Homercidal
Newbie
- Joined
- Sep 23, 2003
- Messages
- 399
- Reaction score
- 0
The computer monitor flickers within the dark confines of the small room. An arrhythmic monotony bringing neither joy nor relief. For the man sitting in the chair watching the screen, life has no meaning. It has become a seemingly endless progression of moving images and sound.
His thoughts are focused on the screen in front of him, his outside awareness all but void. His concentration is intense, yet he is still able to turn his thoughts within. He remembers what it was like to see the light of day, the green grass, the smell of the breeze on a warm spring day. He yearns for that again, but he is unable to remove his hands from the keyboard in front of him. He comes to the realization that this existence will be all he will know until his destiny is fulfilled.
A sharp pain in his abdomen snaps his attention back. For a moment he believes he has been injured, but it lasts but briefly. Though he is focused on the screen in front of him, he knows that his bladder has begun to stretch to the point of discomfort. He tries to ignore it, but it is now a constant source of irritation. Why can't he be left alone? The thought of being without the stimulation his screen and speakers gave was both thrilling and terrifying. He finally focuses his full attention back to the screen. He has made his choice. His knows now where his life belongs.
A knock at his door. He doesn't hear it. A voice, pleading, falls on deaf ears. As the light outside his window begins to fail, he doesn't notice. He has already blocked the light with a blanket, wrapping himself in the darkness. His only light comes from the monitor in front of him.
Time passes without his awareness. The urgent pressing within his lower abdomen returns. He can no longer keep it from distracting him. The lights on his screen flash slower. With less of his attention needed there, he spares what he can of his attention to end the irritation within. With the relief in his bladder comes the warm smell of his body fluid. He turns a corner on his screen and his sense of smell has disappeared. His pain diminished, he immerses himself back into his now-living world
Again time passes, but he is oblivious. His actions now a deadly dance of reflexive motions, he moves among the buildings within his mind. Enemies attack. They are repelled. Their life ended in a spray of gore. He has no time for remorse, his only thought is to stay alive and to keep moving toward his final destiny and the sweet relief it promises.
He blinks and his eyes sting. They are dry. He is too compelled to close them enough. It would be too dangerous to close his eyes. His hands are dripping in sweat, his throat is dry, his lap is still wet. He has already forgotten them all.
Again there are voices, and again he doesn't hear. They are louder now, but he ignores. He cannot afford to lose his concentration. The darkness outside his window is being replaced with the golden-orange glow of a new day. The voices are gone again. He is in absolute peace.
The movements on his screen are more frantic now. His whole body aches from the strain of maintaining his focus. The scenes and sounds are nothing to him. His hands respond without awareness. The action is now at a feverish pitch, his very being is twisted as he strains against the evil has has encountered. An eternity passes as he struggles with the Thing. It is a cataclysmic fight to the death. His fear rises as his enemy appears more capable than he could ever imagine!
Then, suddenly, it is over. His foe is vanquished in a momentous climax of flashing light, thundering sound, and violent internecion. He is barely alive, but he is alive. His mind is incapable of comprehending the magnitude of the moment. Then relief washes over his body. The feeling is greater then when he had earlier voided his bladder. He still doesn't know that he has not gotten up from his seat since before that time.
The screen goes dark and his attention is once again captured. What passes before his eyes is more compelling than anything he has seen before. Scrolling in front of his eyes; a list of names. one of them stands out from the rest and he recognizes it.
Valve.
His Master.
He, The Slave.
His thoughts are focused on the screen in front of him, his outside awareness all but void. His concentration is intense, yet he is still able to turn his thoughts within. He remembers what it was like to see the light of day, the green grass, the smell of the breeze on a warm spring day. He yearns for that again, but he is unable to remove his hands from the keyboard in front of him. He comes to the realization that this existence will be all he will know until his destiny is fulfilled.
A sharp pain in his abdomen snaps his attention back. For a moment he believes he has been injured, but it lasts but briefly. Though he is focused on the screen in front of him, he knows that his bladder has begun to stretch to the point of discomfort. He tries to ignore it, but it is now a constant source of irritation. Why can't he be left alone? The thought of being without the stimulation his screen and speakers gave was both thrilling and terrifying. He finally focuses his full attention back to the screen. He has made his choice. His knows now where his life belongs.
A knock at his door. He doesn't hear it. A voice, pleading, falls on deaf ears. As the light outside his window begins to fail, he doesn't notice. He has already blocked the light with a blanket, wrapping himself in the darkness. His only light comes from the monitor in front of him.
Time passes without his awareness. The urgent pressing within his lower abdomen returns. He can no longer keep it from distracting him. The lights on his screen flash slower. With less of his attention needed there, he spares what he can of his attention to end the irritation within. With the relief in his bladder comes the warm smell of his body fluid. He turns a corner on his screen and his sense of smell has disappeared. His pain diminished, he immerses himself back into his now-living world
Again time passes, but he is oblivious. His actions now a deadly dance of reflexive motions, he moves among the buildings within his mind. Enemies attack. They are repelled. Their life ended in a spray of gore. He has no time for remorse, his only thought is to stay alive and to keep moving toward his final destiny and the sweet relief it promises.
He blinks and his eyes sting. They are dry. He is too compelled to close them enough. It would be too dangerous to close his eyes. His hands are dripping in sweat, his throat is dry, his lap is still wet. He has already forgotten them all.
Again there are voices, and again he doesn't hear. They are louder now, but he ignores. He cannot afford to lose his concentration. The darkness outside his window is being replaced with the golden-orange glow of a new day. The voices are gone again. He is in absolute peace.
The movements on his screen are more frantic now. His whole body aches from the strain of maintaining his focus. The scenes and sounds are nothing to him. His hands respond without awareness. The action is now at a feverish pitch, his very being is twisted as he strains against the evil has has encountered. An eternity passes as he struggles with the Thing. It is a cataclysmic fight to the death. His fear rises as his enemy appears more capable than he could ever imagine!
Then, suddenly, it is over. His foe is vanquished in a momentous climax of flashing light, thundering sound, and violent internecion. He is barely alive, but he is alive. His mind is incapable of comprehending the magnitude of the moment. Then relief washes over his body. The feeling is greater then when he had earlier voided his bladder. He still doesn't know that he has not gotten up from his seat since before that time.
The screen goes dark and his attention is once again captured. What passes before his eyes is more compelling than anything he has seen before. Scrolling in front of his eyes; a list of names. one of them stands out from the rest and he recognizes it.
Valve.
His Master.
He, The Slave.
