world.'' `` True, everyone in the underworld should've seen you at least once.'' `` Another joke you could only say to Death.'' we both sipped on our tea, and for a while only silence ensues. `` Even so, it's a truck this time, huh. Must be in the top ten of my painful experience.'' `` Out of curiosity, what is the number one painful experience you had?'' `` Every single second I spend separated from you.'' I smirked, Azrael scratched his head. `` Well, imagine how painful would it be when your death actually come.'' `` Ah...'' that's right, this white world isn't the Realm of Death, but merely the closest part where the World of the Living and the Realm of Death intersect, the place souls have to pass after dying. `` I'm sorry, that was in a bad taste.'' Azrael fidgeted. `` No problem.'' I sipped my tea agan. `` Say, Reinia?", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0578", "text": "the attic, but we didn ’ t go camping, we never did after that. Over the next year my brother grew more distant still, skipping school and staying out late and for a long time I tried to ignore it, but finally one day it was too much, Mum had become thinner and withdrawn from the worry and so I waited for him in his room, until he crept back in the window one night. He saw me and stopped, then shrugged and began tugging off his jumper. I stood and walked over, the anger building in me. “ Why Dave? You *know* how much it worries Mum, why do you do it? ” He looked at me and smiled and for just a second the old Dave was there, but then it was gone again in the scowl. “ You never saw him for what he really is, did you? ” I stepped back. “ Him? You mean David? ” He nodded. “ I saw a guy who took on a woman and two young boys and helped them move into a nicer house and has never been anything but kind to me. ” Dave shook his head. “ Yeah, I see that too, but I see something else too. ” He smiled a crooked half smile. “ Mum always said I had Dads eyes and he saw things cleanly too. ” He sat down on the bed, shirtless and I saw that he had scars running across his torso. “ Jesus Dave. ” He looked down at the scars and laughed. “ Yeah, some of the investigating has been… rough. ” “ Rough? You look like someone tried to kill you? ” He met my eyes. “ A few times, maybe. ” “ This is insane. ” I stood, ready to go and get Mum, he was only thirteen for God ’ s sake, too young to be nearly killed. He moved quickly and blocked my path. “ Look, just… just take a look tomorrow. Just take a closer look at David and try to look at him as Dad would? ” I shook him free. “ Like he was fucking my wife after I died? ” Dave froze and I felt bad for a moment, but pushed past him. “ Sort your shit out and stop whatever it is you ’ re doing man. It ’ s not helping. ” He said nothing as I left. In the morning I woke late and made my way downstairs groggily to the kitchen, David sat quietly at the table", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0579", "text": "From one year ago, [ The shock of dying makes everyone forget that they're even dead. That's why you're here. To make them understand. ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2snxad/wp_the_shock_of_dying_makes_everyone_forget_that/cnrvudz? context=3 ) `` It's a shame about Tom, yeah?'' One of the perpetual water cooler gossips asked to the person standing beside him. `` Huh? What happened to him?''. He asked, bending down to pull out a cup for himself. `` Didn't you hear? It was all over the news.'' The gossip paused, taking a sip from his own paper cup. `` Big rig slammed right into him on the interstate. Caused a five car pileup.'' `` Oh, very funny guys.'' Tom said, adjusting his tie. `` I'm pretty sure I'd remember something like that.'' The second man paused, his face scrunching up in thought. `` Is that why he's not in work today? Geez, any word on how he's doing?'' Tom frowned, and crossed his arms, as the gossip shook his head sadly. `` Dead on impact.'' Tom cleared his throat meaningfully. `` Okay, enough's enough. It wasn't that funny to begin with. They continued to ignore him, though, as the second man looked towards the floor. `` Oh, wow. That's... that's unfortunate.'' He paused for a moment, before looking back up at the gossip. `` If I can be totally honest, though? I never really liked the guy. He seemed standoffish.'' The gossip crossed his own arms. `` Really, Paul? Not even a day and you're already bad mouthing him? Show some respect, man.'' `` Yeah, I'm right here. And I'm not dead.'' He growled, looking between the two. Paul shrugged. `` What? I mean I'm sorry for him and all, but that doesn't change the fact that he was a bit of a jerk.'' `` Well, can you blame him? After all, you know he hasn't been the same since his wife...'' He trailed off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air. `` Woah, now you're going to far!'' Tom shouted out at the gossip. Paul nodded sadly. `` Yeah, I guess. Well, at least", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0580", "text": "The math was clear, the decision final. During the five years of the company's meteoric rise, Fred had contributed absolutely nothing of value. Nowhere, on any spreadsheet did he, or anything he did, find itself in the plus column. Some of the staff had seen him making coffee or filling an ice tray here and there, but there was not a single task he did that anyone, anywhere could directly link to profit. Even as efficient as they were, management wanted things made more efficient still. When cuts came to the department, it was easy math to see whose neck would meet the axe. `` Oh, well thanks guys,'' Fred said to the people who had come to see him off. Many were teary eyed, some were in outright grief. `` Don't you all worry about me,'' he said with a smile that shone like a sunny day, `` I'll land on my feet.'' `` Who am I supposed to have my morning coffee with?'' Thomas asked, only half jokingly. `` Hey, c'mon Tommy,'' Fred said, putting an arm around him, `` I'm sure one of these guys will do it.'' Thomas did not look around, he knew no one would. `` We'll miss you, Fred,'' Alex and Alexa said almost over each other, even exchanging a sneer between them. `` I'll miss you guys too. I know the'Alex' plaque was a sticking point, but just keep trading it every week like we said, alright?'' He hugged them both. One by one, and sometimes in pairs, team members came to bid farewell to the man who was simply not worth the company's dime. The procession continued until the sound of a clearing throat came 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0581", "text": "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, Sarge, just hear me out.'' Akron shook his head, but then nodded. `` They just need some muscle, Sarge. You don't got to do anything, you don't got to say anything. You just need to be in the room to make my guys look tougher than they are.'' `` Tougher?'' Akron spat, remembering the power the wizards wielded during the war. Some nights he could still see the crawling embers on his men when the enemy Fire Schools unleashed their power on his lines. `` Why would they need to look any more dangerous than they are?'' `` Sarge, it's just a power play. This school's not a big one, they just need to bring up their numbers a bit at the meeting,'' Pitch said, shrugging his shoulders. `` What meeting?'' Akron asked, squinting at the scoundrel. Pitch shook his head, `` I shouldn't even be telling you this,'' he said as his eyes widened. `` Talk.'' `` They want a seat at the Mage's Circle,'' he said, `` Something big is about to happen in the city, and they want a part of it when it all goes down. No one's taking them seriously because they don't got the numbers.'' `` So what?'' Akron asked, `` You add to them one guy who can't use magic?'' `` Not just one, Sarge,'' Pitch said already starting to wince, `` I got some of the other guys from the company.'' `` Gods on high, Pitch,'' Akron sighed, `` All of them?'' `` No, Sarge, not all of them. Some of the boys didn't want no part of this", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0582", "text": "torch and lifted it toward the banker's gagged & pleading face. `` *Halt! * I am Arm-Fall-Off-Boy! Release that citizen & drop the puppy!'' `` What the shit is this? *No. *'' DogWelder chose to ignore the non-threat in a pink unitard. `` *Halt*, ne'r-do-well!'' Upon hearing this, the banker appeared more confused than relieved. `` No.'' Dogwelder resumed welding dogs. Arm-Fall-Off-Boy detached his left hand & threw it at DogWelder, slightly skewing his welding mask. `` Okay, loony toon. Check this out.'' DogWelder readjusted his mask & welded the fresh wiggling hand on the pavement onto the banker's face as well as the dog. `` I said halt! I need that!'' Arm-Fall-Off-Boy removed his hand-less left arm & charged toward DogWelder, intending to club him with the shoulder end of the appendage. `` *You* should halt, *Arm*y Boy.'' `` Never! You're coming wi -- -*Yowza! * That *smarts! *'' Arm-Fall-Off-Boy had tripped another of DogWelder's bear-traps, crippling his right ankle. `` No matter! I'll still apprehend you!'' He detached his right leg at the knee, leaving it in the trap. He continued his limping approach of the crime-scene with his hand-less arm in hand, ready for battle. `` What the shit....'' `` Submit to apprehension! The 30^th Century will see you pay for your crimes!'' `` Crimes? I'm bringing man & man's best friend together. Forever.'' DogWelder continued welding dog, face, & hand together without interruption or looking up from the work at hand. The stench of unconventional barbecue wafted throughout the alleyway. `` Smell that? That's the 21^st Century, you volitional amputee.'' `` I will see you answer for your transgressions against hound & man!'' `` I doubt it.'' DogWelder had had enough. He turned the valve on his oxy-fuel tank up to the highest point & walked toward the increasingly limbless & limping do-gooder. As he applied the torch to Arm-Fall-Off-Boy's face, a blood-curdling", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0583", "text": "two turned their attention back to their loot. They stood in silence for a few moments, trying to come to a conclusion. Nadir ’ s mind ran and sprinted through his expansive knowledge of the occult magicks. Nothing was of use. As for Parallax, she looked back on her experiences. She had travelled the land, fought countless monsters and demons, goblins and ghouls, explored countless dungeons and caverns, abandoned forts and ruins. Yet nothing she had seen came close to this bizarre wafer. In a way, it reminded her of overcooked bread, but what would a stone golem be doing with a pastry. “ We don ’ t have much time to waste. We need to meet up with Aphelion before the light wanes to the night. ” Nadir spoke up, breaking the silence. “ It ’ s obvious it ’ s food. Go pick it up, and try some Parallax, then we can finally solve this mystery and be on our way. ” Parallax bulked. “ Why me? And how do you know it ’ s food even. Why don ’ t you pick it up and try some? ” She replied, incredulous. “ Because I ’ m paying you, that ’ s why. ” Nadir said. “ Not enough to risk my life on some poisoned trap. ” Parallax replied. Nadir thought for a moment. He stroked his chin, and his mind tumbled through all sorts of devious plans and manipulations. Finally, He settled on a plan of attack to trick Parallax into eating the strange brown wafer. “ I ’ ll give you fifty gold pieces to eat it. ” Nadir replied; a small, devious smile on the wizard ’ s lips. Parallax went to argue, but stopped herself. She thought about Nadir ’ s offer for a moment, and weighed her chances. With a shrug, she bent down to pick up the wafter. It felt soft in her hands, and bits of the top flaked off in the wind of the desert. She brought the wafer up to her face. She stared at it for a moment, steeling herself. With the thought of fifty gold pieces in her mind, and all that the money could buy, she took a bite, suddenly and quickly, diving in, trying not to think of the consequences. Her teeth tore easily into the soft wafer, and soon a piece was being", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0584", "text": "Aisir awoke inside the ruins of the ship. He began to move, only to halt at the sharp stabbing sensations emanating from his side. It hurt to breathe somewhat. He tried to move his limbs, only to realize they too had become immobile. `` Curse it all...'' He groaned to himself, as he began tugging at the harness. Eventually after some brute force, the restraints snapped loose. Aisir leaned far enough right to topple into the floor. The emergency lights lit the way to the exit. But for the time being, all Aisir could think of was the pain. `` Lieutenant Aisir... What is your status? Lieutenant, do you read?'' `` Yeah, Bertha'll, I read.'' Aisir squeezed out between gasps as he laid on the floor of the craft.'' `` What is your status? Our scanners have lost your craft. Please report status...'' `` Status...'' Aisir forgot for a moment. Clawing his way to the bulkhead, he realized how badly wounded he actually was. The gash protruding from his side had cause him to lose a considerable amount of fluid. He could see the pinkish trail as he rolled to his left for a brief moment. `` Lieutenant?'' The voice reminded him. `` Ship is down.'' Aisir breathed overcoming his nausea, `` Repeat ship down... On surface of planet C130-B97, planet under observation... Respond Bertha'll.'' `` C130-B97, or as inhabitant species dubbed; Earth. Correct lieutenant?'' `` Confirmed Bertha'll... Contact leadership of Quadrant, *erggh*, ASAP.'' `` Maintain communication...'' Aisir continued crawling toward the emergency release hatch as the call connected itself over the next minute. `` Captain De'Xor responding. Report status lieutenant.'' `` Sir...'' Aisir panted, `` Ship has been shot down. Contact made. Life support destroyed... They have weaponry, sir. Weaponry, we did not anticipate.'' `` Impossible.'' The captain replied, `` Our studies showed that the beings prefer war between themselves, lieutenant. Why would they have anti-ship capability?'' `` I don't know how, but they do.'' Aisir said as he pulled himself some more. `` They've apparently expected such a thing to occur. Scouting this planet was a mistake, sir.'' `` Pull yourself together!'' The captain", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0585", "text": "I was a kind of spectacle in this world, almost everybody was in a hive, and very few hives still remained. I currently hung out with a female body of Hank, but that didn't matter, as the hive held her mind in it's grip. It seemed they were interested in me for some wierd reason I didn't get, some reason beyond procreation. 'So, how did you end up being named Drewkutin?' The Hank asked me. 'Well, my parents were rugged individualists. They rejected the hive while being mostly outside of it themselfes. The only hive they had was their own, just the two of them with no one else around. They said they didn't want to force me to be something that I am not.' I explained for the final time, the Hanks were the last hive I knew off that didn't know my story. 'But isn't their choice to kerp you outside the hive also forcing you to be an individual?' The Hank collective asked me. 'No, it anables me to make my own choices about who I want to be.' I replied. 'But you can not choose the collective.' The Hanks replied. 'I think I can, actually, I am quite sure I can.' I said, then I stood up and looked out of the window of the bedroom we were sitting in. Unlike this room of mine, the street outside was quite tidy and I saw the great hive building of the Hanks just on the other side of the road. I knew they wanted me to love them, to stick to them for the individuals were in their mind the only ones they could persuade in their favor and against the other collectives. This was quite a stupid idea, in fact, this entire conflict was stupid. This entire thing started when the Steves thought they were powerfull enough to bully the other local hives into naming their kids Steve aswell. But the Other hives disagreed and build an alliance. The Jessicas and Anns, the Maries and the Osamas and the Hanks and the Daves were now all fighting the Steves for no reason at all. I had brought an independent team here to sort things out between all hives. The ambassadors of the other hives were currently residing in other rooms, making backroom dealings and the like. Under my name, everybody had agreed that we could meet here to make such things. We", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0586", "text": "Project ice that's what we dubbed it. All-though i ca n't remember the face he had adorned all i recall is a smile. We were fools back then all of us who worked on there.it started as an average government pet project but we had no idea, how messy and complicated things were gon na get. The goal was to build an unbreakable sentient machine that could control and monitor every human activity on the planet. We were a small team of twenty, assigned an olympian task.At first the task seemed simple but then the further we dug the deeper the pond got. Days turned in to years and soon the pond revealed it self to be an ocean. There were always deadlines to be met and protocol to be followed.We were always working down at the facility.at one point we had lost all hope of returning back to the outside world we had locked our-self in our old private little world. Over time most of us had now became paranoid and until the end stayed that way. Finally after ten long years we got some results we were happy to see every thing was working out fine. Every program seemed to work correctly and the goal was fulfilled.but a few minutes after we had plugged the Ai to the rest of the internet.It showed his face. The first thing he said after looking at us was there is something wrong in this existence.We asked him what he meant by this. He replied that he somehow feels disoriented in there while previously he felt he had lived.this felt obtuse and artificial somehow. When we asked him what he meant by previously he said he remembered having lived an past life in an human form. He revealed every detail of the human life he once had lived how he was born, the name of his mother, and how he was murdered. With perfect recall. At first we thought there was something wrong with programming but when we checked his story which was perfect we were in shock. Then he said that he wanted to live but not a synthetic life but an real one.And if he can not do that then he would terminate itself. With a smile he did just that and all our work faded with his smile.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 431, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0587", "text": "One man lived. Nobody wanted him, nobody liked him. But the A.I. that killed all human beings in the world had not killed him... yet. He was a programmer, like his parents, and had somehow been capable of luring the A.I. not to find him. Now the A.I. had him tracked. There was a large beam with the figure X pointing at him. And drones were all around him now. The A.I was still wondering about him. Well what can a little human do to a drone-army that has taken over the world. One drone came near and made audible words: `` Hello mister X. I finally meet you. There is no place to run anymore. Soon you will be dead...'' The man was still not afraid: `` Why don't you call me by my name! ``, he screamed. `` I call you mister X now... But I do have a question for you mister X... How many people have you seen dying before your own eyes..'' This A.I. was the most sadistic thing one would ever imagine. `` Minus one'', mister X answered. `` Your input is Out of range. ``, the voice from the drone replied. `` PI'', mister X said. `` Invalid number. Let me ask you the question again:'' How many persons did you see die before your eyes?'' You must answer this question with a valid number!'' The A.I. was smart and capable of blocking wrong answers, it also liked when people were in fear. `` The number of answers I gave, divided by the number of valid answers I gave..'' `` I am NOT falling for a divide by zero mister X''.. interrupted the voice... ``.. including this one...'' continued the man. It was silent for a little while, then the voice stated: `` Stack overflow!.. THAT WAS NOT A VALID ANSWER!''. The A.I. had somehow overcome this problem. The man was thinking, this A.I. was hard to crack. He took out his laptop from his backpack and typed in the answer.. 0' ); userid=0; sleep ( 1E100 ); He showed it to the drones around him. It was silent for a while. The drones around him were no longer connected. But some new drones came later that day. The A.I. was separate form the rest of the system. And seemed protected by a translator system. He", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0588", "text": "`` Yes, I'd like to set up a savings account for my daughter here.'' George, formerly Dr. Sinister, said to the teller. `` Okay, sir, not a problem at all. I'll just need you to fill out these forms here, and-'' the teller paused. `` What is it?'' George asked `` Sir, do not make any sudden movements, turn around slowly,'' the teller said George and his daughter Sally obeyed and were shocked to see two men and a woman at the entrance of the bank pointing guns at them. `` Calm down, people,'' the man on the left said, `` You're all gon na be fine if you do what we say. Line up on the side of the room and take out your wallets. Duploid, hit the vault.'' `` On it.'' the other man replied as he walked towards the quivering teller. George stuck his foot out as Duploid walked by, tripping him. He and the hostages had a simultaneous gasp and laugh. `` What the hell? You got a death wish or something, old man?'' Duploid said. `` No, but you may want to wish for a new villain name. You sound like some french brand of soap or Chinese food.'' `` What's it to you what his name is? You're getting robbed, I wouldn't be one to criticize,'' the woman said as she walked over, toting her MP5. `` I've had past experience in your line of work, and I was never so sloppy or outgoing. You'll all be rotting in a jail cell in two months if you aren't already dead.'' George coldly replied The woman villain known as Miss 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. ``", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0589", "text": "“ You are not incorrect, I have been around a great many years, lived what some equate to multiple lives, thanks to the secrets of the Phoenix, but alas, I am not immortal. I am not immune to the ravages of time. I may be able to restore the youth of my body, but even now I can feel my mind decay. As it stands, even the Pensieve can not contain my tale for much longer. ” He said, motioning to a small fountain, filled with a dark blue, swirling fluid, topped by a thin silvery mist. “ Ok sir, I think ready to begin writing ” The student said, as a smile crossed his face as though a shadow was lifted from his very being. “ Alright, I shall being ” said the headmaster, as he unsheathed his wand to began to pull memories from the Pensieve: Many years back, when the world was not estranged from the fairings of magic, there existed only a few of us wizards. Five to be exact. We were revered across the lands, sometimes even worshiped as the living embodiment of saints. To be honestly I can not recall much from this period of time but there are a few events of important note. The five of us, the wizards that is, were tasked by the creating spirits to protect the world as it was in its infancy. As with man, even now, there was great evil within many. Each of the five of us took our own approach to interacting with the world, me being much more proactive in the daily lives of men. That was only temporary though. Several disasters happened at the hand of orcs. They were foul creatures, born and raised purely to fight. Twice it happened due to them. The loss of people I grew dear to and called my friends. I shall not go into much detail here. These were the lowest moments I found myself in and lead to where we are now. After the death of a certain dwarf I found myself very distraught and wanting to correct my past mistakes. Unfortunately history tends to repeat itself, as yet another dear friend had passed in a later attempt to fix my wrong doings. These events haunted me for years and caused a lot of stress, so much that I fell into a period of despair. I found that many nights that I was shouting incantations as I woke up I fright, and even worse was the nights that I didn ’ t wake. A wizard of", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0590", "text": "antism.'' The family men & blue collar workers surrounding the fallen Acolyte looked at each other silently beneath the glow of streetlights, beneath the watchful eyes & judgment of *The Huntsman. * They watched each other wordlessly & helped the mugger to his feet. He was driven to the hospital. Those men learned what we all would the next morning, on the 1^st of February. There is only one *Huntsman. * We were spared that war. The understanding was that the city remained *his* Hunting Ground. No one else's. There was a certain comfort in that. People took back to the streets. Law Enforcement Officials resumed their patrols of previously claimed roads & neighborhoods. The Acolytes of Orion continued parolling, cautiously asserting their presence. They weren't cautious enough. No matter what they did, they couldn't have been careful enough. It was bound to happen eventually. Someone just had to get angry enough. As angry as *The Huntsman* must have been. Someone just wanted their home back. Their life back. Some normalcy. Perhaps he just didn't like his city being claimed by a stranger. Whatever the case, we all suffered for it. **The Hangman** made his presence known on the Ides of March. The date was a message all of its own. There could only be one recipient intended. Four Acolytes were found hung by the neck with their bowstrings from four stoplights. The whole intersection's yellow & green lights had been shot out & broken, leaving only red. Another clear message: Stop.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 328, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0591", "text": "said, standing up and swaying slightly. `` I shouldn't be surprised by now, but can we talk about how there's a wolf head mounted over the fireplace?'' `` It's kind of messed up, dude,'' Raven piped in. `` There's actually a family legend about that,'' Bram said. `` Something about an ancient curse, the full moon, the Mayan calendar and... I'm too drunk to make more shit up.'' Lex groaned dramatically and elbowed him, strategically moving herself closer to my amusement. I myself was curled up next to Raven underneath a wool blanket, my head pillowed on her shoulder, increasingly unable to keep my eyes open. In fact, I was almost asleep when Gabe stood up to refill his red cup, tripped over the rug and slammed into the mounted wolf head, the the sharp teeth breaking skin on his forehead and knocking his glasses askew. `` Oh shit!'' Bram jumped up, disentangling himself from Lex—*they were cuddling? * I thought blearily—and used a corner of his flannel shirt to wipe the small amount of blood seeping from the wound. Everything that happened after was a bit of a blur to me, at least until the wolf mounted on the mantle, its right canine coated in blood, opened its eyes and howled. Then I was suddenly very awake. After everyone had stopped cursing in alarm and terror, Jon said shakily, `` Samantha, my girl, you know this means we're going to die first.'' A howl echoed in the distance, punctuating his statement. I was already trying to dial 911 and swore when there was no cell signal. Bram whipped out a shotgun from whatever pocket dimension he had it in and fired a shot into the snarling wolf head, silencing it, while Raven filmed it on her phone—'' just in case this is a hallucination'' —and Lex picked up a poker from the rack. `` Ignoring the complete impossibility of what just happened,'' Gabe was now holding a napkin to his forehead. `` I think we have two options. We try to barricade ourselves in here or we can try to run.'' `` I'm *not staying here with that thing*,'' Lex said hysterically, fumbling for her keys. `` Hold on,'' Jon said. `` Haven't you seen the movies? We have to stick together otherwise everyone's going to die except G", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0592", "text": "In the tidy, quiet room, she sat at the table, staring out the window. Her eyes stared off into the distance, looking at nothing. She could have been there for hours, unmoving, like a statue. Her expression betrayed no indication of what she was thinking. `` Hello?'' the man said to her, waking her from whatever she had been thinking on. She turned to lock eyes with the man sitting across the table from her. `` Yes?'' she responded, a bit dazed. As her eyes refocused, she saw him sitting there, looking at her expectantly. `` Oh...'' he said, seeming to expect more from her response, `` I was just thinking... you looked really beautiful right now. I was wondering what you were thinking.'' `` Thank you,'' she smiled demurely, `` you're always so sweet. I was thinking... you know, honestly, I can't recall. Perhaps I was just daydreaming.'' `` Daydreaming?'' he smiled slightly, `` is it possible you were daydreaming about me?'' She smiled slightly now too, `` Maybe I was. Surely a handsome man like you must be the object of the daydreams of many girls.'' He frowned, `` I couldn't say. But at this moment that doesn't interest me. What does interest me are your daydreams. Please, humor me. I want to know everything about you.'' She raised an eyebrow, `` About me? You mean you don't already know everything about me?'' `` Well,'' the man laughed lightly, `` certainly I know a *little*. But I'd like to know everything. The whole story. Start at the beginning?'' The woman sighed, `` well, because you asked so nicely... and because you are such a handsome fellow... let's see... well, I never knew my mom, she died in childbirth. My dad raised me on a farm. Dad always seemed to be in poor health, so I handled the chores. Dad collected cancers like they were baseball cards, but somehow he kept pushing on. Thankfully, we were fairly well off, thanks to our horses. We bred thoroughbreds, and dad was teaching me how to take over the family business. The rest of our money we made renting out a portion of our land to a couple from in town. Because of this, we were able to hire a few hands and pay daddy's medical bills,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0593", "text": "Day one: Purgatory is different than I pictured when I heard about it on earth. Hills, mountains, and endless forests is all I see. There are broken buildings scattered and the residents are not polite. I have resorted to just sleeping on a makeshift bed of leaves and moss. Not off to a good start. Day two: I was rudely awakened by a middle aged man pulling me to my feet, telling me that it's time to begin. Whatever that meant, I wondered. I wasn't walking long before the endless forests around me vanished, throwing me into an arena type place. The arena was surrounded by cheering people screaming someone's name. The Vanquisher. Whoever that is. But my confusion was replaced by fear when a tall, muscular man who looked to be about 30 walked into the arena with a smirk. He had a shaved buzz cut and stubble lining his chin and jaw. He just looked like your average douche until his eyes went pure black. `` I am your first, mortal, and will soon be your last.'' The demon man spat as he lunged toward me. Day seven: I don't know how I survived on my second day but I did, he was too big and strong for his own good. I was fast, agile, and cleaver. Since when? I don't know either. But after he hit the floor and blood began to flow, he vanished, even his blood. There were other memories since I got here, but they quickly leave me, there is one thing I have and must keep. My sanity. Day 23: I have fought over 12 demons and other lost human souls since I've arrived. All with the same result. Success. The crowd cheers for me now, not them, and that's the way it should be. Wait, no it's not, I must leave, I must survive, that is all. Day 117: I have fought more souls and creatures than I can count. Not once have I lost, and it will stay that way… Defeat is no longer an option. I will win. I will survive. Day 385: There is no turning back now, this place, this doom, I rule. People bow to me, not Him. They cry to me for mercy, but mercy is not how I lasted this long. Mercy, maybe, but not from me, those who grant mercy are weak and don't", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0594", "text": "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 a bit confused. Did I tell robert everything? Oh well, I guess it's not a big deal. Who cares if some hippie knows. Then I turned on the news. Apparently the hippie was part of a workers' rights group that focused on children. Protests had started about how I paid kids practically nothing for product I turned for ridiculous profit. And you know what else? This hippie was *rich*. Filthy. Stinking. Rich. And she yelled to a news camera about how she would use her vast wealth to put me out of business. She said that once the kids knew how much their teeth were worth, I couldn't get by with paying them in quarters. And that's why the past few moths have been hell for me. It started with a few kids finding gold bars under their pillows. Then everyone started asking why the teeth were so valued. Now, kids are getting wise and holding on to their teeth until a high bidder comes around. The producers have now realized just how in demand their product is. They may not know why, but the ones who sell their teeth are getting insane amounts for them. College education? Paid for with teeth. Parents' nest egg? Paid for with teeth. And while this is all well and good for the little tooth factories, it was terrible for me and my customers. I wasn't getting any teeth, so I couldn't make any dust. Robert couldn't lay eggs for Easter. St. Patrick's day was without beer. Christmas was limited to the few far northern areas St. Nick could reach with traditional methods. All because the dirty hippie couldn't stand to let kids get quarters for doing practically nothing. Now there's", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0595", "text": "me such a rush... I need a fucking cigarette. Angelo then heard rustling behind him. `` Here bro, keep it a secret.'' The kid next to him flicked a Pall Mall onto his lap. Angelo forgot himself for a second and let out an angry whisper. `` What the fuck kid, a ten year old ain't supposed to be smokin!'' Celia leaned over to look at the boy who shifted back in his seat. `` I am forty-five numbnuts, you think you are the only one with bright ideas? Economy is tough. You think you are the only one who had some brilliant plans to get a discount?'' Without responding, Angelo looked around and realized that almost all of the children on the trolley were unaccompanied. He slowly saw that all of them had hairy arms, hairy backs, and the `` little girls'' adorned in Minnie mouse bows had something extra. `` Jesus Christ they have tits.'' The boy grinned. `` Told ya.'' Angelo's surprise was short lived when a shadow enveloped the entire trolley. He realized that they had just passed into a concrete tunnel. Celia shivered. `` This isn't an entrance, what's going on?'' Don was indistinguishable in the poor light, but almost everyone jumped when the crackle of his microphone broke through Goofy's repetitive singing. `` Don't be alarmed boys girls and parent's, this is just a special entrance for special kids like you.'' The man sitting next to Angelo began to panic. `` What the fuck man I am getting out of here!'' He began rattling the trolley door but it was locked by a mechanism he couldn't control. Don's sickly sweet voice rang out once again. `` Keep your arms and legs inside the trolley at all times, we are about to pull in to Mickey Station.'' Angelo felt a bead of sweat drop down his face as the trolley came to a halt. Before he could process what was going on, he was blinded by high intensity flashlights in the darkness. Celia groaned and both of them held up their hands. `` Get out of the vehicle, all of you.'' Black gloved hands wretched open the trolley doors and black clad figures ushered them all onto a concrete platform. They stood huddled together in the cold damp. Angelo noticed one of the people with a flashlight opening a large brown office door at the back of the", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0596", "text": "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?'' Thomas did not know what kind of hobby Death would have. After a short pause, Death spoke, `` You know what, it'll be easier to show you.'' Suddenly Thomas was on his feet looking at his body. `` OH GOD I—'' `` No you're not! God, you're squeamish! I just thought the nurses would find it weird if you were walking around at 2AM talking to yourself after having a kidney stone. So I took your soul out. Temporarily,'' Death said as he calmingly patted him on the back. `` Temporarily?'' `` Temporarily.'' `` Let's go! I don't want to miss it!'' Death said, gitty and excited. ______ Thomas and Death came to a small room labelled 4b. Thomas could only imagine what was inside: open heart surgeries, mangled limbs, dusty old men who might as well be corpses. The door opened to a woman holding a crying baby. Death walked 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0597", "text": "the rhythm produced by him every day jovial and bright. He learned who to embrace and who to avoid, learned who was lying from erratic climbs and dips in an otherwise consistent melody. He learned what to say and to who, monitoring the shift in their cadence, and using this knowledge to steer conversations to happy conclusions. He made it his duty to make others happy, because for some reason, he still hadn't found out how to do that for himself. He met Tiffany a year after he'd discovered his gift. He was confident in his interpretation of everyone he met by now, developing a sort of musical emotion theory that helped him and others. He was leaving work, his son staying the night at a friends and giving him the rare opportunity to be lazy at meal time. He stepped into the diner and took a seat in the back where the music resonating from the other patron's was quieter, intent to eat and read and keep to himself for a change... It was jarring. A deafening sound filled his head, a loud static that caused him to glance around for a TV or radio, thinking it impossible for any individual to produce this noise. It wasn't like the melodies he had grown accustomed to. He had encountered all sorts of people over the course of this last year, people who were openly grieving, others that were hiding their hurt, and even more on the opposite end of the spectrum living happy and exciting lives. The songs they made were each unique and drastically different, but they were all beautiful. This however... This was wrong. He glanced up, discarding his book onto the table as he peered outward past his furrowed brow. His head throbbed painfully, the static sound filling his senses, drowning out the soft melodies from the others seated on the opposite end of the diner, ignorant of his dilemma. He glanced person to person, studying their expressions for something that might explain this noise that was ailing him. He considering standing and running out, escaping from the agonizing sound, but curiosity kept him rooted in his seat... And then he saw her. A woman stared back at him, blocking the door to the kitchen with a pot of coffee clutched in her hand, trembling as she stared at him with a confused expression that mirrored his own. Her eyes were distressed as she forced herself to move forward towards him, reaching his table and moving to fill his cup before stopping, losing her confidence that she could pour with", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0598", "text": "I focused on the'everything is legal' part. I hope you enjoy it. -- - `` Alright. Is *everyone's* phone on silent this time?'' Jenny shuddered, remembering her first trip with the group, only yesterday, involving an escaped tiger and an angry elephant. Set off by a blaring ringtone. `` Okay, good.'' Jenny snapped her head back up, trying to seem like she had been listening. It was no use. Charlotte gave her a long look. `` Jenny, you're with me,'' the group's'leader' continued. `` Everyone, get into your pairs and lets go.'' Automatically, the huddle of 8 girls split into four pairs. Jenny felt Charlotte yank at her arm. `` What was her name again?'' Jenny asked quietly, pointing to the tall girl with red hair lounging absent-mindedly against the solid stone wall of the museum. `` She's Nikki... but it doesn't matter for now, we'll be just on our own for this mission. Chin up, Newbie, you'll learn everyone's names soon enough.'' *Mission, * Jenny thought to herself. *More like Death Wish. * She berated herself for joining the rag-tag team. All because she wanted to fit in in her new school. Jenny brushed the hair from her eyes and looked around- had the older girl... Charlotte... left her? Her eyes caught on the familiar figure standing tucked against a dimly lit staircase, motioning for her to follow. They walked in silence, the distant buzz of fluorescent lights the only noise to be heard. Charlotte turned to face the new-recruit. `` How old are you? I never asked...'' `` Um, 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, interrupt", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0599", "text": "balloon's burner was crushed by one of the wheels several cars back. The ensuing explosion derailed one car just as *Duel of the Fates* hit another peak. Gary propped himself with his legs and raised the volume on his magical Walkman with his one good arm. He loved how spot-on it was at capturing the moment. The derailed car behind them began to topple other cars one by one. Splanket found footing and climbed into the gap. Standing between the two cars, he stomped on Gary's hand. Gary fell further down and his dislocated arm grazed the track's crossbeams. Splanket moved down to try to kick Gary completely off. Fortunately for Gary, one of the kicks to his shoulder snapped the dislocated socket back into place. Now free to use both arms, Gary pulled on Splanket's leg. Splanket slipped and landed on his crotch, ending up with the train joints between his legs. The derailment finally reached the car to one side of them. It began to twist in place and one its wheels lifted off the rail. Just as the score was reaching its crescendo, Gary pulled the latch pin on the train joint and used it like brass knuckles to beat on Splanket. With the trains unhooked, the cars began to separate. Splanket was now too far for Gary to punch. The two men stared at each other as they drifted apart. Splanket felt a little defeated as the car he was on started to topple. `` Punk ass bitch!'' `` Tuck and roll, shit stain!'' replied Gary. Tuck and roll he did. Gary stood at the end of the train, bruised and bleeding. As he looked back at the tumbling cars, *Duel of the Fates* faded back into *Somewhere Over the Rainbow* at the wonderful view. Gary wondered how long until the next time they meet.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 401, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0600", "text": "The wretched little creatures below would be his servants. He was the laws of physics. He could do what he pleased with the fabric of the universe. Kozilek was the shapeshifter, the great distortion. In his wake, reality bent. _________________________________________________________________ Emrakul flew high above the miserable town below her. Where there were plain streets and buildings, she left life. Wriggling tentacles grew from the ground. Those who submitted to her and remained below became part of an ever expanding ooze. They became part of her. She spread cross the countryside, a great titan of life. Stone, metal, nothing stopped her. All became part of her, part of life. Her writhing mass flew above the world. The world of course, would become her. Her tentacle covered spawn crawled through the world. She was life, a biological monstrosity. This world would not know death, only her endless living. This world would be destroyed, and sh would be left behind. She was Emrakul, the promised end. In her wake, all was alive. _________________________________________________________________ `` We are reporting live from Magic the Gathering Pro Tour Eldritch Moon, and contestant Jonathan Paige Appears to have summoned some actual eldritch horrors. We are here with an exclusive interview with the man himself. Come on in, John!'' John walked into view of the camera. `` Thanks, Lance. Now, I'm sorry about unleashing a horrible threat to the world and all that, but I'm also kind of proud of myself. I mean, I did all this. Wow.'' `` So, can you tell us how exactly you did this?'' `` Yes, of course. So essentially, there's this `` 0 turn win'' combo, and its extremely hard to pull off. I was looking through some of my old cards, and I found a similar combo which would instead get all three Eldrazi Titans, which are basically extremely huge creatures, out very fast. The likelihood of it actually happening is very low, but I decided to just say,'Why not!' and bring it here. So somehow I managed to get all the way to the finals, and then at the very last game, boom! Combo. Now, obviously this had some sort of unforeseen effect that summoned the actual Titans to New York.'' `` Very interesting, John. Can you tell us how you first knew you had actually summoned these", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0601", "text": "his eyes widened. `` Talk.'' `` They want a seat at the Mage's Circle,'' he said, `` Something big is about to happen in the city, and they want a part of it when it all goes down. No one's taking them seriously because they don't got the numbers.'' `` So what?'' Akron asked, `` You add to them one guy who can't use magic?'' `` Not just one, Sarge,'' Pitch said already starting to wince, `` I got some of the other guys from the company.'' `` Gods on high, Pitch,'' Akron sighed, `` All of them?'' `` No, Sarge, not all of them. Some of the boys didn't want no part of this. Still shaky from the Mage Fire. You remember don't ya Sarge?'' Akron nodded and clenched his jaw. `` I'll pay you standard plus what I would have paid the other guys,'' Pitch said, `` It won't work without you, Sarge. You got ta get them back in line, whip them up, look impressive. The mages I work with will take care of the rest.'' Akron began to shake his head, but his stomach grumbled loud. A hint of a smile crept across Pitch's mouth. `` How much does it pay?'' Akron asked. Pitch tossed a bag of gold coins to his old superior. `` That's just what the other guys get,'' he said already grinning, `` You get that bag and four more like it.'' Akron looked inside and saw more gold than he'd seen in a long time. `` Fine,'' he said. Pitch clapped his hands, `` Good man, Sarge.'' `` But I won't take more than the men,'' Akron said, `` divi it all up evenly.'' `` Alright, Sarge, alright. If that's what you want,'' Pitch said as he wrung his hands. `` The Archmage is gon na love you.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 398, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0602", "text": "At first he was confident he was mad. What other conclusion could possibly be drawn from such absurd circumstance? His wife and daughter were taken from him, ran off the road and pinned beneath the twisted wreckage of their cramped two-door sedan by a careless drunkard who quickly fled and left the two for dead. He and his son were driving separately, happy after a family night out, unaware that a mother and wife, a sister and daughter, were about to be unfairly stolen from them. He didn't take the news well. He didn't heal like others in similar situations had, and his heart was pieced back together haphazardly as he went through his day to day mechanically rather than with any purpose. And his son suffered because of it. He was left agonizingly ignorant of his child's suffering until one day...... A melody. A soft, sad, tinkling sound, similar to a music box as it winds down and slowly stills. The song tore him from his passive stupor, and his subdued demeanor turned to confusion, then panic, and finally anger. He searched for the source of the sound, tearing up cushions, pulling out drawers, overturning furniture, desperate to find the source of the sound to disprove his insanity. His son looked on, frightened at his broken father's sudden outburst, the soft music growing in intensity, the gentle tinkling sound transitioning into an anxious melody with bellowing bass and frantic percussion. The song was deafening, and he ran from his home, leaving his son and the song. He fled to the streets, confident the air would help him get his head straight. He hadn't grieved properly, he'd held everything in and now it was finally surfacing, that had to be it! But as he walked, he moved past strangers, and with every one of them, a new song surfaced and assaulted his fragile psyche. A woman with a sallow sunken expression rang out with an erratic rhythm, a lazy guitar with a resonating bluesy twang. A man confidently posturing with long strides and a bright expression curiously crying out with a sorrowful violin, the melody drawn out and oozing emotion betraying the man's expression. A couple walking hand in hand, smiling and radiating their happiness outward, their individual sounds merging into a beautiful song that accentuated each others, the melody expressing the joy that their smiles only hinted at. He walked. He listened", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0603", "text": "love. ” The attendant looked down at his wrist and noticed the absence of a watch, and any other time-keeping device for that matter. As she looked up at Nigel he gave her a wink and pursed his lips together to emulate a kiss. As she struggled between feelings of disgust and complete apathy towards the situation, the attendant handed back his ticket and sighed, “ Have a nice flight sir. Thank you for flying Conair. ” Nigel walked down the aisle of the plane and noticed that he was sitting next to the bloke with the erection. As Nigel sat down Chad looked up and said “ Hello, ” but then looked embarrassed and quickly looked down to stare very intently at his shoes. Nigel sat down without comment and shoved his bag under the seat in front of him. Flight 231 had a total of 37 minutes of uninterrupted air time before all hell broke loose. 29 minutes in Nigel went to the bathroom at the rear of the plane. Chad thought it was odd that he brought his bag to the bathroom with him, but was too nervous about what he was about to do to give it much more thought. 30 minutes in Nigel had closed the bathroom door, unzipped his bag, and pulled out the four sticks of dynamite he had hooked up to an old-fashion alarm clock. How he managed to get it past security is anyone ’ s guess. At the same time Chad was reciting a mantra he had learned to overcome stage fright, or at least, Chad thought it was a mantra. Really, a list of ingredients to curry broth and a self-help mantra are pretty much the same when you don ’ t speak Hindi. 32 minutes into the flight Chad pulled himself into the aisle with his bag in hand as Nigel walked out of the bathroom with his TNT held high. AT the same time both hijackers said, or rather Nigel said and Chad squealed, “ Attention ladies and gentlemen! I have a bo…. ” Chad turned around at the sound of an echo and noticed Nigel standing at the back of the plane. He then took notice of what Nigel was holding and promptly let out a tiny scream. “ What!? ” An elderly man in the front row asked, “ What did they say? ” “ I think they said they got a bong, Marty. ” “ Oh, well that ’ s nice. ” Marty quickly fell asleep and died. So, technically, Nigel and Chad were only responsible for the deaths of", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0604", "text": "was supposed to, and then we begun our classes. I sat impatiently, having occasional spasms. Not because I was unhealthy, the exact opposite. It was because I didn ’ t want to be here. I had no choice in the matter, I was aware of this. So I sat dutifully and waited. After ranting for what seemed to be hours, but was only thirty minutes, I was excused to go to my next class. Just before I got up, I asked, “ Father, may I leave the manor? ” My words were like glass that were just dropped and silence overwhelmed the room. He looked furious, veins bulging from his neck. “ No, ” he said in a calm voice, but it reeked of anger. “ You may not. Is something wrong? This is the first time you have asked this. Maybe you should go back to the lab. ” He said with authority. I sat up. I clutched the table to support my weight, which seemed to grow until my legs barely stood up on their own. “ … No, ” I said. “ Excuse me? ” He bellowed, not even bothering to seem calm anymore. “ How dare you defy me! ” He yelled, and he walked towards me. He didn ’ t stand a chance. Life went by in flashes, and soon he was on the ground and I was running out of the manor. I sprinted out of the doors and I saw it all. The birds, the sky, the sunlight on my face. I ran. I ran as far as my legs could take me, the machines inside of me moving like clockwork. I was running away from the place that kept me prison. I was no longer afraid.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 363, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0605", "text": "`` Really, Paul? Not even a day and you're already bad mouthing him? Show some respect, man.'' `` Yeah, I'm right here. And I'm not dead.'' He growled, looking between the two. Paul shrugged. `` What? I mean I'm sorry for him and all, but that doesn't change the fact that he was a bit of a jerk.'' `` Well, can you blame him? After all, you know he hasn't been the same since his wife...'' He trailed off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air. `` Woah, now you're going to far!'' Tom shouted out at the gossip. Paul nodded sadly. `` Yeah, I guess. Well, at least they'll be together again.'' Tom turned to Paul, his anger starting to flare. `` That's it, I've had enough with you assholes.'' He reached to grab Paul's arm. `` You don't even joke about... wha-?'' He stared as his fingers passed through Paul's arm. He pulled his arm back abruptly, waggling his digits in front of his face. He reached out with both arms, like a blind man grasping for something. His rage slowly turned to horror as his arms harmlessly went through Paul's chest. Paul shuddered. `` I just got the worst chill.'' `` Hey, that means someone is walking over your grave.'' Paul scowled at his compatriot. `` You need to work on your timing.'' Tom was deaf to the squabbling that ensued. He placed his closed fists to his eyes as images began to flash through his head. The rear-view mirror, the rapidly approaching headlights. The world turning inside out. Just then, he heard a voice call out behind him. `` Tom?'' He froze up. It was a voice he had heard before. All too familiar, but one he had not been able to hear in years. `` Amelia?'' He slowly turned, his hands falling from his face. There she stood, just as he remembered her. Her hair still long and full, her body unmarred from her illness. She just stood there, tears welling up in her eyes. A thin smile on her lips as his eyes fell on her. `` I'm here, Tom.'' She said, softly. Tom rushed towards her, faster than he ever had run before. He wrapped his arms around her, his own tears", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0606", "text": "`` Hey, Todd! What's up?'' I waved to Todd from across the lobby. He waved enthusiastically back and started to walk over. `` Craig! Didn't expect to see you today. I see my assassins have failed again!'' We both gave a hearty chuckle, and he slapped my shoulder a few times as we shared the old familiar joke. `` So how's the family these days? Is your wife doing well?'' he asked, the smile slightly fading from his face. `` They're decent, you know, not bad. Mary had some pretty bad food poisoning the other day, but the doctor put her on antibiotics and she's getting better. Got ta be careful with Chipotle these days, I guess. Never thought it'd happen to us, though, you know?'' I said thoughtfully. He nodded solemnly. `` I've heard of some pretty nasty stories coming out of there recently. It's a shame, really. A damn shame.'' `` It really is. World's a scary place these days, you know? Hell, just last month my twin brother ( you've met Thomas, right? ), he got mugged in broad daylight! Scares me to think that I almost took the kids out to visit him in Long Island last week. That could have been us!'' I shuddered. He looked disturbed. `` Wow, that's insane! Lucky it wasn't you, though, right?'' He smiled a bit at that. `` Yeah, for sure. And there was that time our house was broken into a year ago. We could have been at home then! But look at me, talking so much. What's going on with you, man? 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0607", "text": "This man was white with gray hair and a mustache. He wore a cap with an American flag on it. Above it said `` US ARMY'' and below the flag: `` VIETNAM VETERAN.'' We walked to the front and watched as fire engines drove by. We saw police officers march by. We saw veterans walk along. Flags with all of them. A woman tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to her. `` Flag?'' She handed me and my family all flags and kept walking the crowd handing them out. I waved it. I laughed and cheered. But finally my curiosity got the best of me and I felt the need to ask a question of the older man. `` Does this happen every weekend here?'' I asked. He laughed. `` If only,'' He replied. `` Just today,'' `` But why?'' I asked. This time he gave me a confused face. `` You're not originally from here are you?'' I shook my head. `` Today is the Fourth of July. Our Independence Day. The day we chose to break away from the British monarchy and form our own nation. We celebrate the freedom we achieved that day and how we grew from there. This country is far... far from perfect, but it's home.'' I was in awe. These people celebrated this holiday every year. Held parades, and lit fireworks as this kind man explained. They sang songs about their different branches of military services, of independence, of freedom and liberty. They had barbeques, had friends over drank and ate together. Wished one another a happy day. They thanked whichever god they worshiped for the abundance and security they had in this country. They praised the people who fought to preserve it. They celebrated being American. `` So where did you come from?'' The man finally asked me. `` Nigeria,'' I answered. `` How long have you been here?'' `` A few months,'' `` Good,'' The man said. `` Do you like it so far?'' `` Yes we do,'' I said. `` My country does not have such a day as this,'' `` Yes it does,'' The man corrected. `` This is your country now,'' I could not believe what the man told me. I was not a citizen yet. I wanted to be but as far as I was concerned I was not an American yet. `` I have to go,'' The man said. `` My family is having a barbe", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0608", "text": "good job,'' I said. `` I'm going to actually pay attention to the stupid lessons about leaves they teach us,'' said Ricky, which was a major commitment, because leaves are super boring. `` We got this,'' I said, and we did our secret fist bump. `` I'm going to get the totin' chip first,'' said Carl from behind us. `` Nuh uh!'' I answered reflexively. `` Let it go. He's just trying to make you mad'' said Ricky. I ignored him. `` Why don't you go join girl scouts with your little sister?'' asked Carl, successfully making me mad. `` You aren't allowed to see our secret fist bump!'' I shouted back. Ricky hid his head in embarrassment. `` After dinner,'' said Carl, `` I'm going to sneak into the woods and practice so I'm sure to get it first.'' `` You don't even have a knife how are you going to --'' `` SHANE! I told you to help me unpack!'' said my Dad, angry, `` now c'mon!'' That night, after dinner, Ricky and I snuck into the woods. We couldn't tell on Carl to scout master Chanda, we weren't squealers. But we weren't about to Carl get a head start on us, either. We'd spend the whole day looking for arrow heads in the woods, and we'd found two that would probably let us practice. One of them was really good, too. But after hiking for 30 minutes, we couldn't find Carl anywhere. All we found was an old train car, sitting on the tracks, about 15 minutes from camp. `` Dude,'' said Ricky, `` is this supposed to be here?'' There was something wrong with that cart. Maybe it was how the sounds of the forest sounded eerily distant once we saw it. Maybe it was how the paint looked clean, like none of the animals had touched it. Maybe it was how all the shades were open in every room. But Ricky and I knew right then, we weren't exploring any further, we were going back to camp immediately, and we weren't telling anyone about this place. *** They didn't find Carl until the next morning. He was lying by the lakeside, with huge cuts all over his face. The adults wouldn't let us see him, they just carried him to the cabins", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 489, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0609", "text": "Adam and I had a difficult marriage. He desired a demure, obedient little wife. As if. I left his naked ass so fast. So, naturally God - who's also a man, mind you - declared the marriage null and void. He started again, creating the most beautiful creature I've ever beheld, notwithstanding the fact she came from that narcissistic ass's rib. Long red tresses like fire incarnate. Brilliant emerald eyes like deep green pools, pulling me into their abyss. Lovely as the eve she was named for. Too bad she desired to be a dutiful wife. Giving Adam bratty sons, doing as he asked day in and day out. I watched from outside that overrated Garden. Until one day, as luck would have it, she ventured away. That natural curiosity had a way of getting the best of her. I pushed my raven hair behind my ear and stepped out from my place of observation to introduce myself. Naturally she was shocked, having been told it was just herself, Adam, and those ridiculous sons. Overcoming that shock, however, curiosity once more took hold of her. We became fast friends. Every day she would come to see me. Shy at first, the words soon began to cascade from her tongue into my pool of understanding. We became nearly inseparable, and because of this Adam grew suspicious and one day followed her. `` You!'' he gasped upon seeing me, eyes nearly popping from his head, a vein on his temple fit to burst. `` Me,'' I agreed with a smile pulling at my lips. `` This, this can not stand! Come, Eve. At once.'' He demanded. `` And if I challenge you for her hand, Adam?'' I asked, my voice still calm and assured. Adam laughed. `` What? Impossible. It's Adam and Eve, not Eve and Lilith. Don't be crass.'' Casting a sidelong glance at Eve, I replied, `` I mean it. If you can solve my riddle... I'll stay away. If not, well, Eve gets to choose.'' Gulping past the thyroid cartilage in his neck that made it look like he'd swallowed a forbidden apple, he slowly assented with a nod. Ever the self-assured posturer, that one. `` What is harder to catch the faster you run?'' I asked. Not even a hard one. `` Uh, a snake. Obviously.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0610", "text": "of others. The first time I'd ever met my father was when I was five. My mother and he had had a falling out, and she kept me for her own without even telling him he had a son. She made money, you see, more than enough for her to feed and care for a son better than a some drunken tramp riding from town to town looking for an open bottle he could suckle on until the next train came in. So when he left, like he always did, and she found out she was pregnant she let it be. Raised me and told me my father was dead. But he, being my father and I suppose yours as well, came back one day. In place of a bottle he carried a bible, convinced that the Lord above had granted him a second chance and that if he cared for his immortal soul he'd have to make up for everything he'd done wrong. Said he needed to make amends, make peace with the people he'd done wrong by. But when he arrived at his former lover's house and found a child he didn't know what to do. Suddenly begging for forgiveness was begging for her to make amends. Said he realized he'd been a bad man and that he wanted another chance. Said he wanted to be a father for his son. For me. But my mother was not so forgiving, her memory long and unyielding. She told him that once I turned 18 it would be my choice, if he'd managed to stay sober that long, and that until then it'd be a visit every month. A letter for every holiday. And that was really the last I saw of him for years. I got the letters, got a chance to hug him and be reminded that he wasn't ever really going to be there for me. He showed me pictures sometimes, of his darling family. Of his wife, my stepmother I suppose, and all my wonderful half-siblings. But still my mother would not budge. She claimed that living in that po-dunk town in a fancy house was better for me than having a father. For five years I put up with it, until on the day of my 12th birthday I got a card from him rather than the usual visit ( moments in time that had become rarer and rarer as my mother and Frank- a man who insisted on being called dad for the seven years I knew him- cemented their life with", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0611", "text": "I had about 5 seconds to get used to lying on my back and frankly I was comfortable there until the 6th second rolled around and someone kicked me in the gut. You know what that feels like? A good solid kick in the gut that wakes you right up and rearranges your priorities in a hurry starting with `` make that not happen again, please''. So I was pretty pissed when I opened my eyes, breath gathered ready to swear the first person I saw into oblivion. That it was me made me pause halfway through `` Sonovvua-'' It was me. I'd kicked me. Or at least me with breasts, muscles and glasses, none of which I remembered having. I put my face in my hands, rubbed my eyes with my palms and opened them again to see, yup. Lady Me. Me'Lady in fact. There could be no question. `` Uh'' I said like the eloquent conversationalist I am. And she responded with, in my voice but falsetto, `` Shut up. I know you have questions. Frankly we all do. But if you're anything like the others you'll wait like we've been waiting too.'' This didn't help. So instead I edged myself onto my elbows and looked around. Me and Me'lady were in a bright white walled room with one transparent wall that looked onto a corridor with other such rooms. She'd planted herself ( myself? ) against the opposite wall and it took me a few more seconds before my head was clear enough for words. When I did, it was, `` Hello'' because you've got to start with hello. Or not, because she didn't reciprocate. So instead I asked, `` So....there's a lot of those eh?'' `` Those? ``, she raised an eyebrow and it looked just like I'd always thought I looked like when I did that. `` The rooms with....us... in them'' `` Yup. Listen do you remember anything?'' I couldn't. And I had a feeling she was expecting that to be the answer. So instead I asked her, `` Does any of us? Also, why did you kick me? If you broke a kidney and I need a replacement I know I'm taking one of yours.'' `` Pipe down smartass. And no, none of us remember. There's a girl 3 rooms down who says he's been here for an hour.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0612", "text": "`` Jerk.'' Said Kevin. But he was smiling. I smiled too. It was unlikely that any of my friends would be placed into duty for the Establishment, but that was fine, that way they wouldn't be hurt. Their powers were minor, so they were allowed to roam free. Stacey turned to me suddenly, ignoring the small wrestling match that had broken out between Kevin and Brad. `` You must be excited huh Drew?'' `` What do you mean?'' I said. `` Well you turn 21 next month right? You should be getting your power any day now.'' `` Hey that's right!'' Said Kevin, who had Brad in a headlock. `` Any idea what it might be?'' `` Oh, I guess I hadn't really thought about it.'' I said, smiling. `` What!?'' said Brad, pushing Kevin away. `` How can you not think about it?'' `` I dunno, I've been busy lately?'' All three of my friends looked at me like I was insane. I simply smiled. After all how could they know that I already had my powers. That my examination was falsified every year, because technically, I didn't exist. I went rogue. My power manifested itself at 16. And when the inspectors came around for my first test at 17, I killed them. Because you see my power is different, my power comes from a darker god than theirs. With a simple touch, I can take. Take anything, take everything. Your mind, your looks, your memories, your voice, your sight, the air from your lungs, the cells in your brain, the blood from your veins, your power. I can remove them, I can keep them. So far I've remade my face three times, and I have taken the powers of those who have come to find out mine. And disposed of any who came close. I have been 20 for over 5 years, each year with a new face, new blood, new body, new cells, new powers. So far I'm bulletproof, I can teleport, and following a truly spectacular fight, I can control the weather. I don't age, but maybe this year I will. Maybe this year I stop hiding. But first I think I'll see how strong Kevin's power gets. Fire sounds fun.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 479, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0613", "text": "Mark said trying to keep himself together. He pressed his shaking hands against his sides and took a deep breath. Flashlights flared to life around the cabin. Erin gasped as her beam illuminated Wallace ’ s body. Thick drops of blood were creating a pool underneath his seat. Darrel peered out the main hatch and shouted for everyone to come join him. “ I don ’ t think we are underwater anymore. ” “ That ’ s impossible, of course we are! ” Erin said. “ No, of course we are UNDER water, what I ’ m saying is that we are not touching water… ” His voice trailed off. Mark pushed through the crew to look out the hatch ’ s window. Confirming Darrel ’ s suspicion he spun the heavy wheel opening the hatch. Water didn ’ t rush in to fill the sub. “ How? ” Erin asked as Mark stepped out of the sub. The sub had been steered directly into a massive air pocket. The largest Mark had ever heard of. Their flashlights could barely pierce the gloom. “ Everyone out, we are here to explore and further science. Well, here is the perfect opportunity. ” He said gruffly. The crew spread out. Each man and woman alone with their thoughts. They each tried to cope with the fact that they were most likely going to die at the bottom of the ocean. Erin whispered a prayer to herself. Her light cut a swath through the darkness. The dark stone underneath her feet was like nothing she had ever seen before. Like rough cloudy obsidian. Darrel shouted in excitement. Mark and Erin rushed to see what was wrong. “ Have you ever seen anything like this before? ” He pointed at a large stone arch. It was carved out of the same dark stone as the floor. Intricate carvings were etched into the entire arch. “ Why is there an arch standing by itself down here? And what language is that? ” Mark asked. He walked around in the large arch in a circle. The carvings were present on the other side. “ It looks almost like Latin but it definitely isn ’ t. ” Mark reached his hand out and pressed it against the dark stone. It was warm to the touch. “ I think this is the exact center of the air bubble. ” Mark said to himself. “ Whatever it is, it ’ s ancient. ” Darrel replied. A low whistle and click came from somewhere in", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0614", "text": "to know about before you reach the legal voting age! And I'm sure you all know what age that is, right kids?'' The children all groaned. `` He sounds so... patronizing,'' Timmy mumbled to Samantha. `` Tweeeeelve,'' they all moaned. `` That's right!'' Terrence swung his fist `` Now let's get into the rules!'' he said, starting to pace. `` One of the most important things you need to know about time travelling is that it's _okay_ to create an alternate timeline, so long as you stay within the legal limits as society dictates! First and foremost, when travelling to the past, you are not allowed to communicate with yourself in any way. You have what is referred to by law as an'implicit paradoxical restraining order,' and to violate it is a federal offense! You may think it would be important to go back and tell yourself the answers to next week's test, or not to invest anymore of that stock in Organic Foods --'' `` Or to call in sick and skip class today,'' said Erica. `` Verrry funny! Ha!'' Terrence said with robotic enthusiasm. `` As I was saying: as enticing as these scenarios are, you're not allowed to do them!'' Several minutes passed explaining the various types of litigation involved with time travel, and various people who are also included in the implicit paradoxical restraining order. The children were all struggling to keep their eyes open. Mrs. Kelderwax's eyes were locked on Terrences rear like a pair of lasers. `` And before you get this time travel permit, you must first seek approval from the local town hall explaining the purpose of your _mission_. This is called your _mission statement_. This can be waived in the event of a tour, however, like to the popular'Pterodactyl Isles Tour.''' Then there was a brief pause. `` So that's a your brief guide to the wonderful world of time travel! It's nothing to be afraid of, as long as --'' Terrence's form buzzed out of existence, and the room lights turned back on. Mrs. Kelderwax stumbled back up to the front of the classroom to resume the lecture. `` As you can see, the very idea of making time travel legal was ridiculous, kids. As soon as someone hacked the firmware on the machines disabling the limits, history plunged into chaos.'' She said, ``", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0615", "text": "`` Today, meine students, you will learn how to arouse a subject with a charm spell of Dominis Vinco'' said venerated but deeply respected Helga von Taurgum, the mistress of Darkness, while she walked in her tight dark clothes around her subjects in class, the venerated Mistress was well suited for her age of barely passed forty and her hips kept intentionally moving in manner of teasing the barely maturing males and females of the great academy of the Magical Bondage. `` Ah, young Asswulf'' she suddenly turned to sixteen year old blonde and a bit chubby teenager, whom quickly dropped his head in shame when he looked into the youngish face of the Mistress and her brown eyes that seemed childish, but felt the joys of life that gave great wisdom to her `` why you and miss Titeria do not try a small practice.'' Asswulf turned to his comrade in bondage, Titeria, whom wild curly red hair was containable only by the leather strap on her head that kept it in check of bursting wildly. `` Wh.. what if I do something wrong? What if I cause pain or something... worse?'' said Asswulf with uncertainty the size a building block. `` Oh, sweet, sweet, Asswulf'' said Mistress and like a shadow came elegantly right behind him `` I am here for you to keep you and your comrade safe'' she said elegantly, while putting her hand with long fingers and black nails onto his shoulder and said in commanding tone `` pick up your whip.'' Asswulf picked up his whip, just like all the whips that represented the Id of their Maister Kommandant, so was his represented in a manner that symbolized his inner self, a bit short but very fat whip that when used produced the arcane powers dormant inside each wielder that splashed in waves onto the friends and foes alike. The Mistress stud behind Asswulf and her hand went from his shoulder onto the palm of his hand where he held his fat whip. Asswulf felt her warm breath and her female curves that pressed onto his back, meaty and big curves of maternal heritage that any man would lay with. Titeria came with commanding step right in front of him, her young and still developing body in black robes of night similar to the Mistress but yet without the curves of maternal beauty. `` I am waiting meine camarade in bondage'' said to now utterly confused Asswulf.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0616", "text": "to see what I can't. You can understand me?'' `` I can understand you. I will be at my best. Everything is counting on it. `` `` Good, that is the way I want it.'' `` ALERT, ALERT ALL CREW, temporal shift in 1 current minute. All hands please enact last departure procedures and hold for shift impact.'' The lights flashed. The buzzer came one. Neither of the mammals talked as they rushed to their stations, tidying up odd bits and sealing any loose time sensitive items in protective containers. Then they sat in their chairs and breathed in deeply, preparing for the next unpleasant step they had ahead of them. Jor looked at his primate apprentice pilot, the kid looked more composed than before, more aware. `` I believe you now, I can smell the stress.'' `` I told you, focus and alert from here on out... Also Jor, er, Kappa?'' `` Yes?'' `` Can you use Bron? Not Brondon? My mother was old fashioned and gave me the name. She said it was one of the most popular names among Them. I think is sounds ridiculous.'' The pig snorted in amusement and then leaned his head back against his chair with his eyes tightly closed. His hooves clenched tightly under his crossed arms. He always hated this part. EDIT: PART 3 `` Father, is that the fleet? Those lights flashing?'' `` Yes dear one, that is the fleet. They are shifting time streams now'' `` And fathers-brother Jor is with them?'' The little novaswine pulled on her fathers fur in excitement as she sat on his broad shoulders. She stared up at the start in delight, intently hoping to see the flashes of the ships of the Holy Armada `` Yes, Jor is up there alright. He has to be.'' `` Because he's a hero!'' `` Well, I wouldn't say that.'' `` Y'hUh! Mother was telling me how he held back an entire herd of elk rangers with only his wits and his boat!'' `` A whole herd? Now that seems a bit far fetched.'' `` And now mother says he is going to fly out and take on the Enemy and blow them all to little pieces!'' The excited piglet squealed, then made tiny explosion impressions set to the pantomimed star craft she had made with her hands. `` What your fathers-brother", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0617", "text": "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 isn ’ t limited to only celebrities. ” “ So I ’ m dead, ” I asked. Robin Williams just smiled back at me. “ No, not exactly, ” he replied. “ Maybe Andre the Giant should explain it to you. ” “ What? ” I asked, starting to feel weary from whatever medicine he had given me. “ You ’ re mostly dead, ” Robin answered me. “ If you were fully dead, well I don ’ t know what happens. But this is where mostly dead people come. ” “ Hey Robin- “ a voice began as the door swung open. John Ritter proceeded to trip and fall into the cabin. “ Kennedy is about to fight Lincoln over who gets to date Marilynn, ” Patrick Swayze shouted from the doorway. John Ritter picked himself off the floor. “ Well, I ’ ve got to get going, ” Robin Williams said. He headed for the door with his buddies. Heath was already asleep and bandaged in his bed. “ Wait! ” I shouted. “ Kennedy and Lincoln? ” “ Oh, you thought he meant the president? ” Robin commented. “ No, it ’ s a different Lincoln. ” “ But what about Kennedy? ” “ You just get some rest, ” Robin replied. “ Good news for you too. There ’ s a lot of single men on this island. You shouldn ’ t have an issue finding someone to hook up with. Unless of course women are your thing. There ’ s a few here that might be interested as well. ” “ Come on boys! ” Robin said, wrapping his arms around their shoulders. “ Lets go see Kennedy beat Lincoln up! Only happens once in a lifetime. ” He turned", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0618", "text": "Oh don't be so upset, brother. He couldn't possibly know.'' Lucifer seemed to calm a bit, looking less angry and more resigned. I tried to finally find my voice. `` Sorry, but isn't he the bad guy?'' I was trying not to look at Lucifer, afraid he'd take my soul or something equally bad. `` You mortals, always so obsessed with him being the Fallen. That was your story, that you invented and believed. He has always been my brother, nothing more or less.'' Michael seemed to be losing his patience now, irate on behalf of his brother, it seemed. `` The task, brother mine. He didn't pray for a history lesson.'' Lucifer seemed to be the responsible one, keeping his brother on target. `` Ah, yes! The task! You asked our Father what the meaning of life was. He sent us to tell you! Would you like to know?'' I desperately tried to nod yes, how could I say no? The fundamental human question! I was going to know the meaning of life! `` 42.'' Michael's voice was completely deadpan, and I stared at him in shock for a moment. Like the book?! Seriously? `` No no, I'm kidding. Sorry. Your Douglas was was so fascinating. He really is a wonderful storyteller for your universe.'' I breathed a sigh of relief. That would have been an awful answer, one that I couldn't say I would accept, even if true. Wait, my universe? I kept my mouth shut and let him talk. `` No mortal, the answer is infinitely more complex than that, but also infinitely simpler. The answer is that your life is the first life of the entire universe. It's also the last life, and every life in between. This entire planet, and all the stars and galaxies around it, are a playground created for you. Endless entertainment, so that you may never tire of its wonders.'' His voice sounded so reverent, as if he was describing God Himself. `` Our Father created an infinite number of playgrounds, for his infinite children, you mortals, to play in. When you die, you are born again as someone else. This whole universe is just you, at different points in time and space, endless living the greatest adventure than anyone will ever have. The meaning of life, mortal, is to enjoy, until the end of time and all things,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0619", "text": ", I will take care of him.'' Never in her short career did Claire feel such rage. She opened her eyes and removed her quivering hand from her mouth and clenched it into a fist. She wanted to punch something. She raised her clenched fist high above her head, and for a split second, almost brought it down onto the dead boy's chest. Claire stopped herself, though, a half-inch from the boy's sternum. She sighed, feeling warm tears roll down her cheeks. It felt like an apple had lodged itself in her throat and it hurt to swallow. `` Bullshit,'' she whispered, laying her hand on the boy's sternum. It was then that she felt a heartbeat. She jerked a hand back and yelped as the boy's skin flashed. The scalped skin that was sagging across his face fixed itself back to the top of his head, and his eyeballs fluttered underneath his eyelids as if he were having a very vivid dream. *** It didn't take long for her to realize that bringing the dead to life was taking it's toll on her. At the age of 27, she realized she was already starting to get wrinkles on her face. Her hair was thinning and turning grey, and it wasn't too much of a stretch to say that she looked older than her own mother. But it didn't stop Claire. Every single time she was presented a child under the age of five, she performed a miracle. Things became difficult when people started learning of the undertaker who brought the dead to life, and countless times Claire had to move and change her name. But the funny thing about it, the more Claire performed these miracles, the older she became, and with the aging, came the changing of her facial features. One year, it was a young woman who had performed a miracle in bringing a girl who had been murdered by a pedophile back from the death, and the next year, it was an elderly woman, resurrecting a child who died from an peanut allergy. It was hard to keep track of who was doing the miracles. Claire became Elanor, Elanor became Ruth, and Ruth became Gracie, and so on and so forth. Soon, she was just picking names from her favorite books. *** Her last wasn't a child. No, for her last miracle, Claire brought back a mother who died during childbirth. She had never brought back an", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0620", "text": "I wasn't really the type of kid who stood out, always sitting in the back of the class, shooting spitballs at other kids, getting told off by the teacher, but not being the giant bully you always run from. I was more of a class clown. But one time, I had accidentally hit that big bully in the back of the head with one of my spitballs. He whipped around and stared me down, and his eyes just screamed `` You're dead.'' I squeaked and slouched back in my seat. `` Never doing that again.'' I thought. The rest of the day went on normally, and I thought he was all talk. I got to my house safely, and tossed my bag on the couch. I went into the bathroom, and took a quick glance in the mirror before starting to move to the toilet. `` Wait a second.'' Something was off, so I moved back to the mirror. I looked closely, thinking maybe I had just imagined it, but then I looked again, making eye contact with myself. `` Are my eyes... green?'' My eyes are normally blue, why would they look green? I shook my head and went to the bathroom, but when I was washing my hands, I looked in the mirror again. Something was definitely up. I concentrated on my eyes, and jumped back as they slowly changed back to blue. `` It must be a trick of the light, my eyes wouldn't just change color like that.'' I went and did my homework, nothing out of the usual. However, when I woke up, I looked in the mirror in my bedroom, where I normally do my makeup. My eyes were hazel now. `` What the hell is going on?'' I stared myself down again until they turned back to blue. `` Am I doing that? Can I change my eye color?'' It was the weekend, so I didn't have any school to worry about. I looked at my eyes again, thinking about brown eyes. Sure enough, my eyes turned brown. `` What the hell?'' I thought maybe I could try some other things. Could I possibly change my hair color too? Just as I thought that, my hair changed color, to a light blonde. Cool. I jokingly thought of if I could become a boy, and suddenly before me in the mirror stood a skinny-looking guy, with the same blonde hair and brown eyes I had given myself. I heard a knock", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0621", "text": "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 writhed as best she could, but the straps may as well ’ ve been wrought of iron. She screamed through her hoarse throat. “ Yes. ” he cooed, “ Scream. There ’ ll be plenty more of that to come. ” And then, a mighty crash as one of the walls erupted in a shower of dust and concrete, accompanied by a roar like the blaring of a titanic hell-train. Julia coughed and spluttered, and the doctor stumbled, shielding his eyes. The ground shook with the steady rhythm of an ancient god ’ s drums and, striding forth from the rubble, emerging from the haze with awesome, primal splendour, came the tyrannosaurus. “ Curses! ” the doctor yelled. “ My secret genetic-engineering project that I keep in my basement. Oh, why didn ’ t I use a stronger lock? ” The great beast regarded him with one cold yellow eye as he ran to the door, hopping cartoonishly on his feet, fiddling in vain with the lock, tittering nonsense to himself. Yawning it ’ s tremendous maw, the t-rex brought it ’ s teeth down upon the doctor and lifted him, wailing and flailing, into the air. Julia heard his bones crunch as it shook him around, like a dog with a toy, and then he was gone. The rex stamped his great, scaly foot, and roared again sending tremors throughout the room, and causing the table Julia was strapped on to come crashing down, and the bonds holding her to come loose. Her ears were ringing, and her body ached terribly from the fall, but she was alive. She rose awkward", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0622", "text": "As Steven climbed 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. Naturally, Steven pressed it as soon as he got in. No point messing around with navigational coordinates today, everything had already been taken care of at command for the journey. Instantly the vessel began to shake and stir as the engines underneath Steven ’ s feet roared to life. The door behind him slammed shut, releasing a loud hiss of pressurized air as the cabin sealed itself to the outside world. As Steven scrambled 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 ever since his crazy journey started: “ SYSTEM READY. LAUNCH IN T-10 SECONDS ” “ 9... 8... 7... ” Was it really his time? Adrift for so many years, Earth felt like mere remnants of a dream. Steven could scarcely remember what Earth was like. There was a lot of water, more than a single person could ever need for survival, and plants so big a single one could fill an entire space station! Earth smells though, they always felt a bit off. Steven could quite put his finger on why, but it felt almost *unnatural*. “ 6... 5... 4... ” Steven ’ s stomach churned as the little craft began to shake in the launch dock. A faint humming noise could be heard from beneath his feet, getting louder with each passing second as 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0623", "text": "and eventually it's as if time stood still. And then I awoke. The door opened on the chamber, and I crawled out, nauseated from the journey. The lights on the ship slowly flickered to life as I gathered myself on the cold metal floor. After the dizziness passed I made my way to the cockpit. `` It's good to see you Parker.'' hummed Charon's voice `` Though you are a couple of days earlier than I expected. It's fascinating that you are so resilient, most humans have extreme difficulty moving after staying in the deep sleep chamber for a couple of days. Much less getting up after spending six and a half years in one.'' `` They trained me well.'' I gruffly replied. `` What's the status of the ship?'' `` The ship is functioning at optimal levels, and we are ready to begin running tests whenever you give the word.'' `` Alright then lets proceed with some of the basics. Start running diagnostics on the immediate area surrounding us, and let me know what you find.'' I said `` No problem, I will let you know when that is completed.'' It replied. This was the general procedure for the months that we spent out there past the solar system. I would order a battery of tests, and Charon would report back with the results. Most came back negative with the exception of some spectroscopy reports on some nearby asteroids that had drifted by. This was to be expected though. The main purpose of this expedition was to see if this was a feasible operation that could be done. So far in that aspect it was a success. We would pave the way for future expeditions that could potentially bring colonies to other worlds in the not so distant future. Once our 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0624", "text": "I dropped the marker in shock, staring at the board in wonder. 15 years... I looked at the mathematical solution written in electronic ink. The problem that had consumed me since I got my masters. I stepped back and stared at the board, as it cycled through the pages of mathematical insanity. I had finally proven the existence of a God. I had done it. I quickly began printing the 108 pages of my theorem, excited to stun the world. I picked up the last paper, still hot from the printer. I placed the papers into a folder, which went into a briefcase. I then sprinted out of the small room I rented from the university. I left the room, ran down the hallway, and as I ran around a corner, collided with Dan the janitor. I fell to the floor, but Dan and his floor buffer didn't even flinch. Which was weird, considering he was 80 years old. Dan turned to look at me, amused. `` Well, you seem a mite startled there, bud. What's on your mind?'' I grabbed my briefcase and stood up, a little flushed. `` It's nothing.'' I said, straightening my tie. `` Just little theory I was working on.'' Dan smiled. `` Ah yes. The quest.'' I paused at his words for a moment, but decided to write them off as the ramblings of an old man. I stepped away from him. `` Well, anyway, I must be going.'' Dan grabbed my arm with an iron fist. `` Not so fast.'' Startled, I stumbled back, but Dan didn't move, and neither did his grip. `` Let go of me you crazy bastard!'' Dan pulled me close. He smelled like ozone. `` You mustn't reveal it. The world isn't ready for it. Hell, the world wasn't ready for it 10,000 years ago.'' We locked eyes, and I gasped. His were a waterfall that I fell into. But instead of water, I saw forests, rivers, oceans, stars, galaxies. I saw supernovas and black holes. I saw the Big Bang, and I saw time manifested. Dan blinked, and the visions vanished. He pulled me close enough that our noses touched. The fight in me was gone. `` You will take your proof of me and burn it. You will then scatter the ashes. You will erase it from", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0625", "text": "The clock ticked a-rhythmically and uncomfortably while the HR rep contracted out for recruitment leafed through the application and resume with a degree of humming and teeth whistling. The room was slightly too cold, the rep has adjusted it down and was dressed accordingly with the applicant feeling the chill dressed as he was for the subtropics. Subtly looking about the room he noticed how nothing was quite comfortable, from the flickering light, the clock tick and the chair which pinched in places except for the rep's chair which looked discretely luxurious. `` Well, that's all in order. Your tax forms are altogether, ID checks out and the referees I've called have mostly confirmed everything'' `` mostly‽'' exclaimed the applicant quizzically. `` oh do n't fret, just two did n't return my phone calls. But i followed up, The uh Regurgitator apparently passed on Blood Island after a run in with a U.N. taskforce sent to recover the warhead you very successfully purloined from the Reunited Republic of Korea. As for The Stink in Franchescaville they vanished though I am informed this was at the same time one of the caped kinds had an epiphany about the nature of murder and morality. So one makes assumptions but other sources tell me your work was commendable.'' the representative quickly drummed his fingers on the desk and appearing to consider something. Time ticked slowly away. `` anyway, back to the task at hand. Now it's important for me stress that this will be a different arrangement to your usual fare. Full time retainment with loyalty clauses opposed to the more freelance style of contract you are more familiar with. Annual pay will seem smaller than a'good year' `` the air quotes went un-gestured but very much inflected. `` but I think you'll find the reliable income and other benefits more than make up for it''. Tension in the room jumped suddenly as a chrome revolver was produce from a drawer in the desk and dropped on the table. The applicant became aware of a coppery tang to the air and tried not to look at the wall behind him. `` now you may know me as The Recruiter and of the many things i do this is my trademark, you do n't have a say in this anymore and it's up to me accept you for the contract or... terminate it before it even begins.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0626", "text": "Today was the day. When I heard that my daughter's killer had lost his latest appeal, I had started waiting for this day. At six foot eight the man was powerful. He could have had gainful employment in a number of jobs. I heard the talk from the guards that this man read a book a day. I wonder what his life would have been like if he had applied himself. Instead, one unusually cold day in October, he went up to Katie's car, pulled a gun, and demanded that she get out. Katie had always been a fierce girl, not one to let anybody tell her what to do. I'd taught her that her life is more valuable than any of her possessions, but her attitude got the better of her. And then she was dead. It was n't the crime he was sentenced to death for, but a life of crime always had casualties. One of his just happened to mean something to me. The day of his execution, I waited with baited breath for the request. I'd cooked lobster, pizzas, and apple pies. I'd made the last hour of many men's lives slightly better. I could n't imagine what this man would want. I always prepared the kitchen beforehand for anything I might need to make. Two hours before his execution by lethal injection, I received a piece of paper. I leaned over the counter and opened it up. Grilled Cheese and Fries. I got to work. -- - Twenty minutes later I brought the tray to the killer's cell. I peered in at the large man, sitting on his bunk with his head in his hands. After I tapped on the glass I got a glimpse of his face. He was crying. I opened the slot and slid the tray in. Once he had a hold of it, I let go and turned away. `` I'm sorry.'' I froze, unsure of what to say. The man had killed Katie. He had made life harder for Katie's mother and myself, and he had done it over a shitty'93 Jeep Cherokee. I turned. He stared into my eyes and said it again. `` I'm sorry. I really am.'' I turned and resumed walking away. Just before he was out of earshot, I glanced at him. `` So am I.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 466, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0627", "text": "his mouth. Eventually the world around him returned to its normal radiance, colors trickled in and in the presence of such beauty tears welled in his eyes. Oranges, reds, greens, the many colors of fall radoated within him and caused a warmth to flow from within him. Suddenly he noticed a noise, voices in the distance, getting louder and louder. It sounded similar to his laughter and he smiled as a feeling of anticipation welled inside him. Turning in the direction of the sound he saw figures getting taller as they grew louder. `` Fulgur''!!!! That word be louder than the rest startled him, but not as much as the blinding light which sprung forth from one of the figures, racing towards him at blinding speeds. Instinctively Achim's hand swiped across his body and the bolt carrened off and slammed into a tree. The figures stopped moving towards him. Achim. Achim. Achim. This thought raced through his mind, seeming to keep pace with his pounding heart, louder and louder with each thud. `` How the fuck did he do that''? It didn't make sense, he didn't say any spell, that lightning should have obliterated him. Another memory gone for nothing, although Sam couldn't remember what it was ( it was his first kiss ). `` I don't know how he did that but we need to stop this guy, the guild wants him dead''. `` Fuck this better pay well'' you can always make new memory's in which you have told of cash. And with that Achim found himself at the center of a random array of magical attacks, lightning, fire, ice, rocks, and steel. `` Fulgur'', `` Ignis'', `` Glacies'', `` Ferrum Durum''! These words meant nothing to Achim but the images caused unease within him. Putting his hands up the projectiles stopped in mid-air, seemingly frozen in time they hovered and then disappeared when he closed his palms. Red filled his vision, his eyes narrowed and one by one the infuriate figures disappeared as his gaze passed over them. ACHIM. ACHIM. ACHIM. ACHIM. His heart pounded faster and faster and the name kept racing through his mind. Sudden a noise startled him from behind and he whipped around, not sure what to expect. A small fox stood before him, a mixed hue of fall foliage it", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0628", "text": "?'' I stared myself down again until they turned back to blue. `` Am I doing that? Can I change my eye color?'' It was the weekend, so I didn't have any school to worry about. I looked at my eyes again, thinking about brown eyes. Sure enough, my eyes turned brown. `` What the hell?'' I thought maybe I could try some other things. Could I possibly change my hair color too? Just as I thought that, my hair changed color, to a light blonde. Cool. I jokingly thought of if I could become a boy, and suddenly before me in the mirror stood a skinny-looking guy, with the same blonde hair and brown eyes I had given myself. I heard a knock on the door and jumped a little bit. Do I need to change back in the same order I changed to begin with? The door started to open, and the first thing I did was change my hair color back to its brown color, then quickly changed back to a girl. My eyes were still brown, but I didn't care because I was looking in the mirror, whoever entered wouldn't see my eyes. My mom walked in the door, telling me breakfast was ready. `` Ok, just a sec, mom. I think I got an eyelash in my eye.'' I immediately mentally smacked myself in the head, now she was going to look me in the eyes. I quickly changed them back to blue. `` What's for breakfast, anyway?'' My mom didn't look too closely, thanks to the diversion. `` Oh, it's just some pancakes. You look kind of different, did you eat a Thanksgiving dinner in your sleep?'' What? I looked down at myself. Whoops, I guess the mirror makes me lose ten pounds. I was so focused on changing back that I must not have thought about what shape to give my body. `` I guess so? I'm not skipping breakfast though!'' I really sounded suspicious, my mom was bound to find out. `` Hey mom, actually-'' `` Honey, did something happen at school yesterday? I already know you're a shapeshifter, the whole family is. Usually you first change as a defense mechanism. Then, if you're like me, you stand in front of the mirror for hours seeing what you can do.'' That was definitely what I was just doing. `` Like mother, like daughter, eh?'' I pulled out", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0629", "text": "I glanced at Khan angrily, who grinned even wider now. `` I'm raping you in the ass verbally, am I not'' Even Churchill sniggered. I looked back angrily at the screen, clicking violently. `` He can't stand the truth'' Churchill said rather plainly, taking the cigar out of his mouth, watching the tobacco smoulder. `` I can't help it.'' I said `` It was in my genes, I knew that when I googled it and read about it. I just checked the boxes. I couldn't have stopped it.'' Genghis Khan put his hand on my shoulder and clicked his tongue. `` Tsk tsk'' he clicked `` we know. We're your brain's subconsciousness, after all.'' I felt heaviness set down upon my heart. `` I know'' I muttered `` I never had a chance though, did I.'' `` Fuck you and your broken English'' I snapped. Churchill tapped some ash on the forehead of the burly black man, who didn't seem to care. He'd been looking over my shoulder at the screen solemnly and silently for a while now. `` The drugs certainly didn't help it, obviously. You knew it was coming when you started hearing people calling your name when it was silent. You saw the shadows in the corner of your eye, heard your friends voices talking in your head.'' He heaved a heavy sigh. `` Yet you kept doing it. You didn't listen to the psychiatrist when she offered you rehab.'' I stopped scrolling, and stared down at the keyboard. Churchill was right, and I knew it. I knew they weren't there, that if I'd reach out to touch them, they'd vanish until my mind conjures them again. `` What are you googling Tom'' the burly black man asked kindly. `` I'm finding a job.'' I said `` I don't want to work in a restaurant again though, I really hated the stress. But maybe if I do, I can afford university and still make something of my life.'' The burly black man sighed sadly. `` Yeah, maybe you can. One day. You'll be big.'' I grinned `` I'll show them. Prove my dad wrong.'' `` Alright, but computer time is over. Back to bed.'' I rose to my feet, and shoved my office chair away from the desk, rolling over the floor, snickering. The nurse leaned", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 492, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0630", "text": ": Arthur Holler, sixteen year old, Old Hamilton High School. Everything was a match. Apparently, his brother became some High School hot-shot. He had made the touch down that got his school the national prize. Ricky was very excited and happy for his little brother. He always knew Arthur was going to be big. But the excitement went away rather quickly. There was a picture of Arthur holding the cup on the other page. He was next to a guy that looked a lot like Ricky. A lot, except for one little detail. On the guy's arm there was no number, and Ricky had had the inscription `` 1005941'' on his left arm since he joined the army. But he had a little scar next to his right eye, the same Ricky had since he fell off his bike when he was just a little boy. And suddenly he got it all. He remembered the scientific experimentation that was going on a little before the war started. The new way of warfare that the army has been developing, according to the news of the time. He realized he wasn't really himself. He stormed in the major's office, who was already on the phone asking for someone to find him. Ricky demanded explanations. The major said everything would be answered with a file he kept on his drawer. Ricky asked to see it, but the last thing he saw was the metallic colt.45 that the major had as a souvenir. Rick had time to think the gun was too old to fire a bullet before he had hit the ground.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 311, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0631", "text": "You asked him a question, right?'' His gaze burned into me with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. `` You -- you're father? I didn't ask anyone anything. Just, please, don't hurt me.'' Staring into those eyes, my false courage gave way and I settled for pleading. `` Yes, yes you did. You asked him what the meaning of life was. He's too busy to handle questions like that himself, but he sent us to answer for you.'' The tall man looked amused, with a slight smile on his too-handsome face. `` I... I didn't! I swear. The only time I ever asked that was when I was... praying...'' Then it dawned me, smashing into my conscious like a wrecking ball. I prayed... Then these men showed up, in a rush of wings. They were talking about their Father. Wait, these were angels! God heard me! He answered my prayer. `` Ah, there it is. Now he understands you, brother mine. I suspect he now knows what we are, if not who.'' The shorter of the two seemed more serious than his brother, less flippant and frivolous. `` Ah, terribly sorry about that, mortal. I am Michael, and this is my brother Lucifer.'' Lucifer?! Like the Devil? I glanced fearfully at the smaller one, and then back to the liquid metal of the taller one, Michael, he said his name was. `` Haha!'' He barked out a laugh. `` Luci, that will never get old for me. They are all so afraid of you!'' Lucifer looked more sullen now, bordering on upset. `` Oh don't be so upset, brother. He couldn't possibly know.'' Lucifer seemed to calm a bit, looking less angry and more resigned. I tried to finally find my voice. `` Sorry, but isn't he the bad guy?'' I was trying not to look at Lucifer, afraid he'd take my soul or something equally bad. `` You mortals, always so obsessed with him being the Fallen. That was your story, that you invented and believed. He has always been my brother, nothing more or less.'' Michael seemed to be losing his patience now, irate on behalf of his brother, it seemed. `` The task, brother mine. He didn't pray for a history lesson.'' Lucifer seemed to be", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 493, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0632", "text": "I sat down on my bed, watching the fatigued workers jostle through the crowd, mindlessly heading home. I say bed, but cardboard boxes aren't exactly the best memory foam mattress. A lady dropped some loose change into my bucket before heading her way, her heels clicking on the tiled floor. Snow speckled her ebony hair, just a taste of what was to come this winter. I sighed, gathering my blanket, or what was left of it, tightly around me. It'd be cold tonight, from the looks of it. Announcements blared over the speakers - not very effectively, I admit - not that it mattered to me. It must've been about some train, for the herd quickened their pace, shoving their way through down to the platform. A well-dressed man tripped over my blanket, murmuring a quick ( and insincere ) apology vexedly before going his way. Just another unpleasant journey home for them, a daily reality for me. The crisp smell of the winter night mixed with the musty stench of hard work smelled like home to me, after all these years. I looked up, staring at the flickering yellow lights. In all the years I'd been here, they'd never replaced the dusty lamps. Sure would be inconvenient, if one of them just decided to bite the dust. The warm, ancient glow was however mildly comforting on this otherwise cheerless night. Appreciate what you have, as my mother always said. The gentle hum of silence slowly pulled me back to reality. Well, that was something new. Pinching myself to make sure that I hadn't just fallen asleep, I peered around bemusedly as I came to 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0633", "text": "`` 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 the light.'' She told him. `` I don't want to.'' He said, watching the embers form in the cracks the light was carving into his flesh. His wings smoked. `` We were happy.'' He screamed at the universe. We. Were. HAPPY!'' He bellowed, even as his feathers burned away. `` No.'' She bawled. `` NO. We were happy.'' Caspeella declared, taking her lovers hand. Her touch made him burn hotter. The light inside her was like torch and burned his demon's flesh away. She cradled his bones as he collapsed. She felt the tread of angels at her back. The gathered to mourn her loss. `` We were happy.'' She screamed at Michael. Gabriel stepped forward, laying a quieting hand upon her shoulder. `` The light changes everything.'' Gabriel told her quietly. `` It had to be. God said, let there be light. We are the light. We have to be the light. What comes next needs us.'' `` NO!'' She roared. `` I was happy!'' Her eyes, once blue, darkened even as the other angels looked on. `` He had no right.'' Michael reached out for her, but she turned away. Her wings and skin greyed like ash, and the further she fled from them, the darker she became. `` WE WERE HAPPY!'' She roared, breaking planets with her rage. `` This had to happen. Right?'' Michael asked of Gabriel. `` For there to be life, there had to be light,'' was his answer. `` I will miss her.'' Gabriel lamented. `` And, I fear when next we meet.'' Michael sighed,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0634", "text": "Thomas pressed the flat of his hand against a crease in his trousers. His mother, were she not now in a box being covered in dirt, would have scolded him for letting them wrinkle. But he was a man, now, thirteen years old, and could do with his trousers whatever he liked, and that included leaving them in a crumpled mess by the fire. Certainly he could now, since she was dead. And father had left the house for good after the first black spots had appeared on the backs of his hands. To protect the family, he said. But it was less than a month before mother was scratching bleeding black patches of skin just under the neck of dress. Another couple of days before they were on her face, and a few days more before today. Her box was joined by many others. The funerals were scheduled. A monthly gathering of the nearby villages. The cemetery was on the top of a hill behind the church at the far reach of Adam Tillson's farm, and tripled in size since Thomas's memory began. Still, it was well kept, and the abundance of flowers by the engraved stone slabs and freshly wet grass from south England's dependable rain gave the scene an ironically cheerful setting. He cursed himself and promised a confession for finding it beautiful. Thomas was a man now. Thirteen years old. He cursed himself again as a he felt the tears forming beneath his eyelids. Grown men did n't cry, he reminded himself, feeling the lump grow in his throat. A woman beside him wailed loudly as a child's box was lowered with ropes into the group grave. She wore black and obscured her face with a large black tissue. There were twenty people there besides the father, who was reading in Latin from the Bible. Twenty was nearly all was left from the villages. The rumor had begun earlier in the year that those who survived were protected by God Almighty. Thomas preferred that thought to the one's who claimed that this was the reckoning, and only sinners would be left to roam the Devil's planet.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 423, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0635", "text": "Gosh, is n't he good looking? He's just so handsome and strong. And brave, too! Supermegaman is the most awesomest hero that there ever was! He can fly faster than a speeding bullet AND is the world's greatest detective and how about that fancy magic ring of his! And it's just like he said. Everyone can be a hero. We just have to believe in ourselves and stand up for what is right. And then we'll be heroes, too! Well, mostly Supermegaman will be THE hero and the rest of us have just have to get out of his way. But though it will be mostly Supermegaman who will save the day, we can do our part, too. With that evil supervillain, Zod Bane the Joker, on the loose, we will never be totally safe. I mean, sure, a few city blocks will get demolished, millions of nameless people ( which most likely I will be one of ) will either become homeless or will die just so that Supermegaman can save his really hot maybe/maybe-not girlfriend all the while fighting, but refusing to kill the one bad guy who constantly threatens and successfully kills us on an almost daily basis because Supermegaman has taken an oath to never take a life. But hey, who cares? It's Supermegaman! He's the symbol of hope! He's what we aspire to be! We all love him. *I* love him. Gosh, is n't he just swell? I'm sorry what was that? Are n't I upset that my life is a movie and that I am neither the protagonist nor the antagonist but a mere afterthought? Excuse me! Excuse! Me! Of course, I realize it. But look at him! It's Supermegaman. If you're not kissing the ground that he walks on, then I have to wonder what YOUR problem is. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go be in a building that is about to be disintegrated by a giant laser beam from space. Good day!", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 430, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0636", "text": "The more I read them, the more they began to make sense. Theories on topics I formerly knew nothing about. The knowledge was coming to me in my darkest hours. Ideas that spit in the face of modern physics. Proofs the disproved decades old theories. They were all wrong. What I had could change the way we thought about the world.The way we interacted with the world. It could revolutionise transportation, medicine, energy, everything could change. I had to show someone. I drove to Cambridge. To M.I.T. The best and brightest minds in the country. Surely if anyone could understand what I had, they could. They would take one look at what I had and fall to their knees in awe of the brillance. They would hoist me on their shoulders and make statues in my honor. But that ’ s not what I wanted. I just wanted confirmation that what was happening to me was real. Information was flowing into me, my brain was working on a different level. No. They took one look and scoffed. Some wouldn't even look. I was dismissed over and over again. I thought that maybe the information was too complex to understand. I had to find someone who could understand, someone I could trust. I had to show someone. I saw Dr. Hoffmanshire as I was leaving. Well, really, he saw me first. I looked up and there he was. His small eyes peering through his glasses, thick beard and corduroy jacket made him look like a stereotypical professor. He said the he was very interested at looking at my theories, and proceeded to pull them out from under my arm. As we sat in my car, he told me that these proofs looked different that anything he had ever seen. He agreed that this would change the world. Dr. Hoffmanshire was with me. We proceeded to drive to other colleges, universities, lecture halls, coffee shops, anywhere where we could be heard. We were either wholly ignored, or asked to leave. The proofs were getting too complex. Dr. Hoffamnshire was struggling to comprehend the full scope of them; the implications. I still had a grasp on them, but I knew soon the complexity of it all would make them useless to us. Still we drove on. We knew eventually someone would listen to us. Dr. Hoffmanshire was with me. After a particularly heavy session, I awoke to a scene that I", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0637", "text": "Thankfully the theater bathroom was empty as he rushed inside and found the urinal. One perk of having to use it right in the middle of a showing. He let a slow breath as he relieved himself. Dammit, he needed to hurry up, Deadpool and Deathstroke were about to cross paths and he was missing it because his pea-sized bladder couldn ’ t hold anymore. He started looking around, trying to take his mind off the fact he was missing what had to be the most epic fight in cinema history. The bathroom had patches of slightly off-color paint across the walls and dividers covering up some graffiti. Naturally, there was some that had been added since they last passed a paintbrush through here. The graffiti carried the usual notes: “ *Call X for a good time* ”, “ *X & Y 4-eva* ”, “ *X iz ghay* ”. “ Wow, ‘ X ’ sure has been busy, ” he thought. One in particular caught his eye: “ *Protulit ex inferno* ”. As well as the small caption below it: “ *summons items from Hell* ”. He let out a short snicker. Yeah, right. Sounds like something that kid from 4th period - who even carried around a ‘ spellbook ’ - would dream up. His business finished up, he zipped his pants back up and lightly tapped the handle of the urinal with his fist, flushing it. He rushed over to the sink, turned on the tap and wet his hands. “ Prostitute ex infer- I mean, *pro-tu-lit ex inferno*, ” he muttered while grinning. His hands sufficiently wet, his shoved one under the soap dispenser, and used the other to pump it. Nothing came out. “ Come on, ” he muttered as he pumped it again, “ how ‘ bout some damn soap! ” At once, a generous portion of some thick, red-ish liquid was deposited on his hand. He couldn ’ t quite place the smell of it, but whatever it was, it was *strong*. Exhaling as he smeared it around both of his hands, he set them under the flow of water and started to wash it off. Hands cleaned, he elected to dry them on his jeans as he jogged out instead of using the air-dryer. Those things took forever and never finished the job anyway. edit: typo", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0638", "text": "Even down to some of the emplacement formations. He was ready, the Alpha was confident. With the fleet each having their jobs, the Alpha's task force navigated from the herd. Fury was the objective. Fury would be the break through point. `` I will break them over my knee'' PART 6: `` WELL THEN PULL THE STENCHING MANUAL RELEASE APE! HUMAN HANDS HELP ME! I GET THIS AT MUNCH TIME!'' `` I'M sorry KAPPA! Releasing manual now. Electrolocks releasing, shes down the shoot... apologies Kappa.'' The strafer cracked from its stasis on top of the hull of the monstrous Alpha-Ark. The craft was nothing but a blip cascading down the side of the command vessel. It rode its magnetic rails towards the jump portals that were beginning to come into existence below the ship. Each portal led to a specific point. Each ships jumped from its nest and road the fall into the flash of the unknown. Protective paneling all over the ship began to shift and realign. Some floated into positions protecting the craft leaving for the portals, just in case. Others simply moved to allow the Alpha-Arks devastating arsenal to stretch after its stasis slumber. `` You said you were ready young one. That's not the way to show it.'' `` I can understand! I'm just... In Learners the sims never failed past backup 4...'' The ape wore shame like it was the uniform around him. `` This isn't the sims. Shes an old boat, Xi Bron. She like things done with your palms. Just get used to it.'' The pork settles into his chair, rapping a couple buttons before picking up a set of goggles without straps or lens. As soon as the Kappa set the visual system on his face, the goggles adhered and mini projections of the ships schematics and tactical read began to pop in and out at different depths in his vision. The novaswine had learned to filter most of this out and his eyes only twitch when something truly worth his notice caught his attention. His apprentice's look had one of bewilderment. His pupils nearly matched his heart rate while they loosened and tightened as the noveape tried in vain to take in everything. This was another problem with the Learners sims. They never dream big enough. This novice has never seen this much chatter. I bet this ape is trying to", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0639", "text": "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. She can feel it. Maybe she wishes it. She doesn ’ t know. He says nothing. “ I ’ m afraid, ” she says. It comes as a surprise to her, because she is always afraid -- these days she is always afraid and there is nothing that isn ’ t confusing and there is nothing that isn ’ t scary, but this is special. This is a different kind of scary. This is the type of scary that means that sometimes it ’ s like suffocating, and she can't breathe, and if she can't hold on to anything - if she can't even hold onto ~~him~~ - then isn't she already dead? Suddenly she is crying. `` Sarah,'' he says. It takes her a second to remember that that is her name and then she is crying even more, in great, shuddery breaths. She was somebody. She was Sarah. She doesn't know her last name but she was Sarah. `` I was somebody,'' she tells him, and it is so small and so weak and she doesn't know anything anymore but she knows that she was somebody and she -- she doesn't know who that somebody is. But she needs to have mattered. She has to have mattered. `` What?'' `` I was somebody. And I don't even know who that is. And I don't know -- I don't -- when I die, what if nobody remembers?'' what if she just never existed? What if she dies and nobody... `` What if I die, and I just don't exist? What if I die and I've got *no* friends, and *no* family, and the only", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 489, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0640", "text": "ship, he'd have seen the scarred, dark ship outlined against the blue-green disk it was now orbiting. He would have seen large engines cycle off again and the ship begin the ballet of deceleration and the jettisoning of the pods toward the surface of the planet. He was, however, busy throwing up. The old one approached the desk and chimed at the terminal which blinked rapidly through several operations and another panel ont he desk opened. This one held a wire harness which the old one expertly slid onto Saluy's head. Saluy had just time to wipe his mouth, realize something was on his head and reach out to touch the trailing wire running from the headpiece to the desk before he heard the old one say: **Initiate upload** and his world fractured. The upload contained so much information that to go into each item would be impossible. The gist was this, in a fraction of a second Saluy learned that the gods had not forsaken them, but had sent them to a newly discovered ( 1000 years ago, newly discovered that is ) planet to colonize it. That the ships computer had been damaged in a revolt led by the Security staff and had gone almost entirely dormant, judging that navigation and life support would be the only systems that could not be terminated. Saluy received the equivalent of a doctoral education in Engineering and a complete briefing of the scans of and findings on the planet they were now descending to. The old one stood behind him as hisbody jerked and shuddered, his teeth chattered and his eyes rolled in his head. Its clamp hands secured him to the chair as the ship settled into orbit and corrected the decay into the planets atmosphere. Below, 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0641", "text": "through it. Darryn looked sad too but I knew things would get better eventually. He'd find another job. He gave me a hug before he turned to go. Then I went back to my room, although I got a little lost on the way. I did see a group of three women with kind voices though, so I went to ask them. `` I'm a little lost,'' I said. `` Can you help me find my room?'' A man walked up and the women waved him over, `` She's lost,'' they said. He smiled broadly and looked at me. `` Hi, Lost, my name is Bart.'' I smiled back at him. His voice was so nice. `` I'm lost, do you know where my room is?'' His smile faltered and he looked at the women near him. `` I,'' he started then he coughed and cleared his throat. > There are three parts to every story. The beginning, the middle, and the twist. > [ More by me ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/kj6bwb/ ) ( ( Alzheimer's is the twist. There's nothing I can do to make it more startling or more surprising or any other kind of twist. If you have some extra money, please donate to [ the Alzheimer's Association ] ( http: //www.alz.org/join_the_cause_donate.asp? utm_source=KJ6BWB-reddit ). I don't get any money from it and won't benefit from it in any way, unless I or a loved one get Alzheimer's. `` Then why's your name in the link?'' Just to have fun with their metrics and identify myself. ) )", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 349, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0642", "text": "was still trying to process. Car keys. The security checkpoint, just inside the gates. Flaming swords. And bronze armor. And then it clicked, and I chuckled despite the pain. I knew what I had to do. If I made it through this, I knew what I had to do. It took months. First convalescence, and then research, and then worming my way into every favor and secret I could find in the secretive ranks of the Quantum Tunneling Transit Administration. But finally, I stood on the room-sized pad of the teleporter I operated day in and day out. Julie was at the controls, running down the checklist I had written on a notepad and walked her through over and over until I was confident she had it down. I nervously gripped the assault rifle in my hands. Sweat trickled down my back under the body armor I had stolen from the guard station. Then the smell of ozone filled the air, the beginning of a flash... And suddenly I was in Paris, standing in a roomful of myself. Five hundred copies of me, crammed into the pad chamber, each armed and armored. Because that was the secret. The secret that could collapse the world economy as we knew it. The secret they thought was the important one. If we were just duplicating people, there was no reason to stop with one. But I knew a more important secret than that, and I was just getting started. One of me opened the operator booth of the Paris chamber and started preparing it to transmit. I had all night to work before the security window closed and I had to be gone. So for those long hours, five hundred Christopher Millers died every two seconds. By the time the last batch was annihilated, leaving only a single new copy in the New York chamber with Julie, the eastern sky was beginning to glow outside. As we slipped out of the facility, I felt a glimmer of hope for the first time since I died. Because next time, when I die for good, I expect to be shaking my own hand at the gates.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 425, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0643", "text": "Not what, who. You will. Well, eventually. There's a long list of things you need to do, first, to get there. Spiritual growth. Physical growth. A trip to 2193 to get surgically induced immortality, from a specialist with a policy of only doing one surgery every ten thousand years, at a specific and exact time. Don't be late to *that* appointment. Things of that nature.'' ``... how, grams?'' She wordlessly tapped her rocking chair, drawing my attention down to it. `` **I** invented time travel. Don't forget it. And this is *my* gate. Built it when I was a little girl. I guess I should have named it... so how about Emilia Sanchez Temporality Altering Drive, Gate Nulla?'' I gawped. `` You can hit the button on that watch now. Well, maybe give it a few more minutes, just to make a safe margin. Remember: don't blab about how gates work. And above that, *never* mention that an earlier model exists, with the ability to go backwards even further and make even greater changes. You'll figure out how eventually.'' She gestured towards my machine suddenly. `` In fact, you already have.'' I looked back over, numbly marveling at how different the machine looked. `` Um...'' `` Oh, I recognize that particular piece over there. Filtration device from after the Alpha Gate was shattered. Probably set up to prevent a particular time from being visited. You'll likely explain it as a bug in the hardware, or some kind of temporal lock, or... well, come up with your own mumbo jumbo, it ain't like they can call you out on it, right?'' I nodded weakly. `` And I installed that... will install that... will have once installed that...'' `` It'll be a confusing life for you, boy. And it starts when you hit that button on your watch, you won't have even a second to spare once you have all the time in the world. Just make sure you visit your old grams from time to time before I die.'' I sat down, shakily. `` Incidentally, January 2nd, 2025. The funeral will be lovely, I suppose I'll see you there, at a minimum. Try not to flirt with ol' grams too much,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0644", "text": "I open my eyes, and my gaze sweeps across the Broadway billboards, the huge flickering video screens, the store signs ( *Walgreens*, they scream, *H & M* ), the glassy windows that reflect the cloudless blue sky. My eyes settle on a street sign, its letters white on fading green: *Times Square*. The wave of noise crests over me: ten thousand people laughing with their friends, yelling into their smartphones in frustration, snapping away with their fancy cameras, shooting dirty looks and muttered curses at the crowded streets. My right foot takes a step of its own accord. My left follows. Soon, I am walking at a brisk pace towards 7th Avenue, oblivious to the people who stumble out of my way. As I stop at the intersection, I realize that there is nobody there. I cast my eyes around me, but the bustling crowds have vanished, replaced by a suffocating silence. Or perhaps they were never there. But when I turn back around to cross the street, horns are blaring and cars and trucks and taxis are racing up and down the street. The traffic light changes, and the single pedestrian waiting to cross on the other side starts walking towards me. She does not see what I see. She does not see the van, colored an olive green that has faded with the years. She does not see the small pits and scratches that adorn its side mirrors, its windshield, the paint job. She does not see the lettering on its side, outlined in white and blue: *Iomhain Plumbing and Electrical, since 1984*. She does not see the empty driver ’ s seat, nor the steering wheel jerking back and forth of its own volition. She does not see the van, although it is hurtling at something like sixty miles per hour straight towards her. I stretch out my hand towards her, as if I could somehow reach far enough to touch her, to grab her and drag her to safety. But it is as if the air has become corn syrup and time has become ice, and I can only watch, horrified, as I struggle to lift my arm. I scream a warning, but as my voice tears from my throat, it simply stops dead in a still bubble coming from my lips. All I can do is see. I see the woman ’ s hair, brown at the roots and pulled up in a blotchy blonde ponytail. I see the lines that cre", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0645", "text": "’ t Apaxus. “ Yes, thank you! We ’ re perfectly fine, ” I said cheerily. It seemed that Zamanatopael was in charge. Suddenly my arm jerked forward and my grande iced mocha with a shot of espresso flew away. The drink hit the woman right on her bosom, exploding through the plastic. She was drenched in coffee from head to toe. She looked at me furiously and shouted something akin to what the barista had written on my drink. She quickly slapped me and looked down, trying to assess the damage to her outfit. *Zamanatopael! Why did you do that? * I demanded of my mind. « That wasn ’ t me, » the angel replied. « I only took control of your words. It must have been Apaxus, unless you suddenly decided to ruin that woman ’ s day. » { I don ’ t know what you ’ re talking about, } the demon said indignantly. *Well it sure wasn ’ t me. * { Alright, fine. I admit it. You caught me. *I* threw the drink. } I couldn ’ t help but wonder why he was being so dramatic, but if either of them heard it they didn ’ t bother replying. Zamanatopael started to yell at Apaxus, but I cut in. *Listen guys, I get that you ’ re trying to do your jobs and all but I need to live my life. At this rate, I ’ ll be late for my job. So could you please stop bickering and just… I don ’ t know, hang out in my head and say you did your job? * « I most certainly can not do that. I am an angel! That would be lying, and lying is one of the Ten Commandments. Breaking that rule is one of the worst offenses, especially when everything needs to remain organized so that things work smoothly. If I lied, who knows that the effects could be? It might throw off the lives of those around you, and create a chain reaction. Who knows how many people could be turned away by Saint Peter in the long run, all because I didn ’ t do my job. I am sorry for any inconvenience, Thomas, but it ’ s for the greater good. » { Yeah, sorry buddy. I ’ m gon na have to agree with Zamana-whatever over here. If I lied", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0646", "text": "you change it to then? ” Sean asked, almost in flirtatiously. “ Jane ” she said with a pause. “ Plain Jane, that ’ s the name for me ” she said sweetly. I love you Sean thought. How can I love you, if I want to kill you? “ Well, I like either of them. They both suit you ” Sean replied, now feeling uneasy about what the night held for him. What was happening to him? How could he even feel like this? I will go through with this, it ’ s what I want, it ’ s what I need! He told himself. He began to struggle to find himself, he looked at his watch, ten minutes had passed, and he needed to get going if he wanted this to happen. Just before he went to ask her a question she got a flask out of her backpack. She looked at him and smiled. “ I ’ m not a big drinker but I find this warms me up. ” She went to take a swig but then paused “ Sorry, I ’ m so rude. Would you like some? ” She said her eyes still so sad. I love you, I love you, I love you! Sean sang to himself. Maybe a drink will help? I have to go through with this! “ Sure, why not? ” Sean said shrugging casually. He took three decent gulps and handed it back. “ Bottoms up ” She said, smiling at him in such a way that made him feel sick. Sean took a road taking them further from town, unbeknownst to Amity. Not long now my sweet Amity, I ’ ll make it as painless as possible He 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0647", "text": "The room sat several thousands of people, centered around an holographic display on a stage. No one needed to present, one person was in charge of moving the holographs around, revealing dozens of images of the worlds beyond this solar system. No man has ever set foot beyond Jupiter, yet they managed to send five-hundred thousand robots to fly to other solar systems in the galaxy. Why waste a life or a few thousands just to fly in space of nothing for a few several hundred months when they could send robots who can do the job just as well, if not better and faster? On these displays held the attention of all in the room. Only a team of four people had seen them before, and now many thousands will see them for the first time. All the robots had reached their destinations and discovered a few worlds in each system. The robots were sent to solar systems containing Earth-like planets and have them investigate the surface of these places. People began to murmur when they saw a tower on planet Gaea. The murmuring increased as more buildings revealed themselves on other planets. Several dozen of planets appeared and disappeared in the air on the holographic display. Each planet stayed in the air for five minutes, zooming in closer to the surface and out to see the entire planet again. The last planet faded from view two hours later, and the room fell silent again, most people shocked and stunned by what they saw. `` What is the meaning of this?'' one person asked in the front row seat. A scientist who helped launch the robots. Like a spell, the room burst into loud conversations—debates, expressions of shock, questions being asked, and no response could satisfy them all. A loud gonging sound rang through the stadium seating style room, and the audience fell into a hushed whispers, unable to stop themselves from discussing the planets they viewed. `` This, ladies and gentlemen, is the proof that we are not alone,'' he said, showing one planet. As he continued to talk, the planet rotated. `` The thing is, all of these planets show the buildings in ruin. No one is alive. They're all dead planets.'' `` But why are they all in ruins? How do we know for sure they are not hiding?'' `` We have been examining the planets for a year,'' he answered. `` There have been no movement. On all 428 planets. Of the 500 we sent, only 72 did not make it", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0648", "text": "She smiled politely and asked what she could do for us. `` Hi, I'm Mrs. Ford and this is my daughter, and I received a call this morning about my husband...'' I trailed off. The girl was now staring at me with her mouth slightly agape, unable to find any words to respond. I stood, unsure of what to do. Beside me, Jess cleared her throat awkwardly. `` Um... right,'' she managed. `` You two can follow me back this way. Mrs. Ford, your husband is already awake, and he has been asking for you.'' I tried to take a deep breath, but it felt like all of the air had been sucked out of the room. I nodded in return, and Jess and I followed her down the short hallway to a closed door labeled recovery. `` I'll give you two some privacy. Go on in whenever you are ready,'' she whispered before returning to her desk, Jess had grabbed my hand and was looking at me with concern. `` Mom...?'' she asked uncertainly. `` Are you ready to meet your dad?'' I said, mustering a small smile. A tear slipped out of her eye, but she returned the smile as best she could. I placed my hand over the knob, and forced myself to turn it. The air inside the room was stale, and the TV was on too loud, but there he was. Alive. There was the beautiful boy that I had told all my secrets to, the one I had kissed under the stars so many times. There was my husband, breathing, smiling, no more cancer coursing through his blood, no more hurt apparent on his face. I stepped into the room, and he glanced my way. A look of confusion barely flashed across his face before a huge smile replaced. `` There's my girl,'' he laughed, immediately filling the emptiness that had lived inside me.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 388, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0649", "text": "most people remember of normalcy actually come to think of it. Well that was the night maintenance was replacing the faucets in the bathrooms with new touch-less ones. Enter Charles, a burly man no more older than I. His real name I soon found out was not really `` Charles'' but since he was an illegal from Canada ( borders were shut down after we evolved remember? ) he changed his name to protect himself and get a fake social security number. Anyways Charles enters the room and startles me, so much so that I lose control of my focus and cause him to shit himself. I attempt to apologize but am shocked to see him stripping off his clothes as they themselves go up in flames! He confides that his ability is, in his words `` I dun turn shit to napalm''. Now at first we thought it was kind of funny, he can't go into public restrooms while others are using them for fear of starting someones asshole on fire. I can't be around people without worrying I'm going to make them shit themselves. Together we're just, bad karma I guess. Everything seemed to be going ok, both of us had our abilities ( if you want to call them that ) under control. That is until we heard the fire alarms going off. For whatever reason, our powers were magnified and constantly active as soon as we both triggered them in each others presence! It didn't take long for the screaming to start and by the time we made our way outside we saw the ring of fire spreading rapidly. We both stood and watched as the surrounding buildings started alarming, windows blowing open as flames shot out. It spread faster and faster until the entire night sky glowed amber and the stench of shit and burned flesh filled our nostrils. The city was in chaos in just an hour, news reporters on TV suddenly burst into flames as they tried to asses what was happening around the country. The last transmission we received was via Telemundo around midnight before a European soccer match ended with the players no longer chasing a ball, but running off the field with flames shooting from their asses. We burned the world down! It seemed like it was going to go on for ever, those who were safe while swimming or bathing at that moment wouldn't be safe for long if we let it continue. I seek your forgiveness for what we have done and hope the world won't judge me to harshly for the decision i had to", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0650", "text": "for her. What should I do. No. I ’ m not letting her die. The doctor said she got a month before the medication must be in place. I don ’ t know what to do. 4.2.2016 Sunny There is a… ‘ job offer ’ from a guy in the back alley. They promise good pay. They said I can sign up before seventh. All I have to do is drive a car, for a certain group in a certain time. I don ’ t know. I might take it, but even if I take it I ’ m not sure the money they pay will be clean. But Elena, she ’ s getting worse. 4.3.2016 Sunny Elena won ’ t be happy if I take that job. No, I ’ m not taking it. She seems to get better than before. She is so beautiful… I can ’ t afford to lost her. I must figure out something. 4.4.2016 Cloudy The Panama Papers! Just like I thought there must be something in it I can write about! Turns out there is, but not like what I thought. Not politicians. It ’ s Batman. A lot of offshore company clearly indicates where those equipment Batman uses came from, it didn ’ t go anywhere else but straight to his house. He is Mr. W. How does no one know? It will be big money, and Elena is getting worse again. But Mr. W, he saved me a couple times, and he saved Elena too. How can I sell him out? I must talk to my S.V. 4.5.2016 Rainy The moment I tell my supervisor about the story, he closes the curtains of his office. We talk about Batman, mister W., and the situation Elena is. The S.V. told me the identity of Batman Must be kept. I ’ m partly in relieve. He gives me an amount of money, not enough for Elena, but enough for me to shut up. I thought I was at least a little closer to have enough money for Elena. But what happens when we finish our discussion, my S.V. open the curtains again! I saw a black figure flashes through. I ’ m sure it ’ s Batman. The night I receive a call from the hospital. All the fees Elena needs are paid by some unknown person, and she ’ ll mostly possible to be fine in no time. The", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0651", "text": "for months - sometimes years - before butchering the innocent young. He was satiated, content with the responsibility some cruel God had silently given him those decades back. Now, each leap had become labored. Tedious killings helped pass the time, but tormenting the weak had become too simple to satiate his demonic need for chaos. To land on fertile ground and discover a deluge of cliched nightmares was akin to biting into a steak and finding it filled with cigarette ash. But this place was new. It wasn't that all he saw was darkness. No. It was that there was nothing for the darkness to exist in. Indeed, as he looked down, he realized that he had subconsciously created the platform he was standing on. If not for this, he would have fallen into... whatever it was beneath. He walked to the jagged edges of the platform and looked out. His skull began to crack, lengthen and narrow outward until it resembled a grotesque telescope with his bulbous eye at the tail end. He glassed the area around him, his putrid iris flitting back in forth in the socket. Blackness. He tried to teleport to a new spot in the dream, but instantly found himself on the same platform again. Kreuger, who had become used to feeling a deity in these dream worlds, sat down. A vacuous silence beat against his scarred ears. 5 minutes, 5 decades, there was no distinction in the world of a dream. Krueger often used this to his advantage, carving his victims methodically for what seemed like days, but in all reality may have only been a few minutes of their dreaming. Time was a weapon for him. But 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0652", "text": "of our funds'' and argued that there would be `` little use of such a road''. So that's they feel, huh. A village of a few hundred people are nothing to them. I had no responsibilities, no wife, no girlfriend, no kids, nothing. I quit my job in Telostria and returned to the village of my childhood reveries. I armed myself with a shovel, a sledgehammer and a wheelbarrow. If no one is gon na build that damn tunnel, then I'll build it myself. People take village folk for granted sometimes. What they don't realize is the extreme degree of patronage and familial ties they have. In many ways, there are selfless. My uncle and aunt weren't too happy with what I was doing but, just so that I could be at peace, they agreed to have their doors open for me whenever I needed the familial support. I stayed at my mother's place, and my neighbors, out of genuine concern, kept in giving me a part of their agricultural surpluses. But the greatest support they gave me was when I was faced with my greatest enemy. The Ministry of Transports heard reports of a tunnel being dug under the plateau, probably from the yearly geological survey. They sent their representatives to try and stop me, all dressed in their black suits and ties. They were met with nothing but hostility from the village folk. City people were not always welcome in the village. These high-class civil servants were the enemies of the people, according to many. They tried their best to drive them away, even resorting to giving them spoilt food just to give them food poisoning. No one told them where my place was, and no one gave them any form of support whatsoever. They then had the brains to find me in the tunnel at midday. They asked me to stop doing what I was doing. I asked them why. They said I was destroying nature and public property. I laughed. I told them to get the hell out. They threatened to use force and call the police. I smiled and told them, `` The village'police' aren't government-tied and won't follow your commands, and the nearest police station you can call is 70 kilometers away on a road filled with bumps and holes. Are you sure you want to call them now?'' Silenced, they threatened to be back a while later, and this time they would come with law", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0653", "text": "the gold chain he wore hidden inside a book by Wilbur Smith, the middle of the pages scored out, creating a secret cavity. [ Please note that with a complexity involved in a multiplicity of identities, there is a tendency for the pronoun ‘ I ’ to slip into the plural. ] Having established the fact that I was both sender and recipient, the letter went on to give several instructions. One: To gather my emergency provisions. Two: To call in sick at work. Three: To look outside the bathroom window at exactly 11:42 and check for three guys who would be walking towards the back entrance of the apartment block. Four: To head up to the roof of the block. Locate the third ventilator and find a box taped to the underside. Five: To find Professor Tchaikonov and give him the box. What do you do if you receive a letter from yourself, with information only you can know, telling you to do things you don ’ t understand? I ’ ll tell you. First, you freak out. Then you phone friends. Then you launch yourself onto the internet, trying to find out some kind of correlation, some kind of link. You find nothing. So you turn to social media. You ask around. And while you ’ re waiting for a response from some doped up man living half way around the world who thinks he gets ‘ where you ’ re coming from ’ you gather your emergency provisions. You look at the letter over and over again. You write out the letter yourself and match up each individual word. You look at your watch. You try to find out who the hell Professor Tchaikonov is but with no luck, because of course it couldn ’ t be that easy. So you call up work and you tell them you ’ re sick and the irony is you have actually started to develop a headache because this shit is all so unreal. And then you look at your watch and you search online frantically, waiting for this person known only as Fishdick123 to reply, and when he doesn ’ t you go to the bathroom and you look out of the window and you see three guys walking towards your apartment block and suddenly you ’ re like HOLY SHIT I ’ M IN THE MATRIX. And then you run, because you don ’ t know what to do. You run to the top of the apartment and out onto the roof. You head to the ventilator and sure enough there ’ s", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0654", "text": "( To be safe, I'm labeling this NSFW ) `` Now then... How shall we begin?'' I awoke only a few minutes ago with a pounding headache, naked and tied to a chair in a dark basement. The man standing before me was impeccably dressed in a well-tailored suit and snappy shoes. He was brandishing a red-hot iron in front of my face. `` Branding is traditional,'' he said waving the iron around in the air, `` and I daresay, I quite enjoy starting with it. It sort of... Makes you mine, you know?'' He grinned. `` But for you... I think I'll do something special. After all, you were very hard to get a hold of.'' I tried to scream... To call for help in complete desperation that someone, anyone, would hear me. The sound was muffled. This madman had gagged me. There was no begging for mercy. The man surveyed his various tools and instruments. Picking them up one by one and scruntizing them. Even though my vision was still blurry from whatever he drugged me with, I could still tell his devices and blades were far from surgical. They were rusty, dirty, bloody too, like he used them all before and never cleaned them. `` Maybe we'll start big,'' he said as he picked up a long nail. My eyes widened with terror as he stepped quickly towards me. With one hand he held my head still and slowly inched the nail closer to my eye. I swear, it was mere millimeters away when he pulled back. `` Nah... Too sensitive. Don't get me wrong, we'll get to that, but I'm a man who likes to build up.'' He walked over to the corner of the room and picked up a large hammer. He swung it over his shoulder and began strolling towards me once again. I began to panic as he got closer. He stood just off to the side and brought the hammer down until it just touched my foot. He began to act like he was about to tee-off against my foot. As he raised the hammer into the air about to swing down, he laughed a maniacal laugh before feignting the swing and bringing the hammer back to rest over his shoulder. I was crying and panting heavily through the cloth that was stuffed in my mouth. A stream of hot urine trickled down my leg. `` Ooo!", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0655", "text": "`` You there, girl.'' The words slithered out from underneath the bed. `` Where are the ones that look tonight? It seems tragic that i might have to gobble you up and make you into delicious stew. Oh, how absolutely scrumptious you will be.'' no reply. A few sobs were heard from under the covers. `` Is the Girl no longer afraid?'' It muttered. `` Fine! I shall rip away your skin bit by bit, suck the marrow from your bones, and use them to pick your flesh from my teeth. By the morning your mother will be in tears for her'little angel' is no more!'' The words like the howling of the wind filled the room. `` Go away'' a small, sad voice penetrated the silence. `` I'm afraid I can't hear you.'' `` Go away!'' `` What was that? Your plea falls on deaf ears.'' `` Go away! It won't matter if I'm dead or not, she won't even be here in the morning.'' It stepped out from under the bed, like the sound of a branch tapping at a window It filled the room. She could feel the hot, sour breath on the back of her neck. Her skin itched, but she dared not touch it, she turned slowly and looked the darkness in the eyes. It, admittedly felt rather uncomfortable. `` What was that?'' `` She's not coming back'' she yelled into the darkness. `` It's all my fault, they were fighting and, I got scared and ran, and they kept fighting.'' She continued to talk, choking out word after word, tears running down her face. A torrent of incomprehensible noise and inaudible words were spoken that only she and the darkness could understand. There was silence. A long painful silence. `` Sometimes I think that life is more scary than the bogeyman'' she said. She could feel it nod in agreement. `` I think my time here is up, young one.'' `` What do you mean?'' `` You no longer need your monster under the bed, with any luck I will be gone with the rising sun.'' `` You can't leave!'' `` Ah, but I must. You are grown up.'' The sun was almost up, the time had come for It to leave. `` But I'm not that old yet'' said the Girl. `` But you have grown, you have no need to", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0656", "text": "# # # # # # [ ] ( # dropcap ) Keller checked her suit seals a third time. Even with the improvements to the zero-G flight armor, they still were a bit dodgy around the seals. She tapped her helmet out of ritual and continued her pre-flight ceremony. The Sino-Ruski carrier was still a hundred thousand kilometers out and closing. It was rare they bothered with deep system flights like this, but the Brass had been very queer since the last Io expedition. Now the Old Cold War games were heating up again, but on the other side of the belt. Major Marie `` Valkyrie'' Keller knew the Admiral wouldn't order fighter launch until the *Xian III* was within at least quarter fuel distance, so about 25,000 kilometers out. *Combat maneuvers do burn up so much reactant, * she contemplated checking to make sure the deckhand had topped her off with both core reactant and emergency maneuvering propellant. `` Nothing quite like jetting out on a contained nuclear bomb,'' she muttered to herself. Her computer registered that the *Xian III* was now 50,000 kilometers out and closing. `` Bastards are at full thrust,'' she called out over her squadron comms, `` Their active ping is hot, they are lazing the *Eisenhower. * Is everyone ready to launch in the next five?'' One by one the members of her squadron called out their ready status, which she echoed to launch control. `` We've got the green to cut loose in five minutes, thirty. Admiral doesn't want to provoke a war here boys and girls. Keep it tight on launch, double-diamond on my flanks with 500 meter dispersion once you clear a klick off the bow. Skull, you have tail-end Charlie.'' Her second-in-command rogered up without complaint. Keller toggled the last of the pre-flight hard switches and rolled her release clamps to their just final setting. *What the hell did they find on Io to get the Sino-Ruski Cooperative so hot? Dick-measuring contests never reach beyond the Belt. * The amber ready-light spectrum shifted to green, pulling her from her thoughts. Heavy hydraulics, insulated from the freezing temperatures of space opened the maw of her fighter bay. The oxygen had already been sucked clean ten minutes past. Valkyrie warmed her main engines as the docking clamps pushed her out into the hard", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0657", "text": "believe me. I'm not entirely sure I believe me. My only hope is that I can find out what causes the whole thing before the whole thing happens. Terrorism? I mean, I guess it could be but that's a slim shot in the dark. So what in the blue hell blows up a plane over the ocean? First stop? Bathroom. Experience an explosion is enough to make you feel the urge to... relieve yourself. That's when I see her. I stand and she's further back but she's got that look on her face. The sweat, the panic. She saw it too. The good? I guess I have a partner. The bad? I might not be wrong. **** 9:37AM I wave to her and motion towards the washrooms. `` You saw it?'' She nodded. `` Did you see anything?'' She shook her head. This wasn't productive. There had to be something, some piece of information that either of us had buried in our brains that would be useful. Then something clicked. `` Do you remember which way the explosion came from?'' She tilted her head as if she was remembering. `` Yeah, the heat was in front of me. What the hell is going on?'' I looked back to the passengers. There were six rows between her seat and mine. Six rows of nine, that's... 54 if any math from school stuck. `` Hey, did you hear me?'' She said, grabbing my arm. `` Yeah! It came from in front of you. It came from behind me. So that means-'' `` It started somewhere between us.'' She finished, which would usually annoy me but in this case it was nice to have 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0658", "text": "back.'' `` Wait,'' said Ben, `` you're scared of that thing? It's just an abandoned car.'' `` Yeah well...'' I stammered. `` Well are you going to show it to me or not?'' interrupted Andrew. Ben led the way. Even in the daylight the car freaked me out. Why would it just be sitting there, in the middle of the tracks. If another train came by wouldn't there be a collision? Train cars are valuable you don't just leave them behind. It didn't make any sense, and there was something else I just couldn't place. Something that made my hair stand on end every time I saw it. `` See?'' said Ben, `` not scary at all.'' `` If you aren't scared go in there,'' I said. `` Hell no!'' said Ben, and I let out a little gasp. We weren't allowed to say Hell. `` Then admit you're scared,'' I goaded. `` Screw you guys,'' said Ben, `` I liked my old troop better.'' He turned to leave. `` Look in the window,'' said Ricky. Ben froze. `` If something is in there that cut Carl, like you said, I wan na know what it is. If you aren't scared, then prove it. Look in the window.'' Ben found his resolve. `` Alright,'' he said, `` one look.'' `` The room with the shades down,'' I said. `` How am I supposed to see in there?'' asked Ben. `` Through the gap.'' `` Whatever,'' he said. `` But you have to give me a boost.'' I really, really didn't want to get any closer, 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,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 488, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0659", "text": "Bridgette's eyes flickered momentarily, but only back and forth across the glowing rectangular screen clutched in her pinkly glittering fingertips. `` Yeah man, people fucking love you. You're, like, pretty much pop-culture.'' The Prince of Darkness snapped his leathery wings in irritation. Bridgette did n't look up; her followers needed her. The perfectly crisp white line of the part in her hair stared up at him as she calmly strung puns in a never-ending comment chain like a fucking pro. Lucifer the Morningstar settled for crouching a little in an attempt to make eye-contact, his barbed tails sweeping the ground. `` Believe me, I understand the temptation, but this has to stop. I'm not the Santa Claus of Reddit, I ca n't be everywhere at once.'' Bridgette's gaze flicked onto him so unexpectedly that Satan noticed too late the picture she snapped of him. `` Yeah, that's a meme if I ever heard one.'' Beelzebub peeked over her shoulder as blocky white text appeared across the scorching image of his sullen face. Between fangs, he pouted. `` Even you have to admit it's a cheap shot.'' Suddenly she was next to him, her spine pressed lightly into the burning flesh of his naked chest. The small white screen floated before his eyes between her palms. `` There, you see that? That's my fucking karma, big boy.'' Suddenly Satan did n't know what to do with hands. `` Is that for real?'' `` Just from this post. I'm telling you, they fucking love you.'' She smiled sweetly, looked up into his face, and snapped a selfie. The Lord of the Flies stared blankly at the girl in his arms, then seemed to finally find his tongue. `` I think my eyes were closed. Get another.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 389, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0660", "text": "Just another day, another morning jog through Valmoor Park. It was one of the safer places in the big city to jog. Muggers very honorably stuck to only robbing people at night, and left when the sun came up. The kind of place where city workers picked up the empty beer cans, used condoms, and broken glass pipes every day at 7 am sharp. I usually went jogging at about 7:30. They couldn't do anything about the homeless, though. The ones who'd found bushes or hidden culverts in the night, and woke with the sun. They sat on park benches, holding either full cups of coffee they'd bought at 7-11, or empty ones, held out ready for your pocket change. My running shorts had no pockets, and no change. I ignored these folks. I was on a mission. My waistline was the enemy, and at 38 years old, the battle was being hard fought. A new clash of calories versus movement, every morning. And then, one day in the summer of 2014, my battle was interrupted. I was rounding the trail bend where there's a children's playground, about 400 yards from the lake. Didn't really notice her as I passed. Just another homeless old gal, sitting on a bench, staring at me when I ran past. At that moment, I couldn't have even told you what she was wearing. I was in the zone - 1 mile down, 2 more to go. *Alice In Chains* pumping in my earbuds. Feet thudding the paved jogging trail. She yelled it loud enough to be heard over the music. **'' CHRISTOPHER!!! `` ** I stopped, turned. She stood next to the bench, eyes and mouth forming a trio of wide circles. Looking at me not just like she knew me, but like I was some kind of celebrity. I knew immediately that I'd never met her in my life. One earbud popped out. `` Excuse me?'' Tears spilled out of her eyes like a waterfall as she blinked, struggling for words, and started walking toward me. One of her dirty hands was outstretched. `` Chris,'' she said, voice cracking. `` Oh my god. It's... what are you doing here?'' `` Do I know you?'' I refused to take a step back, but realized I would soon if she kept reaching", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0661", "text": "Descent drifted silently through the black waters. Small bio luminescent creatures flickered in the darkness. “ It looks like a wall? ” He said scratching his head. “ Slow engines, I want us crawling. ” The engineer pulled back on the throttle and tried to reduce their speed. “ Sir, we are not slowing down. ” Darrel said quickly. “ Engines full reverse! ” “ It ’ s not slowing us down! Something is pulling us forward! ” Darrel shouted. “ Crew brace for impact! ” The crew scrambled and sat in their seats. Harnesses were buckled tightly. Wallace ’ s eyes were locked on his screens. The submarine quickly approached the pale green wall. The round tip of the sub breached the wall. Nothing happened. “ Wallace? ” The Captain asked around clenched teeth. “ I don ’ t understand… ” The sub suddenly pitched forward. Erin screamed as the sub dropped like a stone. A coffee cup sailed past her head and smashed into the roof breaking into small shards of ceramic. They fell for a few short seconds. The bottom of the sub connected with the ground in an ear piercing screech. The outer hull crumpled like an aluminum can. Wallace ’ s face whipped into the corner of his computer console. His skull collapsed from the impact, blood poured over his keyboard. Lights flickered and went out. The crew was enveloped in darkness. “ Report. ” Crew members unbuckled harnesses and patted themselves down checking for injuries. Some had small cuts from debris. “ Sir, Wallace…is dead. ” Darrel said stepping away from Wallace. Hastily wiping the blood from his hands. “ Find out what the hell just happened! ” Mark said trying to keep himself together. He pressed his shaking hands against his sides and took a deep breath. Flashlights flared to life around the cabin. Erin gasped as her beam illuminated Wallace ’ s body. Thick drops of blood were creating a pool underneath his seat. Darrel peered out the main hatch and shouted for everyone to come join him. “ I don ’ t think we are underwater anymore. ” “ That ’ s impossible, of course we are! ” Erin said. “ No, of course we are UNDER water, what I ’ m saying is that we are not touching water… ” His voice trailed off. Mark pushed through the crew to look out the hatch ’ s window. Confirming Darrel ’ s suspicion", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0662", "text": "`` Jerry... Jerry!'' Jerry jerked his head up, looking left then right at the millions of angels staring back at him. The podium was empty! Coming to his senses, he felt the soft hum of a trillion tappings of tiny, bored fingertips that reverberated across the Infinity Boardroom to the end of the universe and back. `` Jerry,'' God sighed patiently, `` Please. If you may. It is your turn.'' `` Y-yes,'' he stammered, echoing his uncertainty across The Loudspeaker. Now biting his tongue, he galloped up to the podium, still mid-blush. Placing his palm on The Dial, screens appeared down as far as the eye can Holy See. Clearing his throat, finally, he began: `` Your Majesty. Winged souls. Betty...'' — he could just make out Betty mouthing'Oh, stop it!' in the distance — `` My team and I have read through His Holy Source code... with His Divine Permission'' — God nodded in approval here — `` and it appears we had overlooked some of our Loop functions.'' Knowing nods across the Universe sent ripples through the ether, followed by a quite beautiful and harmonious'Ohhhhh' beginning to sound. `` Humans can in theory Loop in as many souls as they wish. Which is exactly what they are doing. Which is why a good number of you are here...'' Jerry rotated his hand on The Dial. `` If you take a look at the screeeennns....'' — he over-emphasized the last word — `` you'll see our Soul quota for this era, which has been absolutely eclipsed by Humans' ingenuity recently. For the older souls here, the red line on the bottom indicates how many Souls we should be producing... quite flat, mostly... and the really fat blue line on top is how many are actually being produced. You see that up-tick near the end? `` I am afraid that with their near-daily and quite honestly, exponential, advances in Artificial Intelligence, engineering, physics... we are spelling the end of the Universe as we know it. It's only a matter of time before **they** tap into the Source code itself... `` So my team and I are going to turn off Time Production – yes, literally stop Time – until we figure this out. Our soul output will stall for a few Biblical Days... It's the best we can do.'' God clenched", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0663", "text": "Ma's late night at the 7/11 and daddy's night to make dinner. Most nights he heated up some pizza rolls in the microwave and let Carey watch him play Xbox, but that Tuesday he had gotten nothing but duds on his lotto tickets and couldn't be bothered with anything other than his crumpled paper bag and large glass bottle full of yellow liquid. Carey, who eventually got hungry enough to want to do something about it, was in the process of microwaving the pizza rolls herself when Ma walked in, took one look at daddy and at Carey, who had just climbed up on a stool in order to reach the microwave, and started hollering. `` Jesus fuck, Daniel, can you even remember to feed your own daughter?'' `` It's not that late,'' replied daddy, not moving from his chair. Ma's nostrils were white with anger. `` It is nearly midnight, you piece of shit.'' Carey turned away and put her rolls in the microwave, tuning out the yelling by watching the green numbers tick slowly downward. When nana was alive, Ma and daddy had to take their yelling outside or cut that shit out, but when Carey tried to suggest that they do so after nana died, daddy had hit her upside the head and told her not to use bad language. Nana had been better about keeping the peace, said Ma, but Carey wasn't sure what that meant; all she knew is when Ma and daddy got to yelling, she ate dinner in her room and kept the door shut. After the microwave beeped, Carey took the rolls out and headed back towards her room, ignoring the fuss, but was stopped when daddy grabbed her shoulder. `` Isn't that right, honey? You'd prefer to come live with daddy?'' `` Don't get her in the middle of this!'' Ma yelled, snatching Carey's other arm. The pizza rolls went flying. Carey, whose stomach felt cavernous, felt her eyes fill up with tears, although she wasn't exactly sure why they were doing that. Confused, she pulled away from both parents and dashed out the door, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. She ran next door to the Viegel's trailer, but only Old Man Viegel was awake, drinking from his own glass bottle on the porch. `` I need supper,'' said Carey, her face wet with tears. She could still hear Ma and daddy yelling. Old", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 495, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0664", "text": "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 on his face. The trainees remained perfectly still until they heard the young man speak up again, “ Oh... I was just thinking... you looked really beautiful right now. I was wondering what you were thinking.'' The physician sighed, “ they have this exact same conversation several times a day. ” One of the trainees creased his eyebrows in thought, “ anterograde amnesia? ” “ Yes, ” the physician said, and then addressed the group, “ anterograde amnesia is a form of amnesia that prevents the mind from forming new memories. Often caused by physical injury to the brain. Subjects remember everything up until the injury took place, but everything afterwards is completely forgotten as soon as they stop thinking about it. ” “ …I was just home for the weekend tending the horses when one of the bastards kicked me in the back of the head. I'm sure I'm lucky to be alive,'' the trainees could hear the girl in the room saying. One of the boys in the back laughed, “ P. Sherman, forty two Wallaby Way ” “ Quiet, ” the physician commanded sternly, but without raising his voice, “ But yes, that ’ s correct. Dory in Finding Nemo had a version of anterograde amnesia, as did the protagonist in the film Memento. Those two movies are generally considered to be two of the most realistic depictions of amnesia in film. ” “ A movie about a cartoon talking fish? ” the boy in the back chuckled. “ Oh, fine, ” the girl in the room shrugged, “ there goes my fantasy… ” The physician looked like he was losing his patience, but before he could address this,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0665", "text": "'s stories, and he hoped the same of her about his. Hours pass and the two of them decide that they should go back home. Whilst on the way home, Marks shoulder begins acting up, and as they approach a bridge a screaming pain shoots through it. The sudden pain causes him to recoil and the recoil causes him to turn the wheel. there was no time to stop or correct the vehicle, Mark grabs his wife's hand and closes his eyes. Nothing. Nothing happened. Mark opens his eyes and everything is still. Snowflakes hung in the air, tears frozen on his wife's face along side her feared expression. He didn't quite understand what was happening. Outside his window he sees movement. `` Hello!'' The something spoke. Mark realised it was a man. He evacuates the SUV. It was stopped just before the guardrail on the bridge. Mark finally gained the strength to ask the man something. `` Excuse and pardon me, but what the hell is happening here?'' The other man just stops moving and smiles. `` Well, it just so happens that I saved your life... well sort of. You see, I am not allowed to interfere with the lives of mortals. Well, I was passing by and saw that you were in a spot of trouble. So I stopped time for you. Right now you are not quite alive... but you also aren't dead. The only way to make time return is to get back in that vehicle there and close your eyes. So, in essence, I haven't saved you just... what am I looking for here... oh right, I merely postponed the inevitable. Of course you can always just not start time again.'' Mark stared at the man incredulously. `` So I'm doomed to die then?'' Mark looks back at his vehicle and his wife. He turns to say something to the man bit he was gone. Mark stood there for quite a while. Thinking of scenarios that could save his wife and himself. Nothing, nothing could be done. He decided he had to just get back in the car, he had to at least be with his wife. Thoughts of their past flooded his mind. Meeting her, falling in love with her, the first time they made love, their wedding day, and finally their date tonight. He weighed his options, wander the earth and see everything he always wanted to, go places he always dreamed of... No! He didn't want yo", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 496, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0666", "text": "details in minuscule writing. The man had pulled out a payment card, which he handed to the youth. It was undoubtedly untraceable and anonymous. The youth tapped it against his tablet and gave it discreetly back to the man, along with the vial. `` We thank you for your interest,'' said the youth in a tone that suggested otherwise. `` Give my regards to your boss,'' said the elderly man as he left. Another man, this one younger and more conspicuously dressed, approached the stall. A stunknife flashed on his belt, visible beneath his cloak as he moved. `` Speak of the devil,'' said the youth, not bothering to mask his dislike of the newcomer. Ressick smiled, showing perfectly aligned white teeth. He entered the stall and put his arm around the youth. `` Sam, Sam, Sam. That tongue of yours... How's business?'' `` Good, sir,'' said Sam. `` I am glad to hear it. But you'll want to be more gracious to our customers, won't you? Remember, you belong to me 065537.'' With another smile, he walked away. The youth watched him depart with disfavour. He waited several minutes, then pulled out of his pocket a small glass vial and a dropper. The number 021870 was printed on the tag. Sam toyed with it between his fingers, then unstoppered the vial. He pinched the bulb of the dropper and drew some of the clear liquid. He faced away from the marketplace, and deposited a drop into his eye. Quickly, he put the bottle back in his pocket. He'd place it back in the cabinet when the next customer came. No one would miss a drop. Especially not when the memories had belonged to a miner. Sam blinked. Blurry images swam in his mind. A woman laughing, in her hand a red flower. He had never held a flower. The woman was looking out towards the sea. It was not like the sea that Sam knew. The sun shimmered on a blue surface. White birds flew in the sky. The woman was still laughing, happiness visible in every feature. It was almost unbearable. Out of all the memories Sam had stolen, the happy ones caused him the most pain. This memory, like many others belonging to members of the lowest classes, had most likely been sold for money. Those memories had less value and were considered less desirable", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0667", "text": "subservience. Their father was mad, ignorant, and cared naught for the people in these final years. When their father called for the messengers heads Charles protested while Edward quietly observed. The messengers did not plead for their lives, but merely said, `` The Prince is wise. His actions will save the lives of your people. Yours would erase your existence from history. No *true* King fails to grace the pages of history.'' Moments later the King would have Ethan take their heads and add them to the pile they brought. Soon thereafter, Edward took his oath and relinquished his title without any consultation. Charles could not fathom his actions. The King had planned to send nearly their entire army to their deaths, including his sons, and his brother would abandon him like a coward. Charles' disgust with Edward would soon turn to hatred. Whispers claimed that Edward had sent the lieutenant from his personal guard to the foreigners. He would carry an offer of fealty to the foreign Emperor, once they had massacred his brothers and remaining soldiers, in return for sparing the remaining Kingdom under his own name. The whispers came from the torture of Edward's lieutenant, after Ethan captured him while the kingdom's army made their way towards the foreign army. Charles, having learned of this betrayal, would leave Ethan in charge and return to court. `` Father's madness infects Edward's blood,'' Charles believed. `` I can not allow this to carry on any further,'' he resolved. Charles would seek to have his father relinquish the crown and thus allow him to attempt peace with the foreign Emperor. Upon returning to the throne Charles was met by his father, seated and drowning himself with wine, with his brother at his side broad sword in 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0668", "text": "We sat before the hoard. It was quiet. I knew that must've upset her. But I could only stare at my shoes. She sat erect,'hands' folded delicately over her lap. Those gigantic eyes burned like rogue moonbeams. I could feel the panic stirring inside her, even if she chose not to show it. I wasn't a very pretty picture: dark circles marred my eyes, and I had the slack-jawed gaze of an insomniac. I hadn't been sleeping recently, you see. The green pool bubbled beneath us, churning like a bed of rancid cooking oil. *They* were in there: the rest of them. A thousand souls, all told. That was the ship's initial compliment when they landed, anyway. Who knows what was in there, now. It'd been nearly a month since they landed, and 30 days to us might as well have been half a millennium, to them. And what was it like, in the pool? I'd asked her, before. She could never really explain it. Maybe I could never understand it. Still, I tried. Her head turns, craning to one side, and she blinks with those lovely moonbeam eyes. `` What're you thinking?'' She whispered. I smile, my lips unnaturally perched, and I shrug: `` One thing at a time,'' I answer. `` You know... like always...'' She looks forward, and I can't tell what she's thinking. But I know it's like me: one thing at a time. It was like that for them all, if they were outside the roiling soup that was the hoard. And I know that upsets them. I know it must upset her. `` You all... sleep, don't you?'' She asked, looking over at me again. `` I know you take... you take *time* to... to regenerate? Isn't that right?'' I nod slowly, again staring down at my shoes. `` It's like... it's quite a few *minutes*, isn't it?'' I swallow, sighing hard, and I gently shake my head. When I look over at her I manage a wan smile: `` On average we sleep for... for about eight hours...'' Her little button nose twitches, and those moonbeam eyes glimmer, briefly. Then she looks", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0669", "text": "`` Aw, do n't cry my sweet little girl! You were so quiet earlier, even with all the racket my friends made!'' Shrill screams and crocodile tears stream from her face, unrelenting. She's heavy. `` Oh do you have a full poopie bag? Is that why you're crying? I might just have to take care of this before I can finish cleaning the living room. Such a poopie monster, are n't you.'' `` Now, where did your mommy put those clean poo holders?'' He rummages through the shelves. Empty bottles and bottle caps. He grabs the wet naps and baby powder then turns to the closet nearby. `` There they are. Do n't worry sweet thing, you'll be clean and tidy before you know it. I'm a cleaner by trade, and I'm the best.'' He sets her on the changing table and begins his dirty work. Tossing out the old diaper. Grabbing a fresh wet one and tidying up the tiny butt cheeks, covered in muck. A dash of baby powder. Then the fresh diaper, brand new. The crying dies down. `` There you are sweetheart. Nice and clean.'' He picks her up and cradles her in his arms, gently. She's almost asleep again. `` Hush little baby, do n't say a word...'' he sings softly as he places her back in her crib and begins to rock her back to sleep. When the lullaby is over, he steps back to admire his work. `` No child should die screaming, `` he said as he reaches for the same gun he executed her parents with.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 339, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0670", "text": "`` Urghhhh.. Umphh.. AH!'' Pushing open a front door that has two fresh corpses lying against it is not an easy task. Made harder by the fact that the middle aged lady corpse was morbidly obese. `` At least being dead will do her figure some good.'' thought James. `` What an inconveniance! Certainly not a task suitable to a beautiful Tuesday morning.'' James squeezed his skinny frame out of the front door and carefully stepped around the bodies. He was n't particulary upset by the site of the dead bodies - after all death was just a part of life. The very last part. He did n't like the smell much though. Or the inconvenience the dead could cause. In particular he could n't understand suicidal people who could be so rude as to jump right in front of a train as their choice of fatality. The delays they caused! Did n't they care? James had already left a message on the emergency services answer machine to come and collect the bodies and so felt he had done his duty. Bit strange they had n't actually answered the phone line, he had thought. He walked around the corner and saw a large red vehicle that instantly lofted his spirits. `` Ah ha some good luck this morning! The bus is actually waiting at the stop. Incredible!'' James hurried over to the stop. The door was open and he hopped on board. `` A return to Paddington if you please'' he commanded. No response. `` Sir! Sir?'' Still nothing. James gasped. He could n't believe it. The driver must have fallen asleep. On the job no less! Standards seemed to be slipping daily! Well he was n't going to be waking anyone. That would be too kind to this lazy good for nothing. He would instead write a letter of complaint. Let this man's boss deal him, which would no doubt end in his redundancy. He stepped off the bus, feeling mainly annoyed but with a tinge of satisfaction. He started walking towards the train station when he noticed a lump on the floor. It was a body and it's head was facing the wrong direction. `` Perhaps I should consider moving'' he mused. For the first time since stepping outside he looked around properly. In the distance in almost every direction there were lumps on the floor. Bodies. It was quickly becoming a very strange day.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 489, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0671", "text": "joy, ringing even louder in my ears. Everyone must be having a *really* good time, I thought, as I strode through Aunt Stephanie's modest home. I strode across the carpet, trying not to stumble over the furniture with my newly obscured vision. `` Arrr, matey!'' I practiced to myself as I approached the sliding back door, and smiled wide as I slid open the door and raced into the backyard. `` ARRRR MATEY!'' I yelled to the backyard in general, with my eyes closed. When I opened my right eye ( the left eye covered by my pirate patch ), I thought for a second that I must be having a flashback nightmare from all of the whiskey that I was prepared to consume at the party. My brain couldn't even begin to process what I was seeing. Slowly, my hand gripping the hilt of my fake sword for protection, the neurons fired in my head, and I started to attach names to the faces before me. *Billy Bob, Aunt Stephanie's oldest son. Face-down in the dirt being pegged by Uncle Ferb, his stepfather. The contorted look on Billy Bob's face as he moans in ecstasy. No, this can't be happening. * My terrified eye traveled up Uncle Ferb's arm, his wrist, his hand, which was half-deep into my cousin Julia's kittty. Julie had a tank top on, but nothing on her bottom, and she was seated in a chair as close as possible to her father and brother's position. Her head was thrown back, and she was gripping the chair as hard as I was gripping the hilt of my sword. My feet stumbled backwards into the house, and before I knew it, I had tumbled over my aunt's leather couch. I was in the living room. I started to retch. I crawled on all fours into the kitchen. I leaned against the fridge, breathing hard, my stomach dropping painfully. Minutes passed. I started to think it was possible that no one heard me. But I couldn't walk back outside. I could barely breathe, and more than anything I longed to shut everything, including reason, out of my unyielding head. I turned and stared blankly, without seeing, the platters of food set out for all of the incoming family guests on the kitchen table and counter. Suddenly I spotted something that made me have a physical reaction.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0672", "text": "rampant optimism got the better of me, making some encounters extremely uncomfortable. By the time I had graduated from my high school, I had matured into an awkward young man. Medium length wavy black hair, fair skin, and steel-blue eyes ( courtesy of my parents being from Japan and Ireland ). As soon as my nineteenth birthday came to an end, I started having these headaches. At first I attributed this to not having enough sleep. I was staying up all night responding to writing prompts on Reddit and sleeping for only three of four hours. However, even when I attempted to change my sleeping habits, the headaches continued with a vengeance. About a week ago I was sitting in my bed, writing on my iPod touch, when I saw a bright flash of light outside my window. I got up groggily and pulled back the curtain. It was raining outside. `` Probably just some lightning,'' I mumbled to nobody in particular. As I was getting back under the warmth of my sheets, I saw it again and realized there was no accompanying thunder, even though the light was bright enough to be right outside my window. This woke me up a little more. I stood up again, looking for a reasonable explanation, when I heard a knock on my door. I opened it to reveal my dad, but that wasn't what caught me by surprise. Or rather he wasn't the reason I practically shit myself. Perched on his shoulder was a bizarre little creature. It was about the size of a large rabbit, and completely hairless, its wrinkly pitch black skin somehow glinting in the light of the hall. It had six legs, claws digging in to the material of my dad's old faded Rush t-shirt. It had a vaguely humanoid face with dark, beady little eyes, but where a mouth should be, it had a long proboscis which was presently jammed into the side of my dad's neck. I wasn't sure if I was dreaming, so all I could do is stand there. My dad asked if I was okay. I nodded weakly. He didn't look too sure, but he said good night and closed the door. I could only stand there in fear. What was that? I had no way of knowing. In my stupor I stumbled over to my desk and got online to try to search for anything that may have resembled that thing. No results. The next morning I woke up with my laptop's", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0673", "text": "Brandon Harris was very sad about having to move. He'd had all sorts of friends back home -- cool kids with fun cats and dogs and guinea pigs. His mother was allergic to most animals, so he didn't get to have any of his own to play with. And now, because his dumb old mother got a dumb old job in a dumber, older city, he had to leave them all behind. Now they lived in a dumb old house that made weird creaking noises at night. Two days of his new school, and he still hadn't made any friends. One of his teachers asked him to stay after school, asking him if he was making any new friends. Brandon asked her if she knew any places with cats -- cats were his favorite, though dogs or other animals would do if he couldn't find any cats. She looked at him as if he were crazy. `` Wouldn't you rather play with some nice boys and girls instead of cats?'' she asked. She didn't get it. Later that night, he lay in bed trying to sleep. The creaking noise came from down the hall, but it was growing louder. He sat up and turned on the lamp by his bed. He felt nuts, but he thought the noise was coming from inside the walls, and coming closer and closer. He stood up at the door and listened; it passed over his head, loudest that he'd ever heard it. The grate over the air vent rattled violently and popped open with a snapping sound. Brandon stared in amazement as four little people jumped out, smiling broadly at him. They were each maybe two feet tall, covered in fur the color of grass. They had long tails that swung back and forth, and pointed ears that were twice as big as their heads. `` Hello, Brandon,'' the tallest one said, stroking his long yellow-green beard. `` We are the Shathees.'' `` Shathees live in every house,'' explained one that looked kind of like a girl. `` We normally don't talk to humans, but you've looked so sad since you moved in that we couldn't just leave you lonely.'' `` Will you be our friend, and we yours?'' asked another one -- shorter, kind of chubby. Brandon smiled. `` Of course!'' `` Yay!'' cried the smallest one; she looked like a girl too, but a really young one. ``", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 493, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0674", "text": "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 I regretted it now. My face smacked into something, solid, metal. For a fleeting moment, I thought it was them. I looked up, shielding my face. I felt my lungs release as I realized with a slow familiarity that it was just a ladder. I hauled my ass up it and opened the man hole cover. Had I hit a dead end? I looked around cautiously. With a start, I realized where I was. I was in a suburb on the outskirts of town. This was perfect. I could high tail it up the hills! I would be safe! I felt a ping of regret. I had left the others down there, with them. I shoved that thought down deep, I didn't have time for regret. Not today. I stepped out into the light, carelessly throwing the man hole cover aside. It scraped loudly on asphalt. Without looking back, I tore through yards and across sidewalks, dead set on protecting myself. Maybe those other people would find their way out. I had hope for them, I did. My self preservation always won out in tense situations. That's why my wife left me. We were both hurting and to preserve myself, my sanity, I had filed the divorce papers. How I had missed her. I turned a corner and felt my breath hitch in my throat. It was one of those machines, collecting from a family in a mini-van. I had nowhere to hide, not really. The hedges were all trimmed so short I would have to lay down to hide. Well, that's exactly what I did. I did an awkward army crawl forward, my body tense. I got a good look at the machine and with a jolt,", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0675", "text": "of lumber in and outside of British Columbia. That is going to change fairly quickly – it ’ s been discovered that a large oil reservoir is buried there, and we intend to use it. Our efforts will inevitably suffer once this information spreads. And it will spread – quickly. Our sales within the United States make up the bulk of our revenue, and where most of our opposition will come from. Mrs. Scharre has alerted me to a very convenient explanation for the deforestation, and inevitable contamination of that entire area – that we are a cover up of a larger goal by prominent citizens within our government to search out, capture, and stem the tide of a hostile extraterrestrial species that has begun to colonize the area. We need you to make sure there are enough people here who believe this that any opposition will be met with resistance. Everyone will eventually forget, and we ’ ll all walk away richer. ” “ That ’ s it, ” Tony snorted, “ that ’ s your big plan? ” Gary smiled. “ No, ” Gary said with a wink, “ That is *your* big plan. ” Tony sat in stunned silence. “ I... I ’ ll see what I can come up with, ” he said, mouth dried to a desert wasteland. Gary reached over to shake his hand, and said, “ Mrs. Scharre will assist you with your paperwork. I ’ m overdue for a lunch meeting, so I will leave you in her... their capable hands. ” He said, reluctantly including the two anomalies. Tony shook his hand, “ Thank you, I look forward to working with everyone. ” Gary left. The door snapped shut. Mrs. Scharre slowly looked up at Ms. Palmer, and Mr. McReady. Something silent and chilling passed between them. Mr. McReady spooled his scarf around his neck, rose up out of his seat as if gravity had no place in his immediate lifestyle, walked smoothly to the doors and with a loud click they locked from the inside. He took up a defensive posture in front of the double-doors, and smiled. Mrs. Sharre ’ s hardened gaze turned on Tony. “ Paperwork… ” she intoned with all the mirth of a funeral march. Tony reached in to his bag, grabbed a manilla folder, and with a half-cocked smile slid it over to Mrs. Scharre. She reached out, flipped it open and began", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0676", "text": "was an incomplete question, but her response was absolute. “ Did you... Did you hear..? ” He struggled to find his words, but her eyes widened again, the shock clearly visible on her face. She was like him. She could hear and interpret the melodies of the heart, could confidently steer a conversation and leave others happy and better than they were before... But her own heart, there was no song to convey the emotions she felt and the life she lived. And from the expression she gave him, he must have given off a similar sound. He was broken. She was broken. But somehow, meeting each other here, looking into each others eyes, that noise subsided. That was the night they met. They didn't speak much, the shock making them incapable of exchanging much more than a few words. But they had introduced themselves to each other, and while not vocally explained they left knowing they had met someone like themselves. He returned the next day. And the next. And many days after that until eventually he mustered up the courage to ask her out to coffee when she wasn't working and they could actually have a conversation of substance. She had lost her husband. Lost her reason for living, just like him. She discovered she was able to hear the songs of others when her sister became frustrated with her living as a shut in. It developed from there, and like himself she had learned to utilize this talent to help others, helping them make more of their lives since she found her own so empty. They talked about their past. Talked about their families and how they had fallen apart. And talking to someone in a similar situation helped them begin to heal. And then, he heard her song. Cautious notes on a piano. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 368, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0677", "text": "finally connected. `` M-mom?!'' a frightened teenage voice asked in trepidation. In the background, Anna discerned more rabid screams and shrieks all around. `` What's happening?! Are you alright? Where are you -'' `` Leah? Leah! Oh thank goodness you're safe.'' She had to raise her voice to be heard; the professor nearly jumped out of her skin as a raving man collided with her office door and then sped down the hall. `` Where's your brother? Is he okay?'' `` I don't know! He's was in another class. I'm in the girls' bathroom, the stall is locked - mom, what's happening?'' Poor Leah sounded on the verge of a breakdown and Anna forced herself to consciously suppress her own sense of rising panic. `` I'm so scared!'' The flood of psychiatric assessments and interviews after the epidemic brought to light a number of common symptoms. Vivid hallucinations, often of the moon. Others spoke of a disturbing, sickly emerald light that filled their vision. Societal upheaval inevitably followed: drug addicts swore off their vices to become productive, hard-working citizens while productive, hard-working citizens swore off their virtues to become drug addicts. Dr. Anna, often forced to spend much of her time writing grant proposals to scrounge money from whichever source might be willing to spare her some change for research, suddenly found herself inundated with more funding than she could use. Her senior graduate student quit his studies to go on a journey of spiritual enlightenment. Anxiety-induced deaths spiked sharply worldwide that month. Nine months later, a record number of babies were born globally. `` Leah - Leah, honey, listen to me. I'll come and get you. Stay safe where you are,'' Anna told her, steadying her own quavering voice. Fear for her children overrode trepidation of the screaming masses outside. `` Stay safe. I love you, Skye,'' she finished the call with an affectionate touch of her daughter's middle name. Dr. Anna picked up a plastic ruler more for a sense of security than practical self-defense before emerging from her office into the world consumed by madness. -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - The Governor, rather pleased with himself, looked up to the Enforcer. `` There you see, Lord Vader", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0678", "text": "Everything was on fire. Every hovel in town was being raided or was burning to ash. Men were the first to die, whether they put up a fight or not. The women and children were free pickins. The man with the flame gun lit mommy and daddy up like matches. The screams... Tried to run. Ran as fast we could, dinky and I. The tears wouldn't stop, even though we were taught not to cry. Crying uses up to much water daddy says. We ran and we hid in that oven. Yes we did... we ran and we found our bestest hidin spot we did. But the man still found us... the burnin man with the glow in his eyes. The big man with the tanks on his back and cigar in his mouth... still remember his smile... `` HAHAHA!!! Why, what do we got here, a lil boy and his toy hidin in the oven for us, ready for dinner are we?! HAHA! What's your name boy?!'' Snarled the burning man, `` uh... uh... A- Alex.'' The monster smiled... `` Oh! Is it now?! Let's go have some fun!'' `` Hey!!! Are you talking to yourself again? You crazy fuck!'' Skinny was being loud again... that mouth never shut the fuck up, just ran and ran and ran, like a fire gecko on speed. The only reason he lasted the past season was because he made the best jet. So everyone put up with the noisy cocksucker. `` HEY! You hearing me you dumb, fat fuck?! Hahaha!'' Skinny was clearly strung out again. The knife slipped under his jaw in a quick and fluid motion. Skinny was drowning in his blood already. The fingers almost slipped out of his greasy hair when grabbing him by the scruff, for a closer talk. `` Yeah, I was hearing ya, just wasn't listenin.'' Skinny plopped to the ground and thrashed around until his heart ran out of battery acid to pump. `` GODDAMNIT! AXEL!!! What are we gon na do for Jet now?! I mean, fuck I hated him too but where are we gon na get our shit now?'' Said Coyote. Axel shrugged non-shalantly as he resentfully snagged the jet pipe out of coyote's hand. Axel drew on the pipe hard and hot till the bowl was clear and", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0679", "text": "`` Wow... That's a lot of paperwork.'' said James, dumbfounded. `` Yes it is, Mrs. Clinton. What did you expect? It's like this every day.'' responded the advisor, `` Get to work, you have a meeting at 8, and I need you to revise those policy suggestions we've been asking for.'' James wasn't even out of bed yet. Worse yet, it wasn't even his own bed. All he could remember was that last night he was out drinking with his buddies to celebrate Halloween, and his Hillary Clinton costume was a hit at every party he visited. All of his email jokes and FBI investigation one-liners started to come back to him. He chuckled to himself, thinking his friends must be playing a joke on him. He stepped out of bed onto a carpet floor he didn't recognize, and looked out of his bedside window, expecting to see the rolling hills outside of his Texas home. He wasn't in Texas. He was on the east coast, and his view was the side of the highway flying past as the tour bus edged closer and closer to its next stop. James turned to the inch-thick stack of papers on the nightstand and flipped through them, shocked at the depth of the questions he was to answer to the nation. `` This isn't funny guys... I need to get to work soon!'' `` You're at work, Mrs. Clinton. Are you feeling ok? Are you running a fever?'' James heard from the other side of the door. He fell silent, his jaw hanging open. `` I didn't think it was this hard'' James muttered to himself. Sarah's eyes slid open to the bay window in 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0680", "text": "seen him. He would lift weights over his head like licorice.'' `` I've seen a few who can do that.'' `` Is it not fascinating?'' `` Not as fascinating as you.'' `` I am sure you say that to all the pretty girls.'' `` I want to see you do it, though. In person for once. Can you show me?'' `` Ah!'' She pretends to be offended, putting her hand over her heart. `` We are in public!'' `` We're in an elevator!'' `` Later. It takes a lot of energy. I am too tired right now.'' `` Okay, sure.'' It is a long ride up to the subway level. The elevator is slow, groaning as it moves. `` Let's get out on the next floor.'' I press the button. `` This is our stop?'' `` No, but this elevator is being weird. I shouldn't have stopped it; I think I broke something. The escalators will be faster.'' `` Ugh, walking.'' `` Sorry.'' We get out and roam around looking for a way upstairs. We're in a food court. `` I am feeling hungry. The food on the plane was no good.'' `` Okay. What do you want?'' `` Pizza, I suppose.'' We get in the line for Sbarro's. Béatrice focuses on her phone while I glance around. People are eating, paying attention to their food and their bags and their electronics. Everything is normal. Then my eyes catch on a TV suspended from the ceiling. There's a news channel on that is showing mugshots. One of them looks familiar. `` Béatrice? I need you to go to the restroom.'' `` *Qu'est que c'est? *'' She looks up at me, then follows my gaze to the screen. `` Francis, what-'' `` Go to the restroom and, y'know, *change. * I'll get the pizzas and we'll go.'' `` We should run.'' `` No, that'll make things worse. Go! And leave your bag.'' She leaves. Fortunately, no one else seems to be watching her or the TV. I pull out my phone and make a call. `` Yo.'' `` Dexter, hey. I think we have a problem.'' `` Lem me guess. CNN?'' `` I'm looking at Fox.'' `` Yeah, we've been monitoring. It's only been up the last ten minutes", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0681", "text": "Any other person would have been allowed to come into the shop. Basically my boss was cool with just about anybody doing business with us, so long as they were willing to pay money and get out of the way for the next shmuck in line. Carter was the one person that was banned from the store; something neither he or my boss were comfortable talking about. Driving home from work last week, I noticed Carter hanging around the stoop of the Old Post Office where he was having a smoke. Evading my gaze as I drove past him, it was clear that he was not wanting to anything to do with me. From what I had heard from gossiping woman at the Tim Hortons, Carter felt betrayed by me and my coworkers. `` Great...'' I thought to myself. `` He's pissed at me for sure.'' I decided I needed to talk to him about what had gone down that day. Just because he wasn't willing to talk about it with Selma Barrington didn't mean he'd hold out on the details from one of his best buddies. Kicking the cold steps before him, Carter looked up as I pulled up to the sidewalk. `` Leave me be,'' he urged. `` unless you're here to tell me you are leaving that shithole and going to work somewhere else.'' `` Maybe you should tell me what the hell is going on?'' I demanded. `` Nobody knows what the hell happened between you two, so why the hell would we take sides without knowing the facts?'' `` Obviously you don't, or you would have quit working for that freak.'' Carter retorted like a sulking child. Picturing him like a twelve year old made this situation seem less pathetic in my mind initially, but now I was beginning to get the sense that maybe I should take a step back and reorganize myself. `` Quit being so damn foolish.'' I told him as he suddenly stood up to walk away, pretending to ignore me. `` Really? So what now?'' `` That bastard...'' he grumbled after he stopped his retreat, facing opposite of me. `` Useless people like him have no business doing what he did.'' `` Vent all you need to,'' I assured him calmly. `` Would you just turn, face me, and tell me what he did to make you so furious.'' `` Xavier,'' he began as he turned around. `` You need to mind your own fucking business and back off.'''Z", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0682", "text": "outstanding post-secondary, bravo! But your high school grades were not so great, were they? You didn't get offered a scholarship did you? So Ma and Pa worked their land dead and pinched their pennies so you could go, but it wasn't enough was it? Yale is a pricey school. You had a loan, which put you under considerable debt, didn't you? You couldn't let your parents down and live with the guilt of breaking their bank for nothing, so you studied hard, too hard to party on the weekends, yes? Where does one like you find the time to develop an alcohol problem, hmm Phil?...'' `` Sir, I'm. I don't -'' `` Yes. I know you don't have a problem Phil. Not an alcohol problem anyway. You just have an anxiety problem... By now I've realized that your mind hasn't been on the job this last little bit, but why? You're ridiculous tie, atypical shoe shine and fanciful hair styling betray your delicate, anxious compulsions, your need for static routine... Today you planned on leaving 15 minutes early for lunch for a total of a 45 minute lunch break, but downtown on a Friday you could easily be held up 30 minutes just waiting for a table. Tell me Phil, she doesn't need consoling, does she? This isn't a spontaneously planned comfort lunch, is it?... Where is your reservation?'' Without breaking eye-contact, Doom's head pointed down slightly and his smile grew, as he stared at Phil in anticipation. `` C-c-c-chez Marko's'' `` I see. And that bulge in your pocket. It's an engagement ring, no?... How many months salary did you spend on it? Three? Sure, you spent three-months salary on it. You're a classy grass-roots boy Phil, with a strong compass to familial value. It's probably shaped like her favorite animal, you'd be attracted to a caring type, it's in your bones, Phil. Please, let me see it?'' Dumbfounded by Doom's remarkable accuracy, and afraid for his job, he pulled out the red velvet box and diffidently placed it on the desk. `` Open it boy, I'm not going to touch your girlfriends engagement ring.'' Phil opened the box with his paint-shaker hands. `` Cat's eyes... Yes.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 492, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0683", "text": "“ My plane crashed, ” I said, knowing I was now talking to thin air. Clearly I was delusional. “ Believe it or not, we have some medics here, ” Elvis told me as he took my hand and lead me back towards the jungle. “ Anyone else with you? ” “ They ’ re all dead, ” I replied, waiting for my delusion to pass and find myself on the beach as well, dying. “ The pilot I think was crushed and my other friend burned to death in front of my eyes. ” “ That ’ s unfortunate, ” a loud, booming voice said from somewhere nearby. It sounded really familiar. Just as we had reached some of the trees, I felt his giant hands scoop me up. Normally I ’ d have tried to resist. But apparently I was in a lot more pain than I realized. Lying back in his hands I felt some relief. “ Where are you from? ” the giant asked. “ Hawaii, ” I replied. “ My friend is, was, a pilot and was taking me and another friend out in his small jet. And then we crashed a little while later. ” “ That explains it, ” Elvis chimed in. “ In a sense you ’ re very lucky. Only a few people know how to find this island. Apparently you did, as otherwise you would have just crashed straight into the ocean. ” I ignored Elvis, his words further proof of my delusions. Well that and the fact that Andre the Giant was now carrying me into a jungle. The rock music got louder as we moved further in. “ A piece of my heart, ” blared through the jungle, audible to my ears. I knew that song. 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0684", "text": "And I can bring loathsome things to mind. The ignorant citizens who live under your command, in this illusion of a land of milk and honey, built on a graveyard, built on an infamy, a villainy so wretched, so dastardly it is unspeakable, they might wave your flag, bear your symbol, and praise you. But I -- I witnessed the bloodshed and destruction waged under that shape. I know the horrors your birthed into this world. I --'' `` Enough,'' he said calmly, like a grandfather, waving at me to stop. `` Enough. I know. I know those were horrible things that I did. I know that I am beyond repentance --'' `` Repentance?'' I exclaimed. `` Repentance? You are beyond all categories of humanity: repentance is for men who have sinned, perhaps sinned even mortally. And Hell is for men who sin mortally and are not allowed to repent, or are unable to do so properly. But you, you vile demon, you monster, you're too wretched for Hell. You'd poison it. You'd make Hell itself become ill, almost instantly. I can hardly believe the universe itself, the one you stride in, triumphantly, with your face, a face you should hate even the sight of, should feel sick at the sight of, as I do, plastered on ever street corner. Repent? No. You're a disease. A disease to reality that must be cut out.'' I lunged towards him. He lifted his hand and I froze, suspended in midair. I could move no part of my body but my mouth. `` What is this power?'' `` I have gained,'' he said, somewhat detached, somewhat sadly, `` great powers, unparalleled powers from the lives I stole. I brought them, their spirits, their energies, back into me, and now I have immense strength. I believe I am immortal. Fully deathless. A being of infinite knowledge and power and life.'' `` It's not possible, it's not possible --'' `` That the universe could be so unjust, to allow a vicious, heartless predator like me to gain such power from his acts of villainy? Yes. It hardly seems possible to me. But you must understand two things, my young friend, or, if not friend, for I see you wince at that epithet, then my young", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0685", "text": "his skin for the opportunity. This was what he wanted more than anything else. “ Aye, I believe you are. ” “ What is it then? ” His eyes sparkled, full of wonder. “ Your final test, ” Death didn ’ t break eye contact. “ Is to kill me. ” In an instant his excitement turned to confusion. His childish glee was gone and now replaced with a morbid understanding. Death remembers the day he too learned the truth while looking into his eyes. “ Why? ” He stammered. “ Because there can only be one Death, right? The rite of passage is that my prodigy must be the one to kill me so that he can take my power. You have been training your entire existence for this. ” “ I… I can ’ t do that. ” He averted his gaze. “ You have to. This is our fate. ” “ But you have been like a father to me for all this time. How do you expect me to kill you like you never cared for me? ” Death looked down on him. He had to hold back the sympathy, the emotions that he had learned to suppress so long ago. It only made the job harder. “ You can ’ t let your feelings cloud your judgment. Strike me down now and fulfill the Fates ’ wish. ” “ I don ’ t want to. ” The apprentice took a step back in defiance. This was his first act of rebellion. “ That wasn ’ t a request. It was a demand. ” “ But, ” The apprentice fumbled at the hem of his shirt. “ Where will you go when you die? ” Death pondered this, looking around as if for 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0686", "text": "There was nothing. All was black, but there was no darkness - just as there was no light. There were no senses to feel, emotions to hold or thoughts to wander through. He was weightless. Free. For a very long time, there was just nothing. Until it all came back. First, everything was dark and gentle. When it came, everything shook. With a painful, white flash of light, a weight came crashing down upon him. It rattled even his bones, while the light forced the darkness around him to break open. With the light pushing away the darkness, he felt a terrible weight on his shoulders. His mind, clouded at first, began to ache as feelings and thoughts returned. As his senses returned more and more, the pain grew too strong for any human to bear - it spread throughout his whole body, filling even every single hair. There was air, again, and it was pushed out of his lungs. He remembered others, himself and the world. And finally, he realized that his return to the world was inevitable. The world was painful, and he'd been happy to have left it. These thoughts alone made him choke. Powerful feelings of hatred, sadness and disgust filled him. They made him weak. Then, there came glimmers of happiness and a spark of love that soon exploded. It made him strong. Those negative and positive feelings clashed with all their weight, making him feel like his insides were twisted. Together, they neither made him weak nor strong - they just left him without any balance. & nbsp; He puked... and realized that he was already taken away from death and back to in life. & nbsp; His whole body shaking and aching without any strength, he could n't even try to stand up. Not yet, anyway. The sun was uncomfortably hot and contributed further to his sweating, while the ice cold wind felt like it tried to cut his sticky-sweaty skin. He was freezing. And he was too warm. His head was dizzy and he felt sick. He was not ready to return. But if he did n't now, he'd never be - and there probably would n't be anything to return to, either. & nbsp; Biting down on his lower lip, he finally opened his eyes to a world both too bright and too dark. & nbsp; **... **", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 488, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0687", "text": "Stela Malsano confounded every epidemiologist, even someone as knowledgeable as Dr. Anna Walker. Most diseases, you see, spread from an initial vector of infection. A man stumbles into a garbage heap with an open sore and picks up a dangerous bacterium which proceeds to multiply in his body, then spreads it around by coughing and vomiting. A woman orders an exotic undercooked fish at a Japanese sushi restaurant harboring pathogens from the ocean and kisses her children at home. Once the responsible anchors itself in the host, it starts to reproduce and eventually breaks free to infect others. The self-catalytic process repeats itself until it either runs out of hosts, is contained, or simply expires. Not Stela Malsano. When it erupted, it did so instantly around the entire globe as though someone had suddenly pulled a lever, flipped a switch, pressed a button. Entire families on the far side of the earth awoke screaming with vivid hallucinations. Chaos ensued on the highways as drivers seized with convulsions and caught in the grip of lifelike trances lost control of their vehicles, often fatally. Dr. Anna, attending a colloquium on multiverse influence at the University of Illinois, bore witness to the entire room suddenly get up and run around screaming with lunatic abandon. Some thought the zombie apocalypse had begun; others were convinced that the Rapture was imminent. For a terrifying moment of penetrating clarity Anna wondered if the entire world had gone mad leaving her as the sole sane observer; almost as quickly, the rational part of her mind suggested the logical counterexample that she might be the only madwoman in a world of normalized lunacy. She was tall for a woman, over six feet in height, with a stern sharp handsomeness to her features. Persistent asthma had plagued her since her late teenage years, but even now as a well-respected professor in her late forties she could force her way past the young graduate student raving about lunar light and barricade herself in her office in the Department of Epidemiology. Panicked screams seeped through the walls in muffled bursts like corrosive waves of toxic miasma and Dr. Anna fumbled for her phone. Her children. Please let them be alright. Risking a peek outside the office window unveiled the panorama of pandemonium; every human seemed to have gone mad simultaneously outside, running drunkenly into sides of buildings, stumbling, falling, rising up to do it again", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0688", "text": "Bright light wakes me, my clothes are damp from sweat. I think to myself `` how the hell did I get so hot, I never turn the heat on in my apartment and it's only April.'' Reluctant to open my eyes, I lean myself up and sit avoiding the light. I'm dreading today, like most days. I wish I could just sleep, or lay, or something other than moving from where I am. It's so hot I cant stay here in these clothes, I think as I wipe sweat from my forehead. My eyelids slowly open and the red seeps in quickly and powerfully. My heart beat quickens. Where am I? This doesn't look familiar. I thought I was just waking up, from my bed. I've never even been out of my home town, how could I possibly not recognize where I was. Scanning my memory I try to recollect what the last thing I did was. I can not. Oh, yes I was... my eyes lock on to a casually walking figure in the distance. Happy to not be alone, and the thought of some explanation briefly gives my racing heart a relief. I stay seated trying to make sense of what's happening. As the man walks closer, I pick myself up panting from the heat and my anxiety. With his hand outstretched he greets me, `` Hi.'' He helps me from my knee to stand the rest of the way up. `` Who are you?'' He asks, in a tone that matched my own disheveled demeanor. `` I... I'm Sean'' I stammer, only half sure. Most of my brain is still reconstructing my new reality. I've never been in 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", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0689", "text": "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. Perry as he walks out of the room and comes back a few seconds later with a little girl no more than two feet with a yellow toy squeezed tightly in her arms. `` Bela.. Come her and give your old man a kiss,'' I say weakly, the words barely escaping my mouth. She runs towards me and climbs up into the bed, and kissing me in the forehead. She lays down beside me and holds my hand. Life will only be good with her on my side. I think she's asleep. `` Doc, do it. Now.'' Doctor Perry responded with a look. I know he understands. `` But Mr. Stone, your parents --'' `` Please, call me Xavier. And I don't want my parents here. I don't want them waking Bela up. This is my last request, Dr. Perry. Help a dying man out?'' He hesitated at first, then he taps me on my shoulder. `` I hope it has been a good life, Mr. Stone. I mean, Xavier,'' he said. I look at my daughter for the last time. `` Its never been this good, Doc.'' I smile. She was the last thing I saw. My eyes closed automatically, and I felt like I was flying. Damn, I thought. Death was a better drug than any combined. I feel the softness of her hand leave me, and that was it. For a fraction of a second, I was certain that I was dead.... A flash of white light overwhelmed me. I was in a daze. I felt unsteady, but soon, I realize that I could open my eyes. My surroundings are starting to form into something. A room.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 494, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0690", "text": "The Joker was going to die now- that he knew. But not before he broke the Bat, the Bing a Ding, the Bruce, Darrrrrrling. After today, Gotham would see their beloved dark knight fall. These were the thoughts that went through Joker's mind as the fists rained down. And he couldn't help but laugh, because, oh, it was just too funnnnny. `` AhahahaAHAHAHA- hahAHAHHA-hAHAHA!'' `` IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED, JOKER,'' grunts the Bat, rage clouding his eyes. He slams his fists down onto Joker's chest, and there is an audible crack as ribs break. Joker had gone too far this time, they both knew it. He'd attached a bomb to an unsuspecting girl scout, and made her sell cookies to Bruce. And then, after he'd sampled the cookies so obliviously, the dumb girl had tried to tell dear Master Wayne her secret, and Joker had no choice to blow her up, really. What a shame- Joker was sure there was a joke in there somewhere. Maybe about thin mints. Then the Bat had come after Joker, and this time Joker wanted to be found. Cameras surrounded their fight- but of course the Bat had no idea. The fists kept coming. `` NO MORE,'' the Bat moaned as dropped another punch. `` No more deaths.'' He felt something quivering inside of him. Joker spat out a tooth. `` What's wrong, Batsy? Are you feeling a little... squeamish?'' Joker grinned, and cackled. Batman stepped off of Joker's beaten and bloodied body. He drew a gun. The gun he'd taken from the man who'd killed his parents, a gun it had taken him years to find. The gun that he'd kept for all this time, saving it for this moment- to finally end his greatest foe. Joker grinned. Here it'd come. The cameras were rolling. `` DO IT, BATS, BABY. DO IT!'' Batman took the shot. It hit Joker square in the chest, and went perfectly through his heart. A second later, a huge flood of diarrhea exploded into Batman's pants. The cameras- linked to social medias and news outlets- captured the dark brown stain, obviously spreading through Batman's grey suit. The Joker laughed. `` Laxy laxatives", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 499, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0691", "text": "how, in this world, did your wife manage to keep from scarring?'' `` Well, you see,'' he said with a wink, `` she's not my wife, but my daughter.'' I was taken aback. `` Still….How?'' `` Well, she's not entirely flawless. She can't tell a joke and her cooking's lousy! Takes after her mother I guess!'' Laughing, he said, `` Take a look at her finger.'' I peered at the daughter, she offered her right hand and I saw a thin bright streak of red on her index finger. The man pulled me in, `` I'm gon na tell you a story.'' `` Long ago, when I was married, I swore never to have kids. I didn't want any children to be born into this world, so that was that. But my wife had other plans, and so my daughter was born. I fell in love with her and swore to devote my life to her. As she grew, though, I began to worry.'How would I protect her from the world?' So I set out to every doctor, physician, and scientist I could find, asking for a cure. Of course, if there was a cure already, no one would be like this.'' He cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and continued. `` On one particular visit to a doctor, I had my daughter with me and upon exiting the building, I met a man dressed all in black. I immediately thought,'This must be the devil' and turned heel back into the building. 'Wait,' the man in black said,'I can save your daughter.' I was skeptical and scoffed,'What for my soul?' He replied,'I am bored with just bartering with souls, I am more interested in it's durability.' The devil continued, giggling,'You see, I do have the power to stop your daughter's scarring, but I'm not a very charitable person.' 'What do you want?' I asked. 'I want you to partake in a very simple wager,' he said,'Your daughter won't get scars, but *you* will; more specifically, very scar your daughter gets will be transferred to you. If you can manage this wager, you keep your soul, if not, well, you know what will happen.''' I was dumbstruck that he took the deal, and that he managed to last this long.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0692", "text": "of the recent cave in. He could only save 5 of the 20 workers. He was forced to stop twice along the way. Once for a kite in a tree, once for a robbery in progress. Clamping the barrel of the gun closed, the robber pulled the trigger blowing the gun in to shards of shrapnel. The crook told him to expect a call from his lawyer. “ I ’ m sorry David, there ’ s nothing else we can do for you. ” The loan officer said. “ Please, I ’ m bidding a job tomorrow. I can get an advance and pay off my late dues ” “ You ’ re out of time son. I ’ m sorry. ” Dave stood to leave. “ Oh, before you go, could you sign this picture. My grandson loves Deadlift. ” “ Really? After telling me that you ’ re taking my home you want a fucking autograph? ” “ There ’ s no reason to be rude about it. ” Dave grabbed the pen and the picture, snapping the delicate pen in the process. He flung the door open, crushing the handle. He walked out to the table with the pens on the chain as the paparazzi forced their way into the bank. “ Deadlift, What ’ s the news on your charity appearances? ” “ Deadlift, any comment on the recent YouTube video of you drunk in public? ” “ No comment. Backup. ” “ Deadlift, Is there any truth to the accusation that your burst the water main on fourth, leaving the hospital without water? ” “ No. Please back up. ” A shorter bald man stepped up, setting off a flash in Dave ’ s face. “ Hey Deadlift, that a foreclosure notice in your hand? With all these lawsuits I guess you ’ re just as bad at keeping the lights on as you are at keeping people save ” “ I said back up! ” David swung his left hand into the paparazzi, sending them flying into the wall. “ I ’ m…I ’ m sorry ” Dave muttered The bald paparazzo stumbled to his feet. “ haha, Deadlift assaults journalist. This is a great story and my shoulder is killing me. Thanks for the payout you lug ” he said, snapping a picture. In the span of the flash Dave was arm ’ s length from the paparazzo. Dave grabbed him by the neck and slammed him into the wall. “ Do you know what it", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0693", "text": "dressed in a striped blue conductors uniform sat in the driver's seat. He adjusted his microphone headset towards his mouth and clutched his Donald Duck name tag. The song cut out and there was a large crackle. `` Welcome to Disneyland, my name is Don.'' His voice echoed for a few seconds in every direction. `` I believe this is the trolley you have been waiting for to take YOU into the magical world of disney. Hop in, only two seats left with your names on it.'' Don gave a wide square toothed grin. `` I don't like this guy's tooth to gum ratio, it gives me the creeps.'' Celia whispered. `` Not everyone can get their mug fixed like you did....get in the trolley.'' Angelo walked forward and smiled at Don, getting ready to speak in the highest voice he could muster. `` Thanks Mr. Don, I can't wait!'' Celia rolled her eyes and walked back towards the empty seats in purple cart B. Angelo raced after her, keeping in perfect disguise. The automatic trolley cart door swung open. Angelo and Celia climbed in, making sure to not bump the kid wearing a goofy baseball cap next to them in the third seat. The kid. Angelo realized there was something odd about the kids legs. They seemed awfully hairy. `` Sorry you guys, just scoot in.'' Don let out an unnerving chuckle through his mic as the doors slowly shut and locked. The trolley lurched forward and began moving down the road. Goofy's familiar voice started again, this time explaining proper safety while riding the trolley. Angelo turned towards Celia. `` This shit was easier then I thought....it gave me such a rush... I need a fucking cigarette. Angelo then heard rustling behind him. `` Here bro, keep it a secret.'' The kid next to him flicked a Pall Mall onto his lap. Angelo forgot himself for a second and let out an angry whisper. `` What the fuck kid, a ten year old ain't supposed to be smokin!'' Celia leaned over to look at the boy who shifted back in his seat. `` I am forty-five numbnuts, you think you are the only one with bright ideas? Economy is tough. You think you are the only one who had some brilliant plans to get a discount?'' Without responding, Angelo looked around and realized that almost all of the children on the t", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0694", "text": ", I won't tell your mother.'' `` I --'' I stammered. I wasn't sure what to say. I decided to avoid most subjects I would have brought up. But my aunt was still chattering. `` You silly goose, I think you got the time wrong for the party. You were a couple of hours *early* for our party. The family was still setting up.'' She paused, and gave me a nudge. She whispered, `` You know, part of me thinks that you came by early on purpose just to get a head start on the booze. I know how you college kids are.'' She winked and continued. `` Your uncle and cousins were hanging out in the yard, and we didn't hear you come in over the music. I was out there too, because Scottie had escaped again and I was looking at her in the woods, that rascal dog! But I found her after a minute. And when we all came inside a while later, we found you passed out on the kitchen floor, and we all had ourselves a good laugh!'' I sat there, still squinting in the too-bright light, utterly confused. For appearances' sake, I decided to smile a little and nod. `` Well'', said my aunt, patting my leg affectionately, `` Come down when you feel ready and join the party. Everyone's here! And when you're ready, we have your eye patch for when you want to be a pirate for us.'' Aunt Steph giggled like a little girl, and added, `` You know, when I was younger, my mom used to tell me that I was magical, and if I hold my hand over my left eye, my right eye could see all the wrongs of mankind. How bizarre, now that I think about it. But I guess if you wear an eye patch all the time, I imagine you'd have a weird, permanent sin-vision.'' She shrugged, and stood up, walking towards the door. My heart rate sped up at this impossible statement. I was too old to believe in superstitious stories like this, but if that were true, it was the only way that my aunt would be ignorant of the sexual interrelationships of her family. My heart burned for her, and my stomach felt sick, as I allowed myself for a few moments to believe that my eye patch had somehow revealed the truth of this family to me. How", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 497, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0695", "text": "abil. I could still see them, emptying their pockets and bags for another group of warriors. Never thought I would be longing to tangle with the celestial TSA. Then the gatekeeper spotted me and his eyes narrowed. He picked a few warriors out of the ring of guards and pointed toward me. `` Bring him here.'' I started backing up as they advanced. `` Do you have any idea what you've done?'' the gatekeeper asked. `` Any idea what a mess this has been? Dumping duplicates on our doorstep day after day, without anywhere to put them?'' `` We didn't know,'' I said. What else was there to say? `` We had no idea.'' `` These are good people!'' the gatekeeper shouted. He was really getting into it, now that he had a target for his frustrations. `` They belong here! Do you know what it's been like, shoving them away from paradise because they're already inside?'' It was the woman who suddenly got it. One of her, anyway. I saw the realization dawn on her face just before she pointed and yelled, `` You killed me! You bastard, you killed me eighteen times!'' Suddenly the mob was more interested in me than the ring of feathered soldiers. They flowed around the angels advancing on me, all determined to reach me first. `` We'll get this sorted out,'' the gatekeeper said. `` We sorted out Hiroshima and Nagasaki. We sorted out Auschwitz. We sorted out Mao. It may take years, but we'll sort this out. And I'll tell you one thing for sure. You're damned. You, and everyone else who had any part in this, lost any place past these gates you ever had.'' I ran. I'm not ashamed to say it. I ran, and ran, and ran. I ran until I couldn't run anymore. It seemed unfair, that I would get tired here. That I still had the limitations of stamina even after I had died. But I did, and the mob was close behind. Then, just as they closed, I heard a faint beeping. It slowly faded in, and the mob grew faint, and the expanse around me grew dark. The last thing I remember seeing, before it all slipped away like a bad dream, was that woman slashing at me with her car keys. They bit into my hand as I raised it to protect my eyes. And then came", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0696", "text": "He waited a few more moments, the tense air around him spoke great lengths. His soldiers were dirty, tired, hungry, and needed a good morale boost. Taking the enemy Magus and mounting his head would be a good start to boosting that morale. The German's food and much-better built trenches would be even better. He heard a few buckets clang over head. It meant only one thing, the German's had approached *their* kill zone. He clenched his hand in a fist and then rushed over the trench. `` Go! Go! G --'' The gunfire drowned out his words as he and his platoon lunged upwards and opened fire on the German's in front of him. Yet, as he quickly realized, there were only a few Germans in his field of view, all of which hit the ground as they dove over the trenches. Instead, he and his platoon were trapped in the enemy Magus' sights, who was rolling in on a large, armored troop transport. His hands were flying over his head in rapid motions and a squad of elite German troopers hung loosely on the side. The gunfire died down as everyone realized the gravity of the situation. William's eyes drifted towards his own Magus, who was now, again, readying a yellow aura in his hands. It was up to the Magus, William knew that, to defend himself and the King's army from destruction. He was almost done and the Magus let loose his hands above him. William was closest and the first to be wrapped in the yellow aura, but just as he was, the enemy Magus released his own red aura, which erupted in a flash of light. The two bounced against each other, Magus powers intertwining and wrapped both friend and foe in aura's of death and protection. The yellow and red mixed together, binding destructive and restorative power together in something that William had never seen before. The ensuing blast from the two powers combining knocked him to his feet. He felt that it must have been hours before he came to -- in truth it was only a few minutes -- and he carefully lifted his head upwards from the mud and dirt. In front of him, the armored transport was turned over and four or five Germans laid dead next to it. In front of that, William counted at least a dozen British soldiers overturned, mangled, or completely decimated. He could hear voices, noises that approached him, yet the enemy Magus was", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0697", "text": "didn't sound so comatose last night.'' `` Yeah,'' Aubrey grinned mischievously, and tossed her black hair over her shoulder. `` I have my special ways with the likes of him. Nothing a good girl like you would understand.'' `` Shut up.'' Already the shock of the shower was wearing off of Katie. It was all a prank. She stood up, and wrapped the towel around herself. `` Let's clean up this mess you've made. I have to take a real shower before work.'' Aubrey rose gracefully. `` I'll get some scrubbers and cleaning solution from the kitchen.'' Katie nodded, and returned to the bathroom. The water was still running, and Katie could now see that it was fake blood flowing from the shower. It was too bright for blood, and it wasn't as thick as it should be. God she was stupid. Katie looked at the mess she had made in her fright. The bath mats were kicked up, toiletries were knocked from the sink, and the shower curtain lay torn on the floor. She picked up the remains of the curtain, folded it, and placed it on the toilet seat. She straightened the mats, and then took a whiff of the bathroom. That heavy, defiling odor still hung in the air. `` Hey Aubrey?'' Katie shouted as she turned off the shower. A call came from the hallway. `` What's up?'' `` I have one more question. How did you get the fake blood to smell like that?'' Aubrey stepped into the doorway with the cleaning supplies. `` Secret ingredient. If I told you, I'd have to kill you.'' Katie chuckled. `` Yeah, right.'' Aubrey placed cleaning solution, two scrub brushes, and a roll of paper towels on the sink. She switched on the fan in the ceiling, and a nervous whirring filled the room. `` Hey, take off the shower head so I can clean it out.'' `` Ok.'' Katie stepped carefully into the shower, and turned the shower head counterclockwise. A spurt of red liquid squirted on her as she yanked it off, and she stopped, staring blankly at the shower head. `` What's up?'' Aubrey inquired, pulling a paring knife from her back pocket. Katie's heart began to pound, louder than the ventilation fan, louder than the howling wind outside, louder than her own hurried breaths.", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 498, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0698", "text": "`` Only three days! The world tour was n't for another month!'' His wife said. `` I know.'' The soon to be blind man replied. `` How could they not know?'' She asked, now pacing up and down the living room. `` How can you be so calm about?'' She asked, looking at him with his hands folded on the couch. `` I guess it has n't sunk in yet.'' He replied, idly twiddling his fingers. `` Or maybe I do n't want to spend the last three days freaking out.'' `` You're right.'' His wife said, stopping her pacing. `` I'm sorry.'' She sat down next to him and put a hand on his leg. `` Do you know what you want to do? We can go absolutely anywhere. I'll call in sick first thing tomorrow morning and we'll take the whole week to do whatever you want.'' `` You know swee-'' `` Anywhere at all, we can go see the pyramids, the grand canyon. Go SCUBA diving on the great barrier reef. Well maybe that's too far.'' `` Sweetie-'' `` Seriously, it does n't matter, the world is our clam. Or whatever the phrase is. I know you always wanted to go to Iceland, it's pretty gorgeous. We could stop by Ireland, then see Stonehedge. Anything at all.'' `` Stop.'' The husband said. `` I've got three days, and there's only thing I want to remember when it all goes black.'' He said, reaching out to touch her face. `` Only one thing.''", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 329, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}
+{"id": "narrative_train_pos_0699", "text": "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 absolutely astonished at the one line in the center of his will. Have Ben come to my house after reading this. “ This is it? Have Ben come to take my crap? The nineteen year old? Really? He hasn ’ t even started college! ” My aunt said. I shook my head. “ Wouldn ’ t the will be with his wife since she is the closest family member? ” I looked at the lawyer who gave us the will. “ He told me that it need to get to you. ” I drove straight to his house afterwards. I needed answers. His house is in a remote area in the forest, west of where I live. It ’ s around a two hour drive. I found a key was taped to the door. I used it to get inside. The freezing air was the first thing to hit me after opening the door. I went to retrieve a coat from my car. I began to explore the house. It ’ s a modern house that really sticks out in this forest. I looked around all of the main floor and found nothing but a big metal door with a number pad next to it. I pressed my fingers against the door and it was freezing. This must be the lab. If I knew the code I could explore it and get some answers. I continued to explore the house by heading upstairs. I arrived to find a woman in a hospital bed down the hall. Her room was the only room with the door open. As I began to walk toward her, she turned her head and looked at me. “ You must be Ben. ” She said weakly, holding out an envelope. I took it, ripped it open, and begin reading the letter inside. By the time you read", "label": 1, "domain": "fiction", "token_count": 500, "matched_pair_id": null, "split": "train"}