No.37
His sunken eyes were fixed on the screen. Its incandescent glow was all that illuminated his room, engulfed in blackness like a monastic cell. He couldn't feel the wet clothes sticking to the flesh. He was elsewhere. The keyboard, slick with sweat, projected his soul through into an endless stream of content. He could feel it surging beneath his skin like heroin through an addict's veins. Bare breasts, orgies of flesh, hands caressing nude body parts decapitated by the lens, cute girls in idol dress copulating, moaning, penetrated by hordes of faceless men. Intensity increasing. And then it ended. Drenched in his own fluids, he fell back into his seat exhausted tearing the wires from the headphone jack. Suddenly he was back in the real world. Fallen like Adam from a cybernetic Garden of Eden he felt like reality had suddenly been pulled from beneath him. Yanked from the machine by the limits of the body's biochemistry he fell back to earth too mentally drained to move. Pure bliss overcome now by a deep inner feeling of longing and disgust and that icy cold shiver brought on by the familiar pangs of guilt. He longed for pain. He longed for pleasure. For something. Sprawled back in his seat like a corpse he glanced over to his S26 .. 03:12 AM. "Damn... 4 hours? fuck... work tomorrow...." Still breathing heavily he closed his eyes and tried vainly to sleep.
No.38
>>37Then, out of no where, a massive Gondola came bursting into the room and murdered the main character in cold blood (he didn't like him). The creature, the Gondola, showered with brown fur, had no arms, was about seven feet tall, and bared the face of bear. It spoke in a fast paced Finnish prose; so as to confuse passer-bys. The Gondola then walked out of the room and into the kitchen and began to prepare...
No.42
>>38... a continental breakfast: bacon and eggs, orange juice, breakfast sausages. Despite the otaku clutter in the bedroom, main character kept a well-stocked kitchen. Maybe he had wanted to become a cook. Maybe. The Gondola wiped its forehead. The steam from the bacon and eggs crept into its matted fur, twisted with mud dingleberries, and it made the Gondola feel soggy. But the Gondola soldiered on with the breakfast, whistling some Finnish folk song all the while. He had forgotten the lyrics. Something about a revenant. If it had stopped whistling, the Gondola might have noticed that in the bedroom ...
No.48
Gondola stopped. He begun to scan the room for information, anything that could piece together the worthless otaku he'd just relieved of existence. He started at the employee ID pulled from a cum drenched wallet "Kirito Wakamatsu. Age: 26. Technician" Employer? "Himazawa Corporation" Slowly begun to contort his face, painfully tearing flesh and sinew, reshaping his bones as his master had taught him until he bore the resemblance of the man he'd just killed. This is it. This is how he'd hide from THEM, by hijacking the otaku's identity he could lay low all while infiltrating the Himazawa clan to boot. The Gondola went back to whistling the folk song but decided to finish the JAV film still running on Wakamatsu's PC. Nudity was a good thing. He needed to shape the rest of his body to look like the otaku and the semen dripping from the seats was the perfect DNA sample. Gondola stood up, penis still erect, and begun to cry a heroic villainous laugh, even though he's the good guy in this story despite murdering a defenseless computer programmer and defiling his corpse. Whatever. You should be more worried about THEM.