Why won’t Bitcoin die? The Verge

READ ME: Part 3


READ ME: Part 1
READ ME: Part 2
It was a few days of me relaxing just taking in the mellow mood that our Cecily- turned sea creature left me with her musical talents. Cecily also gifted me with a relaxing feeling.
It helped my anxiety in a way I can’t explain. I fed Doby, the fish I confiscated from the magical book, and bought him a new tank for my kitchen. I think he was another gift from Cecily. I was just happy I was able to put her soul to rest.
I spent all that Saturday setting up the sea salt tank fit with plants. Typically, it took time to set up a tank, but I didn’t exactly have time to do that with Doby. I even got him a few companions to keep him company.
Then a few days later, as I was feeding Doby admiring the new purple and turquoise blue decor, I felt a sudden need to cut my wrist. I felt like I was in a trance.
I walked over to the kitchen, opening the drawer pulling out a sharp knife, I began slicing my arm. I didn’t bleed much, but I had this overwhelming, depressing feeling coming over me. Then I heard my television pop on all by itself.
There was a news story about a young girl about sixteen years old that had gone missing. The report was dated three years ago. I knew then it was the book. Dropping the knife, I ran to get a paper towel and some alcohol to clean the wound I created.
I heard guns firing lasers, and I saw a blue light illuminating from the book. I took a big gulp; what was I getting myself into?
I opened the book to THE MURDER SHOW, which was the next story I was to read, and took a deep breath. I looked down and could see a tiny television featuring two teenagers playing a video game in a room. It was like I was watching a movie. One of them had short bleach blonde hair, the other had long black hair, and I recognized her as the missing teenage girl from the news that had just been featured on my television.
Instead of reading this story, I was watching it. I was hearing her voice inside of my mind, or maybe it was out loud. I couldn’t tell anymore.
I looked at the pages before me. They were turning on their own like an old fashioned picture book. I watched a girl as her eyes turned and faced me.
She had black hair, dark eyes, and pale skin. She had a black t-shirt on with a ton of bracelets. Her thin face was pretty, but she didn’t smile.
Instead, I could do nothing except listen to the story titled:
THE MURDER SHOW
My name is Andrea Becker, and as long as I could remember, I wanted to die.
I know it sounds strange, but I looked at death as that permanent nostalgic return to your soul.
I swear I’m not a freak. I know I look the part, don’t get me wrong. I am cliche for someone my age.
Let me begin by telling you how it all began.
When I was ten years old, my grandparents were visiting from out of town. My grandmother was taking a shower, and when she got out, she screamed for my mother as she was having chest pains. She fell over onto the bathroom floor. The EMT’s were there in record time; maybe it was slow- I just know it was all a blur. I watched them trying to bring my grandmother back. My grandpa wasn’t home; he had gone shopping with my dad and older brother. So, I had a front-row to the tragic end of a woman I had loved so much.
Then I knew the exact moment she died. I saw her ghost or her soul, whatever you believe. It floated out of her body, and it LOOKED at me! My grandmother’s spirit looked at me and smiled. I knew then everything would be fine, but it wasn’t about me. It was about how at peace she was. I longed for that peace.
I lost my grandpa a few years later, but my grandmother’s death stuck with me. I started reading everything in the end. I knew it wasn’t simple science like some claim. You do leave your body when you die. Where you go is anyone’s guess, I just know what I saw that day my grandma died.
I had never considered killing myself. That was too weird. Then one day, my best friend, Carla, told me she liked to cut herself. She showed me her scars on her wrists. I was taken back by her self-harm.
“What if you go too deep?” I asked her.
“I have a couple of times, but I have gotten good at stitching myself up,” she smirked.
“Doesn’t it hurt?” I asked her.
“Yeah, but sometimes it is the only way I can feel things. I just feel like the world gets to be too much sometimes, and I want to escape it. I just don’t want to die.”
That is when I looked at her. “I have always wanted to die,” I said tears in my eyes.
“What you mean, like kill yourself?”
“No, just be at peace.”
“I feel at peace after I feel that rush. Like I get a rush from the pain for a second, and it makes me less - I dunno how to explain it.”
“I get it,” I said, and my friend had become my best friend.
I never told her, but I started self-harming after that. I had to know if it would give me the peace that I longed for when my grandmother showed me that look in her eyes. Like AT LAST, she could rest!
Sadly, over the next few years, Carla and I stopped being so close. She started hanging with a posh stuck up crowd. I still craved death. There was little in common with the mean girls' squad.
At seventeen, I had become close friends with a guy named Paul, whom I had a lot in common. We both enjoyed Mr. Fraziers English class, played tons of video games, and enjoyed hacking.
Not like professional hacking, just silly stuff like the local website to our local pizza shop. We hacked into it to say that all the prices had been reduced to 99cents. Silly kid stuff. We were never caught.
Then one day, Paul came over with two of his laptops.
“I have to show you something.” He said to me, excitedly.
“You ever been on the dark web?”
I shook my head. “No way!”
“It isn’t all weirdos; I buy stupid shit on there like electronics. Lots of black market stuff. It isn’t all organs and creepers doing things to people.”
“You aren’t messing with those sites, are you?” I asked him, concerned.
“No, I just found one, though. I can’t tell if they are serious. It’s called THE MURDER SHOW.”
“What the hell, Paul?”
“No, I have everything blocked. They can’t find us. I wanted you to see these comments. It freaked me out.”
“You are on the DARK WEB PAUL!” I retorted.
“Listen, just look at this. Can this be real?”
I hesitated and then took his laptop and looked at the site. It was a chat room.
I read a few of the posts they talked about murder and the best way to do it. Then I read on.
Der786: YOU READY, RANDY? One poster asked.
RANDY01: YEAH JUST DON’T HURT ME TOO MUCH. Another user name responded.
Der786: YOU GET THAT INSURANCE FILLED OUT?
RANDY01: MY WIFE WILL NEVER WANT FOR ANYTHING EVER AGAIN.
What the hell?
Paul grabbed the laptop. “They let themselves be murdered for entertainment.”
“On purpose?”
“Yeah, one guy had cancer and didn’t want to live anymore. It even says on the disclaimer that this is the Doctor Kavorkian of murder sites. It is all pity kills. They won’t do it to healthy, happy, or well-adjusted humans. You must prove you are worthy, and they will do the cleanup, so no one ever finds out.”
“It is real. Turn it off, Paul.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out. I just thought you would think it was at least interesting.”
“It is scary and unfortunate if I’m honest.”
Paul’s cell phone rang.
“Sorry, mom, yes, I forgot. I’m with Andrea. I’m coming.”
I looked at Paul, and he ran out and left.
He was gone, and so I continued playing a new video game that I had bought with my allowance.
I wasn’t paying any attention when I heard someone say, “I see you.”
Huh? I said to myself.
“You there! Girl with the black hair!”
What the hell? Then I realized that Paul had left his stupid laptop on the floor of my bedroom, and it was still on that silly murder site!
I peeked over my bed and looked down at the laptop, and just as I was about to close it, a man spoke again.
“Don’t close it yet; you had to come here for a reason. Why don’t you tell me what brought you here.”
“I- I didn’t. My friend found it by accident, and we weren’t interested in the site.”
“That is okay, so you were curious. Can I answer any of your questions?”
This was getting too weird for me.
“I am good. I think I get it.”
“Look, I get it. It’s real live dark web shit. I’d want to close the laptop and burn it too. Only I have seen you. How do you know I haven’t already tracked your address? How do you know I am not using facial recognition to figure out exactly who you are, Andrea Becker.”
He said my name. How did he know my name?
I was going to kill Paul.
I picked up the laptop and looked at the man who didn’t look like your typical weirdo. He was sitting at a desk wearing a polo shirt. He had a friendly smile and kind eyes. Suddenly I felt comforted instead of creeped out, and I didn’t know what it was.
“My name is Milton. I founded this site to let people let out a little bit of carnal steam. Tell me about yourself.”
“This is weird. I don’t know you.”
“Okay, I’ll begin. I’m married. I am a father of two kids. Jessica and Jenna. I work in management. This is just a side thing. I can assure you I am every bit as human as you are. So tell me, why do you wish to die, Andrea Becker?”
At that moment, it was like he had spoken to my heart. No one had ever spoken so honestly to me before. It was like having someone see your soul. At that moment, I thought, this is fate.
“Peace.”
I found myself speaking honestly, and even if I regretted it later, I couldn’t help it. It was nice to see that someone could read my mind. At least it felt like that.
“I think most of us who are empathic to the ways of the world feel the same way you do.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I sat up straight and leaned into the screen on my laptop.
I was beginning to feel much more comfortable than I had thought I ever would. It was strange to trust someone on the dark web like this, but there was something about this man. He had a hold over me.
“Tell you what, we are holding an event tonight at eleven, and I hope you will log on to join us to see what we are all about. I promise it isn’t what you think.”
“I will have to check it out,” I said, partially wondering if I wanted to have anything more to do with this man.
The screen went black, and I shut Paul’s laptop.
I decided to go downstairs to grab a wine cooler out of the fridge. It was almost ten o’clock, and my parents were asleep, so I knew I wouldn’t get in trouble.
I drank the crappy drink, thinking long and hard about what had transpired and wondering if I wanted to know what went on in this so-called murder show.
It was five till eleven, and my cowardice was in full force, so I turned on the television.
“A WHITE VAN IS THE SUSPECT IN THE MISSING TEEN’S DISAPPEARANCE IN FRANKLIN COUNTY. WITNESSES SAY THEY SAW YOUNG JAMES MADISON TALKING TO SOMEONE DRESSED AS A CLOWN AS HE WAS ON HIS WAY TO SCHOOL FRIDAY MORNING…”
I turned off the disturbing news program deciding I would see the big deal with this “murder show.” There could not possibly be any reason for this nice man I had talked to be part of some sympathy murder thing.
The screen was still black, and then I saw a small room come into focus. The chat room was coming alive with flower emojis, and last-minute thank yous and best wishes from viewers who were donating bitcoin to the website’s owner.
Then I saw a man sitting in a chair and typing away at his computer. Something oddly terrifying about it was because the viewers seemed to see it, but the man didn’t seem to have anything to do with the viewers as though he didn’t even know he was being watched.
I watched as some of the viewers suddenly were also aware of this fact.
RHONDA24: Do you think he even knows this is the last night on earth?
Davtelly45: Nope, that is how it works.
RHONDA24: I know, but I thought he would be more prepared. He has been with us so long here.
Davtelly45: He will die soon, but he will be better off.
RHONDA24: No more cheating wife, no more debt, and no more anxiety about what tomorrow will bring.
Sassy-maria: I’m so happy for him.
Davtelly45: Me too, girl.
IVANfist: I hope this one is bloody, though. I like them with a little bit of gore.
RHONDA24: I have to admit I do too. Maybe he will get slashed on the throat.
Davtelly45: I just want our boy to be happy.
IVANfist: Fuck that gore all the way!
I read the chat, and then I watched as the man sitting at his computer seemed to be working on something very intensely. That is when I heard what sounded like a doorbell ring. The man everyone was watching got up, and walked away. I guessed to answer the door.
Then I heard the sound of someone yelling. A man with a black mask on was soon dragging the man who had just been sitting at the computer into his office.
“No, I have changed my mind! Please, I don't’ want to-”
His throat was slashed in front of the computer. The slash was so deep it nearly decapitated the man who was only moments ago typing away at his laptop.
I gasped, watching the scene unfold before me. Then the chat room exploded.
RHONDA24: Bye, Randy. We will miss you.
UNKNOWN: no, we won’t.
Davtelly45: SO long, Randy. I hope you can now be at peace.
UNKNOWN: Randy will never be at peace now. Hope he rots in hell.
Davtelly45: WHo is this?
RHONDA24: I will miss Randy, but anything will be better than dealing with a cheating wife, too much debt, and not knowing what tomorrow will bring. I long for my day to rest.
UNKNOWN: You should just put yourself out of your misery.
Davtelly45: Seriously, what the hell? Guy, this is pretty insensitive. We are celebrating the life and death of a warrior.
There was some strange interference, and I shut off the laptop, unplugging it.
I texted Paul to get his stupid laptop, and he told me he would be over tomorrow to get it.
I was sick to my stomach.
Had a real-life murder just taken place?
I knew without a shadow of a doubt it had.
I was paralyzed with fear and yet oddly jealous. I secretly wished I would be able to feel that peace that Randy felt. It terrified me, though, to no end.
\***************
I woke up the next morning and prepared for school. I had strange dreams of the people on the computer screen. I had dreams of them talking about me the way they had Randy.
I was sweating when I got out of bed, and I readied myself for school and what the new day would bring.
Paul came over after school to get his laptop, and I made sure I didn’t mention what happened the night before. I just wanted that website out of my life.
Paul seemed unphased by the fact I had his laptop. He had a few, so what was one going missing?
Following that incident, I stayed off my computer as much as possible. Then I had to log onto my own laptop to finish a school project about two weeks later.
When I logged into my email, there were many messages from a person that called themselves FALCON.
“Andrea Becker, this is FALCON, Milton wanted me to let you know that he knows you logged on to watch Randy transition, and he wanted to see how you were since viewing our little show.”
I deleted the messages. I didn’t want anything to do with these weird people.
As I had this thought, I got an instant message from MILTON.
Milton: Andrea, I am sorry you seem alarmed by Randy’s transition. Tell me, how did that make you feel? It is okay to feel scared, terrified, sad, angry, or all of the above.
I looked at what he was typing, and that same sweet consoling man made my guard go down. I would have asked him how he got my email, but I already knew that if it were easy for them to get my name, how much harder would it be to get my email?
Milton: Andrea?
Me: Hello, Milton. I don’t know how I feel about what I saw. I don’t think I want anything to do with this.
Milton: Andrea, talk to me.
Me: I don’t know what to say. You killed a man.
Milton: Yes, but he wanted it. We helped him transition. We can help you.
I looked at what he was saying. I had wanted so badly to feel at peace and lose all of my earthly worries, but this was too much too fast.
Me: I have to go to Milton.
Milton: Andrea Becker, reconsider. You don’t have to participate, but we are people that understand you. I read your online diary, your poetry, and I know what you wish for.
I was stunned and felt violated. How did they hack into my online diary? It was private thoughts on my blog site I never made public. I was terrified, and then Milton said something else that made me reconsider.
Milton: I have seen your interactions with others. We have watched you interact with your friends. We know it wasn’t you that initially found our website. We don’t care. We welcome you. We only ask that you keep our little secret to help others like yourself, and like Randy.
I don’t know what made me do it. I began to trust Milton. For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel weird about my feelings on death. These people seemed to understand.
Me: I feel so weird talking about it.
Milton: It is hard to acknowledge your feelings at first, but once you do, you will begin to understand.
Me: Are there others like Randy?
Milton: We try not to allow too many transitions at once. We give people time to mourn in our community after someone transitions. We have another coming up at the end of the month. This person has yet to be named.”
Me: How does it work?
Milton: We take a vote on who is next. Once the vote is in, the nominee gets contacted through a congratulations email to give them time to tie up loose ends. Then they are not told the day or time of their death. We feel that it would ruin the transition.
Me: What if they change their mind?
Milton: They are given no way to back out. It is in our clause. If you are on track for transition, which I feel you are, just being a part of our community is an agreement. You have already witnessed a transition - an illegal act. So you have already agreed to the clause.
Me: What about you?
Milton: What about me?
ME: Can you transition?
Milton: I will in time. My agreement was after my children will be old enough to understand. Once they are, then I will join others like Randy and you.
“Oh,” I typed
Milton: I have to go now; it was nice chatting with you. Remember, if you ever need someone to talk to, we are here. We understand how you feel.
He logged off the chat, and I sat in front of the chat. Then another name popped up.
RHONDA24: Hello, Andrea.
I didn’t respond right away.
RHONDA24: I just want to let you know if you ever need a friend. I am not much older than you, and I get how you feel. You can reach out to me.
Me: Thank you. I have to go now.
RHONDA24: Have a great evening, Andrea.
I logged off the computer.
#############
As time wore on, I realized that I enjoyed the community. I had made a few friends within the community. I had several bad days in the last month; one of them was that I had a falling out with Paul. He was angry with me for spending time online in the “transition” community as I had learned to refer to it as.
The community helped me overcome some of my anxieties, so I didn’t think so much about dying anymore. If anything, I wanted to live because I felt relieved that I now had a group that understood how I felt. After all, they felt the same way as me.
Then the day came out of nowhere. I was planning my graduation speech, as I had been elected by Mr. Frazier to give my class a short address. I typed, re-typing, and over-editing everything I was writing when I got a ding on my computer.
My email popped up, and I recognized the email address. It was from FALCON.
CONGRATULATIONS ANDREA BECKER YOUR COUNTDOWN TO TRANSITION BEGINS 5-4-3-2- NOW.
I gulped reading the email because I didn’t feel the way I had before. I didn’t want to panic. This had to be a mistake. I was no longer depressed; I had things to live for now. Why had they voted on me transitioning?
I saw that Milton was online.
ME: Milton? I think you made a mistake. I am the least qualified to transition. Especially that now I feel so much better!
Crickets could have chirped from the computer. Instead of responding as Milton had hundreds of times before, he ignored me and logged off.
This was a nightmare. I stood up, looking around my room.
Indeed, I’d have time to graduate. I was at the disadvantage of being home alone. My parents were at some Union banquet because my father was on the teamster's board. I got up from my computer desk and locked all of the doors and secured the doors.
I turned on the radio to think. There was a story on the radio about a White Van and how another child had been missing. Another witness saw someone dressed as a clown talking to the child.
Ugh! Not something I needed to know to hear right now. I flipped the station to some soft music. Sarah Mclachlan came on, so I left it. I needed to think. I logged into the chat, and I could see all the congratulations Andrea comments in the chat.
ME: Hey guys, I think there is a mistake.
RHONDA24: Congratulations, Andrea!
DAVTELLY45: I hope you have the best transition.
UNKNOWN: I hope you bleed into the camera for daddy.
ME: WHAT?
Who would say such a thing?
UNKNOWN: I can’t wait to cut you from ear to ear.
RHONDA24: DUDE! Get out of here!
I got a private chat request from Rhonda24.
I accepted it.
Rhonda24: Don’t sweat it, Andrea. The guy is some weirdo that has been harassing a bunch of us. We can’t block him. He has this crazy firewall system. Just please know how happy I am for you and how much I will miss you.
I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
I was about to log off when there was a bang from outside my house.
Before I could do anything, a stranger wearing a black mask burst through my bedroom door. I stood in pure terror and shock.
It was happening now!
I did the only thing I could think of and grabbed the desk chair in front of me, and flung it at the stranger.
He was tall, thin, and didn’t seem to have been prepared for my sudden means of survival.
He lurched forward and grabbed me by the throat. I could feel his large hands trying to suffocate me. I looked over to the computer and saw it had popped back on - all on its own accord. A red light flashed on the screen. I realized I was being recorded for someone’s amusement.
The darkness engulfed me in this very moment, and I sprung up, kicking the man in the groin.
He growled in pain, and for a moment, I had time to run but not for long before the man stood up and shut my bedroom door so I had no means of escape.
He pulled out a knife from behind him, and I looked around my room to find something else I could defend myself with. I saw a coffee mug, grabbing it and throwing it at his head. To my luck, he stopped to rub his head, and I barreled past him towards the door.
Then I was caught off guard by a swiping of the knife to the back of my leg, causing me to scream in pain.
I hit the ground, and he went for my throat with the knife. I rolled over quickly, causing him to stab the floor instead of me.
I kicked him in the head this time as he struggled to get the knife out of the wooden floor. He fell to the ground, and for a moment, we both worked with the knife. Finally, I managed to grab it and stab him inside the chest.
The struggle was over. Someone had transitioned tonight, but it wasn’t me. It wasn’t going to be me. I had far too much to live for. I took a deep breath and then took off the mask of the man.
To my utter despair, it was Paul. How had Paul gotten involved with trying to kill me?
It all made perfect sense now how they all had known so much about me. Still, Paul had been my best friend for years. I ran downstairs to find my cell phone and call for 911.
The dispatcher said they would be sending for someone as soon as possible.
I saw a large white truck coming towards my house, barreling down my street. I jumped into the road, flagging them down.
There was something strange about the truck. I realized when the headlights were no longer blinding my vision that it wasn’t the ambulance. I backed up onto the sidewalk and continued to look down the street for the ambulance. The truck did something strange, though. They stopped in front of me back up, so my view down the road was blocked.
A door to the back of the truck opened up.
There were two tall men dressed as clowns. One had blue hair and a red nose with what looked like blood around his mouth and dirty teeth. He grinned big at me. The other had on a red and yellow wig with green makeup. He looked more sinister than the other clown.
They stood looking at me, and then circus music began to play. I was annoyed by whatever joke they were trying to play, especially at a time like this. I could hear the ambulance now as it was making its way down my street. I tried to walk around the two stupid clowns. It was all so ridiculous to me.
That is when one of them grabbed me. I screamed for them to let me go! I had to help Paul! Then the other one helped get me by the legs. Before I knew it, I was no longer breathing.
I, Andrea Becker, died that night. I won’t bore you with the details. It was gruesome, and it was horrid. I have been missing for three years. I hope someone can see my story and relay what happened to me.
I’d like my parents to be able to have peace. We all deserve some peace.
I saw the book close on its own then. There were tears in my eyes as I read the last words of Andrea Becker.
I wasn’t sure how I could help, but I went over to my computer. There were numerous reports on the sightings of clowns in connection to missing children. I decided to search for the area combining missing person cases from around the region. I didn’t know how I was suddenly able to hack into systems using multiple databases, but I was doing it. For Andrea Becker’s sake, I was doing it.
That is when I found something very crucial. There were several sightings recently in my neighborhood. There were also six missing persons in a five-mile vicinity. I clicked, I typed, and I searched until I put the connections together. In all of the disappeared persons, there were three bodies found. One was of a seventeen-year-old female.
I knew without a shadow of a doubt that it would be the remains of Andrea Becker’s young body. I forwarded the information to the detective working the case. How had they not put it together on their own, I had no idea. I did now have gifts now that helped me help those who could not help themselves.
Later that night, there was a break in three of the missing person cases. No thanks to me. I was tired after Andrea Becker’s story.
That book never rests, though. Last night in the middle of the night, I heard music coming from somewhere.
It woke me from a dead sleep. I decided to find out what the matter was. It sounded like circus music.
I walked into my living room, and parked in front of my house was a white van with clowns in the driver's seat. I stared at them for a long while and then opened my front door.
Two maniacal clowns got out of the back, and as they slowly made their way towards my house, I let out a deep breath. Then I yelled.
I was using my new found thunderous gift their windows to the van all burst. They both held on to their ears as though they were in pain. I had no doubt why they were here.
I heard someone yell, “HELP ME, PLEASE!” It was a woman.
I became momentarily distracted by the sound of wailing behind me. Sad, painful wailing.
I looked away from the clown van towards the READ ME book on my couch. When I looked back toward the street, the van with the clowns was now long gone. I would see to it they were punished, but until then, I had other pressing business.
I picked up the book, and inside it, I read the chapter to the next story.
I was the Youngest Member of the Lunatic Asylum...
submitted by blackfridayswitch13 to DrCreepensVault [link] [comments]

READ ME: Part 3

READ ME: Part 1
READ ME: Part 2
It was a few days of me relaxing just taking in the mellow mood that our Cecily- turned sea creature left me with her musical talents. Cecily also gifted me with a relaxing feeling.
It helped my anxiety in a way I can’t explain. I fed Doby, the fish I confiscated from the magical book, and bought him a new tank for my kitchen. I think he was another gift from Cecily. I was just happy I was able to put her soul to rest.
I spent all that Saturday setting up the sea salt tank fit with plants. Typically, it took time to set up a tank, but I didn’t exactly have time to do that with Doby. I even got him a few companions to keep him company.
Then a few days later, as I was feeding Doby admiring the new purple and turquoise blue decor, I felt a sudden need to cut my wrist. I felt like I was in a trance.
I walked over to the kitchen, opening the drawer pulling out a sharp knife, I began slicing my arm. I didn’t bleed much, but I had this overwhelming, depressing feeling coming over me. Then I heard my television pop on all by itself.
There was a news story about a young girl about sixteen years old that had gone missing. The report was dated three years ago. I knew then it was the book. Dropping the knife, I ran to get a paper towel and some alcohol to clean the wound I created.
I heard guns firing lasers, and I saw a blue light illuminating from the book. I took a big gulp; what was I getting myself into?
I opened the book to THE MURDER SHOW, which was the next story I was to read, and took a deep breath. I looked down and could see a tiny television featuring two teenagers playing a video game in a room. It was like I was watching a movie. One of them had short bleach blonde hair, the other had long black hair, and I recognized her as the missing teenage girl from the news that had just been featured on my television.
Instead of reading this story, I was watching it. I was hearing her voice inside of my mind, or maybe it was out loud. I couldn’t tell anymore.
I looked at the pages before me. They were turning on their own like an old fashioned picture book. I watched a girl as her eyes turned and faced me.
She had black hair, dark eyes, and pale skin. She had a black t-shirt on with a ton of bracelets. Her thin face was pretty, but she didn’t smile.
Instead, I could do nothing except listen to the story titled:
THE MURDER SHOW
My name is Andrea Becker, and as long as I could remember, I wanted to die.
I know it sounds strange, but I looked at death as that permanent nostalgic return to your soul.
I swear I’m not a freak. I know I look the part, don’t get me wrong. I am cliche for someone my age.
Let me begin by telling you how it all began.
When I was ten years old, my grandparents were visiting from out of town. My grandmother was taking a shower, and when she got out, she screamed for my mother as she was having chest pains. She fell over onto the bathroom floor. The EMT’s were there in record time; maybe it was slow- I just know it was all a blur. I watched them trying to bring my grandmother back. My grandpa wasn’t home; he had gone shopping with my dad and older brother. So, I had a front-row to the tragic end of a woman I had loved so much.
Then I knew the exact moment she died. I saw her ghost or her soul, whatever you believe. It floated out of her body, and it LOOKED at me! My grandmother’s spirit looked at me and smiled. I knew then everything would be fine, but it wasn’t about me. It was about how at peace she was. I longed for that peace.
I lost my grandpa a few years later, but my grandmother’s death stuck with me. I started reading everything in the end. I knew it wasn’t simple science like some claim. You do leave your body when you die. Where you go is anyone’s guess, I just know what I saw that day my grandma died.
I had never considered killing myself. That was too weird. Then one day, my best friend, Carla, told me she liked to cut herself. She showed me her scars on her wrists. I was taken back by her self-harm.
“What if you go too deep?” I asked her.
“I have a couple of times, but I have gotten good at stitching myself up,” she smirked.
“Doesn’t it hurt?” I asked her.
“Yeah, but sometimes it is the only way I can feel things. I just feel like the world gets to be too much sometimes, and I want to escape it. I just don’t want to die.”
That is when I looked at her. “I have always wanted to die,” I said tears in my eyes.
“What you mean, like kill yourself?”
“No, just be at peace.”
“I feel at peace after I feel that rush. Like I get a rush from the pain for a second, and it makes me less - I dunno how to explain it.”
“I get it,” I said, and my friend had become my best friend.
I never told her, but I started self-harming after that. I had to know if it would give me the peace that I longed for when my grandmother showed me that look in her eyes. Like AT LAST, she could rest!
Sadly, over the next few years, Carla and I stopped being so close. She started hanging with a posh stuck up crowd. I still craved death. There was little in common with the mean girls' squad.
At seventeen, I had become close friends with a guy named Paul, whom I had a lot in common. We both enjoyed Mr. Fraziers English class, played tons of video games, and enjoyed hacking.
Not like professional hacking, just silly stuff like the local website to our local pizza shop. We hacked into it to say that all the prices had been reduced to 99cents. Silly kid stuff. We were never caught.
Then one day, Paul came over with two of his laptops.
“I have to show you something.” He said to me, excitedly.
“You ever been on the dark web?”
I shook my head. “No way!”
“It isn’t all weirdos; I buy stupid shit on there like electronics. Lots of black market stuff. It isn’t all organs and creepers doing things to people.”
“You aren’t messing with those sites, are you?” I asked him, concerned.
“No, I just found one, though. I can’t tell if they are serious. It’s called THE MURDER SHOW.”
“What the hell, Paul?”
“No, I have everything blocked. They can’t find us. I wanted you to see these comments. It freaked me out.”
“You are on the DARK WEB PAUL!” I retorted.
“Listen, just look at this. Can this be real?”
I hesitated and then took his laptop and looked at the site. It was a chat room.
I read a few of the posts they talked about murder and the best way to do it. Then I read on.
Der786: YOU READY, RANDY? One poster asked.
RANDY01: YEAH JUST DON’T HURT ME TOO MUCH. Another user name responded.
Der786: YOU GET THAT INSURANCE FILLED OUT?
RANDY01: MY WIFE WILL NEVER WANT FOR ANYTHING EVER AGAIN.
What the hell?
Paul grabbed the laptop. “They let themselves be murdered for entertainment.”
“On purpose?”
“Yeah, one guy had cancer and didn’t want to live anymore. It even says on the disclaimer that this is the Doctor Kavorkian of murder sites. It is all pity kills. They won’t do it to healthy, happy, or well-adjusted humans. You must prove you are worthy, and they will do the cleanup, so no one ever finds out.”
“It is real. Turn it off, Paul.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out. I just thought you would think it was at least interesting.”
“It is scary and unfortunate if I’m honest.”
Paul’s cell phone rang.
“Sorry, mom, yes, I forgot. I’m with Andrea. I’m coming.”
I looked at Paul, and he ran out and left.
He was gone, and so I continued playing a new video game that I had bought with my allowance.
I wasn’t paying any attention when I heard someone say, “I see you.”
Huh? I said to myself.
“You there! Girl with the black hair!”
What the hell? Then I realized that Paul had left his stupid laptop on the floor of my bedroom, and it was still on that silly murder site!
I peeked over my bed and looked down at the laptop, and just as I was about to close it, a man spoke again.
“Don’t close it yet; you had to come here for a reason. Why don’t you tell me what brought you here.”
“I- I didn’t. My friend found it by accident, and we weren’t interested in the site.”
“That is okay, so you were curious. Can I answer any of your questions?”
This was getting too weird for me.
“I am good. I think I get it.”
“Look, I get it. It’s real live dark web shit. I’d want to close the laptop and burn it too. Only I have seen you. How do you know I haven’t already tracked your address? How do you know I am not using facial recognition to figure out exactly who you are, Andrea Becker.”
He said my name. How did he know my name?
I was going to kill Paul.
I picked up the laptop and looked at the man who didn’t look like your typical weirdo. He was sitting at a desk wearing a polo shirt. He had a friendly smile and kind eyes. Suddenly I felt comforted instead of creeped out, and I didn’t know what it was.
“My name is Milton. I founded this site to let people let out a little bit of carnal steam. Tell me about yourself.”
“This is weird. I don’t know you.”
“Okay, I’ll begin. I’m married. I am a father of two kids. Jessica and Jenna. I work in management. This is just a side thing. I can assure you I am every bit as human as you are. So tell me, why do you wish to die, Andrea Becker?”
At that moment, it was like he had spoken to my heart. No one had ever spoken so honestly to me before. It was like having someone see your soul. At that moment, I thought, this is fate.
“Peace.”
I found myself speaking honestly, and even if I regretted it later, I couldn’t help it. It was nice to see that someone could read my mind. At least it felt like that.
“I think most of us who are empathic to the ways of the world feel the same way you do.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I sat up straight and leaned into the screen on my laptop.
I was beginning to feel much more comfortable than I had thought I ever would. It was strange to trust someone on the dark web like this, but there was something about this man. He had a hold over me.
“Tell you what, we are holding an event tonight at eleven, and I hope you will log on to join us to see what we are all about. I promise it isn’t what you think.”
“I will have to check it out,” I said, partially wondering if I wanted to have anything more to do with this man.
The screen went black, and I shut Paul’s laptop.
I decided to go downstairs to grab a wine cooler out of the fridge. It was almost ten o’clock, and my parents were asleep, so I knew I wouldn’t get in trouble.
I drank the crappy drink, thinking long and hard about what had transpired and wondering if I wanted to know what went on in this so-called murder show.
It was five till eleven, and my cowardice was in full force, so I turned on the television.
“A WHITE VAN IS THE SUSPECT IN THE MISSING TEEN’S DISAPPEARANCE IN FRANKLIN COUNTY. WITNESSES SAY THEY SAW YOUNG JAMES MADISON TALKING TO SOMEONE DRESSED AS A CLOWN AS HE WAS ON HIS WAY TO SCHOOL FRIDAY MORNING…”
I turned off the disturbing news program deciding I would see the big deal with this “murder show.” There could not possibly be any reason for this nice man I had talked to be part of some sympathy murder thing.
The screen was still black, and then I saw a small room come into focus. The chat room was coming alive with flower emojis, and last-minute thank yous and best wishes from viewers who were donating bitcoin to the website’s owner.
Then I saw a man sitting in a chair and typing away at his computer. Something oddly terrifying about it was because the viewers seemed to see it, but the man didn’t seem to have anything to do with the viewers as though he didn’t even know he was being watched.
I watched as some of the viewers suddenly were also aware of this fact.
RHONDA24: Do you think he even knows this is the last night on earth?
Davtelly45: Nope, that is how it works.
RHONDA24: I know, but I thought he would be more prepared. He has been with us so long here.
Davtelly45: He will die soon, but he will be better off.
RHONDA24: No more cheating wife, no more debt, and no more anxiety about what tomorrow will bring.
Sassy-maria: I’m so happy for him.
Davtelly45: Me too, girl.
IVANfist: I hope this one is bloody, though. I like them with a little bit of gore.
RHONDA24: I have to admit I do too. Maybe he will get slashed on the throat.
Davtelly45: I just want our boy to be happy.
IVANfist: Fuck that gore all the way!
I read the chat, and then I watched as the man sitting at his computer seemed to be working on something very intensely. That is when I heard what sounded like a doorbell ring. The man everyone was watching got up, and walked away. I guessed to answer the door.
Then I heard the sound of someone yelling. A man with a black mask on was soon dragging the man who had just been sitting at the computer into his office.
“No, I have changed my mind! Please, I don't’ want to-”
His throat was slashed in front of the computer. The slash was so deep it nearly decapitated the man who was only moments ago typing away at his laptop.
I gasped, watching the scene unfold before me. Then the chat room exploded.
RHONDA24: Bye, Randy. We will miss you.
UNKNOWN: no, we won’t.
Davtelly45: SO long, Randy. I hope you can now be at peace.
UNKNOWN: Randy will never be at peace now. Hope he rots in hell.
Davtelly45: WHo is this?
RHONDA24: I will miss Randy, but anything will be better than dealing with a cheating wife, too much debt, and not knowing what tomorrow will bring. I long for my day to rest.
UNKNOWN: You should just put yourself out of your misery.
Davtelly45: Seriously, what the hell? Guy, this is pretty insensitive. We are celebrating the life and death of a warrior.
There was some strange interference, and I shut off the laptop, unplugging it.
I texted Paul to get his stupid laptop, and he told me he would be over tomorrow to get it.
I was sick to my stomach.
Had a real-life murder just taken place?
I knew without a shadow of a doubt it had.
I was paralyzed with fear and yet oddly jealous. I secretly wished I would be able to feel that peace that Randy felt. It terrified me, though, to no end.
\***************
I woke up the next morning and prepared for school. I had strange dreams of the people on the computer screen. I had dreams of them talking about me the way they had Randy.
I was sweating when I got out of bed, and I readied myself for school and what the new day would bring.
Paul came over after school to get his laptop, and I made sure I didn’t mention what happened the night before. I just wanted that website out of my life.
Paul seemed unphased by the fact I had his laptop. He had a few, so what was one going missing?
Following that incident, I stayed off my computer as much as possible. Then I had to log onto my own laptop to finish a school project about two weeks later.
When I logged into my email, there were many messages from a person that called themselves FALCON.
“Andrea Becker, this is FALCON, Milton wanted me to let you know that he knows you logged on to watch Randy transition, and he wanted to see how you were since viewing our little show.”
I deleted the messages. I didn’t want anything to do with these weird people.
As I had this thought, I got an instant message from MILTON.
Milton: Andrea, I am sorry you seem alarmed by Randy’s transition. Tell me, how did that make you feel? It is okay to feel scared, terrified, sad, angry, or all of the above.
I looked at what he was typing, and that same sweet consoling man made my guard go down. I would have asked him how he got my email, but I already knew that if it were easy for them to get my name, how much harder would it be to get my email?
Milton: Andrea?
Me: Hello, Milton. I don’t know how I feel about what I saw. I don’t think I want anything to do with this.
Milton: Andrea, talk to me.
Me: I don’t know what to say. You killed a man.
Milton: Yes, but he wanted it. We helped him transition. We can help you.
I looked at what he was saying. I had wanted so badly to feel at peace and lose all of my earthly worries, but this was too much too fast.
Me: I have to go to Milton.
Milton: Andrea Becker, reconsider. You don’t have to participate, but we are people that understand you. I read your online diary, your poetry, and I know what you wish for.
I was stunned and felt violated. How did they hack into my online diary? It was private thoughts on my blog site I never made public. I was terrified, and then Milton said something else that made me reconsider.
Milton: I have seen your interactions with others. We have watched you interact with your friends. We know it wasn’t you that initially found our website. We don’t care. We welcome you. We only ask that you keep our little secret to help others like yourself, and like Randy.
I don’t know what made me do it. I began to trust Milton. For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel weird about my feelings on death. These people seemed to understand.
Me: I feel so weird talking about it.
Milton: It is hard to acknowledge your feelings at first, but once you do, you will begin to understand.
Me: Are there others like Randy?
Milton: We try not to allow too many transitions at once. We give people time to mourn in our community after someone transitions. We have another coming up at the end of the month. This person has yet to be named.”
Me: How does it work?
Milton: We take a vote on who is next. Once the vote is in, the nominee gets contacted through a congratulations email to give them time to tie up loose ends. Then they are not told the day or time of their death. We feel that it would ruin the transition.
Me: What if they change their mind?
Milton: They are given no way to back out. It is in our clause. If you are on track for transition, which I feel you are, just being a part of our community is an agreement. You have already witnessed a transition - an illegal act. So you have already agreed to the clause.
Me: What about you?
Milton: What about me?
ME: Can you transition?
Milton: I will in time. My agreement was after my children will be old enough to understand. Once they are, then I will join others like Randy and you.
“Oh,” I typed
Milton: I have to go now; it was nice chatting with you. Remember, if you ever need someone to talk to, we are here. We understand how you feel.
He logged off the chat, and I sat in front of the chat. Then another name popped up.
RHONDA24: Hello, Andrea.
I didn’t respond right away.
RHONDA24: I just want to let you know if you ever need a friend. I am not much older than you, and I get how you feel. You can reach out to me.
Me: Thank you. I have to go now.
RHONDA24: Have a great evening, Andrea.
I logged off the computer.
#############
As time wore on, I realized that I enjoyed the community. I had made a few friends within the community. I had several bad days in the last month; one of them was that I had a falling out with Paul. He was angry with me for spending time online in the “transition” community as I had learned to refer to it as.
The community helped me overcome some of my anxieties, so I didn’t think so much about dying anymore. If anything, I wanted to live because I felt relieved that I now had a group that understood how I felt. After all, they felt the same way as me.
Then the day came out of nowhere. I was planning my graduation speech, as I had been elected by Mr. Frazier to give my class a short address. I typed, re-typing, and over-editing everything I was writing when I got a ding on my computer.
My email popped up, and I recognized the email address. It was from FALCON.
CONGRATULATIONS ANDREA BECKER YOUR COUNTDOWN TO TRANSITION BEGINS 5-4-3-2- NOW.
I gulped reading the email because I didn’t feel the way I had before. I didn’t want to panic. This had to be a mistake. I was no longer depressed; I had things to live for now. Why had they voted on me transitioning?
I saw that Milton was online.
ME: Milton? I think you made a mistake. I am the least qualified to transition. Especially that now I feel so much better!
Crickets could have chirped from the computer. Instead of responding as Milton had hundreds of times before, he ignored me and logged off.
This was a nightmare. I stood up, looking around my room.
Indeed, I’d have time to graduate. I was at the disadvantage of being home alone. My parents were at some Union banquet because my father was on the teamster's board. I got up from my computer desk and locked all of the doors and secured the doors.
I turned on the radio to think. There was a story on the radio about a White Van and how another child had been missing. Another witness saw someone dressed as a clown talking to the child.
Ugh! Not something I needed to know to hear right now. I flipped the station to some soft music. Sarah Mclachlan came on, so I left it. I needed to think. I logged into the chat, and I could see all the congratulations Andrea comments in the chat.
ME: Hey guys, I think there is a mistake.
RHONDA24: Congratulations, Andrea!
DAVTELLY45: I hope you have the best transition.
UNKNOWN: I hope you bleed into the camera for daddy.
ME: WHAT?
Who would say such a thing?
UNKNOWN: I can’t wait to cut you from ear to ear.
RHONDA24: DUDE! Get out of here!
I got a private chat request from Rhonda24.
I accepted it.
Rhonda24: Don’t sweat it, Andrea. The guy is some weirdo that has been harassing a bunch of us. We can’t block him. He has this crazy firewall system. Just please know how happy I am for you and how much I will miss you.
I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
I was about to log off when there was a bang from outside my house.
Before I could do anything, a stranger wearing a black mask burst through my bedroom door. I stood in pure terror and shock.
It was happening now!
I did the only thing I could think of and grabbed the desk chair in front of me, and flung it at the stranger.
He was tall, thin, and didn’t seem to have been prepared for my sudden means of survival.
He lurched forward and grabbed me by the throat. I could feel his large hands trying to suffocate me. I looked over to the computer and saw it had popped back on - all on its own accord. A red light flashed on the screen. I realized I was being recorded for someone’s amusement.
The darkness engulfed me in this very moment, and I sprung up, kicking the man in the groin.
He growled in pain, and for a moment, I had time to run but not for long before the man stood up and shut my bedroom door so I had no means of escape.
He pulled out a knife from behind him, and I looked around my room to find something else I could defend myself with. I saw a coffee mug, grabbing it and throwing it at his head. To my luck, he stopped to rub his head, and I barreled past him towards the door.
Then I was caught off guard by a swiping of the knife to the back of my leg, causing me to scream in pain.
I hit the ground, and he went for my throat with the knife. I rolled over quickly, causing him to stab the floor instead of me.
I kicked him in the head this time as he struggled to get the knife out of the wooden floor. He fell to the ground, and for a moment, we both worked with the knife. Finally, I managed to grab it and stab him inside the chest.
The struggle was over. Someone had transitioned tonight, but it wasn’t me. It wasn’t going to be me. I had far too much to live for. I took a deep breath and then took off the mask of the man.
To my utter despair, it was Paul. How had Paul gotten involved with trying to kill me?
It all made perfect sense now how they all had known so much about me. Still, Paul had been my best friend for years. I ran downstairs to find my cell phone and call for 911.
The dispatcher said they would be sending for someone as soon as possible.
I saw a large white truck coming towards my house, barreling down my street. I jumped into the road, flagging them down.
There was something strange about the truck. I realized when the headlights were no longer blinding my vision that it wasn’t the ambulance. I backed up onto the sidewalk and continued to look down the street for the ambulance. The truck did something strange, though. They stopped in front of me back up, so my view down the road was blocked.
A door to the back of the truck opened up.
There were two tall men dressed as clowns. One had blue hair and a red nose with what looked like blood around his mouth and dirty teeth. He grinned big at me. The other had on a red and yellow wig with green makeup. He looked more sinister than the other clown.
They stood looking at me, and then circus music began to play. I was annoyed by whatever joke they were trying to play, especially at a time like this. I could hear the ambulance now as it was making its way down my street. I tried to walk around the two stupid clowns. It was all so ridiculous to me.
That is when one of them grabbed me. I screamed for them to let me go! I had to help Paul! Then the other one helped get me by the legs. Before I knew it, I was no longer breathing.
I, Andrea Becker, died that night. I won’t bore you with the details. It was gruesome, and it was horrid. I have been missing for three years. I hope someone can see my story and relay what happened to me.
I’d like my parents to be able to have peace. We all deserve some peace.
I saw the book close on its own then. There were tears in my eyes as I read the last words of Andrea Becker.
I wasn’t sure how I could help, but I went over to my computer. There were numerous reports on the sightings of clowns in connection to missing children. I decided to search for the area combining missing person cases from around the region. I didn’t know how I was suddenly able to hack into systems using multiple databases, but I was doing it. For Andrea Becker’s sake, I was doing it.
That is when I found something very crucial. There were several sightings recently in my neighborhood. There were also six missing persons in a five-mile vicinity. I clicked, I typed, and I searched until I put the connections together. In all of the disappeared persons, there were three bodies found. One was of a seventeen-year-old female.
I knew without a shadow of a doubt that it would be the remains of Andrea Becker’s young body. I forwarded the information to the detective working the case. How had they not put it together on their own, I had no idea. I did now have gifts now that helped me help those who could not help themselves.
Later that night, there was a break in three of the missing person cases. No thanks to me. I was tired after Andrea Becker’s story.
That book never rests, though. Last night in the middle of the night, I heard music coming from somewhere.
It woke me from a dead sleep. I decided to find out what the matter was. It sounded like circus music.
I walked into my living room, and parked in front of my house was a white van with clowns in the driver's seat. I stared at them for a long while and then opened my front door.
Two maniacal clowns got out of the back, and as they slowly made their way towards my house, I let out a deep breath. Then I yelled.
I was using my new found thunderous gift their windows to the van all burst. They both held on to their ears as though they were in pain. I had no doubt why they were here.
I heard someone yell, “HELP ME, PLEASE!” It was a woman.
I became momentarily distracted by the sound of wailing behind me. Sad, painful wailing.
I looked away from the clown van towards the READ ME book on my couch. When I looked back toward the street, the van with the clowns was now long gone. I would see to it they were punished, but until then, I had other pressing business.
I picked up the book, and inside it, I read the chapter to the next story.
I was the Youngest Member of the Lunatic Asylum...
submitted by blackfridayswitch13 to libraryofshadows [link] [comments]

Default English word list

Alright so, I took the default database from there https://skribbliohints.github.io/ and with the help of html, I extracted the words to a list separated by commas. It's useful when you want to translate those words into your native language.
Word of advice, when using google translate, do not put all words at once there, it can rapidly worsen the translation.
(And there is a last thing. Their algorithm of picking only custom words is not working really good, at least for me. Meaning that I often get duplicates, despite having a list this big and without duplicates. I'm still trying to find some solution to this, so if somebody is experiencing this as well, share the knowledge please, I will do the same.)
SOLUTION: Thanks for the reply from PepegaWR who identified the cause. I also tested it and there seems to be a custom words limit of 5000 characters. The easiest way in my opinion is to shuffle the words before each session to minimize the impact. Also thanks to the flynger who had the same idea before me :)
Finally, here it is, enjoy the scribbling ^^ :

ABBA, AC/DC, Abraham Lincoln, Adidas, Africa, Aladdin, America, Amsterdam, Android, Angelina Jolie, Angry Birds, Antarctica, Anubis, Apple, Argentina, Asia, Asterix, Atlantis, Audi, Australia, BMW, BMX, Bambi, Band-Aid, Barack Obama, Bart Simpson, Batman, Beethoven, Bible, Big Ben, Bill Gates, Bitcoin, Black Friday, Bomberman, Brazil, Bruce Lee, Bugs Bunny, Canada, Capricorn, Captain America, Cat Woman, Cerberus, Charlie Chaplin, Chewbacca, China, Chinatown, Christmas, Chrome, Chuck Norris, Colosseum, Cookie Monster, Crash Bandicoot, Creeper, Croatia, Cuba, Cupid, DNA, Daffy Duck, Darwin, Darwin Watterson, Deadpool, Dexter, Discord, Donald Duck, Donald Trump, Dora, Doritos, Dracula, Dumbo, Earth, Easter, Easter Bunny, Egypt, Eiffel tower, Einstein, Elmo, Elon Musk, Elsa, Eminem, England, Europe, Excalibur, Facebook, Family Guy, Fanta, Ferrari, Finn, Finn and Jake, Flash, Florida, France, Frankenstein, Fred Flintstone, Gandalf, Gandhi, Garfield, Germany, God, Goofy, Google, Great Wall, Greece, Green Lantern, Grinch, Gru, Gumball, Happy Meal, Harry Potter, Hawaii, Hello Kitty, Hercules, Hollywood, Home Alone, Homer Simpson, Hula Hoop, Hulk, Ikea, India, Intel, Ireland, Iron Giant, Iron Man, Israel, Italy, Jack-o-lantern, Jackie Chan, James Bond, Japan, JayZ, Jenga, Jesus Christ, Jimmy Neutron, John Cena, Johnny Bravo, KFC, Katy Perry, Kermit, Kim Jong-un, King Kong, Kirby, Kung Fu, Lady Gaga, Las Vegas, Lasagna, Lego, Leonardo DiCaprio, Leonardo da Vinci, Lion King, London, London Eye, Luigi, MTV, Madagascar, Mario, Mark Zuckerberg, Mars, McDonalds, Medusa, Mercedes, Mercury, Mexico, Michael Jackson, Mickey Mouse, Microsoft, Milky Way, Minecraft, Miniclip, Minion, Minotaur, Mona Lisa, Monday, Monster, Mont Blanc, Morgan Freeman, Morse code, Morty, Mount Everest, Mount Rushmore, Mozart, Mr. Bean, Mr. Meeseeks, Mr Bean, Mr Meeseeks, Mummy, NASCAR, Nasa, Nemo, Neptune, Netherlands, New Zealand, Nike, Nintendo Switch, North Korea, Northern Lights, Norway, Notch, Nutella, Obelix, Olaf, Oreo, Pac-Man, Paris, Patrick, Paypal, Peppa Pig, Pepsi, Phineas and Ferb, Photoshop, Picasso, Pikachu, Pink Panther, Pinocchio, Playstation, Pluto, Pokemon, Popeye, Popsicle, Porky Pig, Portugal, Poseidon, Pringles, Pumba, Reddit, Rick, Robbie Rotten, Robin Hood, Romania, Rome, Russia, Samsung, Santa, Saturn, Scooby Doo, Scotland, Segway, Sherlock Holmes, Shrek, Singapore, Skittles, Skrillex, Skype, Slinky, Solar System, Sonic, Spain, Spartacus, Spiderman, SpongeBob, Squidward, Star Wars, Statue of Liberty, Steam, Stegosaurus, Steve Jobs, Stone Age, Sudoku, Suez Canal, Superman, Susan Wojcicki, Sydney Opera House, T-rex, Tails, Tarzan, Teletubby, Terminator, Tetris, The Beatles, Thor, Titanic, Tooth Fairy, Tower Bridge, Tower of Pisa, Tweety, Twitter, UFO, USB, Uranus, Usain Bolt, Vatican, Vault boy, Velociraptor, Venus, Vin Diesel, W-LAN, Wall-e, WhatsApp, William Shakespeare, William Wallace, Winnie the Pooh, Wolverine, Wonder Woman, Xbox, Xerox, Yin and Yang, Yoda, Yoshi, Youtube, Zelda, Zeus, Zorro, Zuma, abstract, abyss, accident, accordion, ace, acid, acne, acorn, action, actor, addiction, addition, adorable, adult, advertisement, afro, afterlife, air conditioner, airbag, aircraft, airplane, airport, alarm, albatross, alcohol, alien, allergy, alley, alligator, almond, alpaca, ambulance, anaconda, anchor, angel, anglerfish, angry, animation, anime, ant, anteater, antelope, antenna, anthill, antivirus, anvil, apartment, apocalypse, applause, apple, apple pie, apple seed, apricot, aquarium, arch, archaeologist, archer, architect, aristocrat, arm, armadillo, armor, armpit, arrow, ash, assassin, assault, asteroid, astronaut, asymmetry, athlete, atom, attic, audience, autograph, avocado, axe, baboon, baby, back pain, backbone, backflip, backpack, bacon, bad, badger, bag, bagel, bagpipes, baguette, bait, bakery, baklava, balance, balcony, bald, ball, ballerina, ballet, balloon, bamboo, banana, bandage, bandana, banjo, bank, banker, bar, barbarian, 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puddle, puffin, puma, pumpkin, punishment, punk, puppet, purity, purse, puzzle, pyramid, quarter, queen, queue, quicksand, quill, quilt, quokka, raccoon, race, racecar, radar, radiation, radio, radish, raft, rail, rain, rainbow, raincoat, raindrop, rainforest, raisin, rake, ram, ramp, rapper, raspberry, rat, ravioli, razor, razorblade, read, reality, reception, receptionist, record, rectangle, recycling, red, red carpet, reeds, referee, reflection, reindeer, relationship, religion, remote, repeat, reptile, rest, restaurant, retail, revolver, rewind, rhinoceros, rib, ribbon, rice, ring, ringtone, risk, river, roadblock, robber, robin, robot, rock, rocket, rockstar, roll, roof, room, rooster, root, rose, royal, rubber, ruby, rug, ruler, run, rune, sad, saddle, safari, safe, sailboat, salad, sale, saliva, salmon, salt, saltwater, sand, sand castle, sandbox, sandstorm, sandwich, satellite, sauce, sauna, sausage, saxophone, scar, scarecrow, scarf, scary, scent, school, science, scientist, scissors, scoop, score, scream, screen, screw, scribble, scuba, sculpture, scythe, sea, sea lion, seafood, seagull, seahorse, seal, search, seashell, seasick, season, seat belt, seaweed, second, security, seed, seesaw, semicircle, sensei, server, sew, sewing machine, shadow, shake, shallow, shampoo, shape, shark, shaving cream, sheep, shelf, shell, shipwreck, shirt, shock, shoe, shoebox, shoelace, shop, shopping, shopping cart, short, shotgun, shoulder, shout, shovel, shower, shrew, shrub, shy, sick, signature, silence, silo, silver, silverware, sing, sink, sit, six pack, skateboard, skateboarder, skates, skeleton, ski, ski jump, skin, skinny, skribbl.io, skull, skunk, sky, skydiving, skyline, skyscraper, slam, sledge, sledgehammer, sleep, sleeve, slide, slime, slingshot, slippery, slope, sloth, slow, slump, smell, smile, smoke, snail, snake, sneeze, sniper, snow, snowball, snowball fight, snowboard, snowflake, snowman, soap, soccer, social media, socket, socks, soda, soil, soldier, sombrero, son, sound, soup, south, space, space suit, spaceship, spade, spaghetti, spark, sparkles, spatula, speaker, spear, spelunker, sphinx, spider, spin, spinach, spine, spiral, spit, spoiler, sponge, spool, spoon, spore, sports, spray paint, spring, sprinkler, spy, square, squid, squirrel, stab, stadium, stage, stamp, stand, stapler, star, starfish, starfruit, statue, steam, step, stereo, sting, stingray, stomach, stone, stoned, stop sign, stork, storm, stove, straw, strawberry, streamer, street, stress, strong, student, studio, study, stylus, submarine, subway, sugar, suitcase, summer, sun, sunburn, sunflower, sunglasses, sunrise, sunshade, supermarket, superpower, surface, surfboard, surgeon, survivor, sushi, swag, swamp, swan, swarm, sweat, sweater, swimming pool, swimsuit, swing, switch, sword, swordfish, symphony, table, table tennis, tablecloth, tablet, tabletop, taco, tadpole, tail, tailor, take off, talent show, tampon, tangerine, tank, tape, tarantula, target, taser, tattoo, taxi, taxi driver, tea, teacher, teapot, tear, teaspoon, teddy bear, telephone, telescope, television, temperature, tennis, tennis racket, tent, tentacle, text, thermometer, thief, thin, think, thirst, throat, throne, thug, thumb, thunder, thunderstorm, ticket, tickle, tie, tiger, time machine, timpani, tiny, tip, tiramisu, tire, tired, tissue, tissue box, toad, toast, toaster, toe, toenail, toilet, tomato, tomb, tombstone, tongue, toolbox, tooth, toothbrush, toothpaste, toothpick, top hat, torch, tornado, torpedo, tortoise, totem, toucan, touch, tourist, tow truck, towel, tower, toy, tractor, traffic, traffic light, trailer, train, translate, trap, trapdoor, trash can, traveler, treadmill, treasure, tree, treehouse, trend, triangle, trick shot, tricycle, trigger, triplets, tripod, trombone, trophy, tropical, truck, truck driver, trumpet, tuba, tug, tumor, tuna, tunnel, turd, turkey, turnip, turtle, tuxedo, twig, type, udder, ukulele, umbrella, uncle, underground, underweight, undo, unibrow, unicorn, unicycle, uniform, universe, upgrade, vacation, vaccine, vacuum, valley, vampire, vanilla, vanish, vault, vegetable, vegetarian, vein, vent, vertical, veterinarian, victim, victory, video, video game, village, villain, vine, vinegar, viola, violence, violin, virtual reality, virus, vise, vision, vitamin, vlogger, vodka, volcano, volleyball, volume, vomit, voodoo, vortex, vote, vulture, vuvuzela, waffle, waist, waiter, wake up, walk, wall, wallpaper, walnut, walrus, warehouse, warm, wart, wasp, watch, water, water cycle, water gun, waterfall, wave, wax, weak, wealth, weapon, weasel, weather, web, website, wedding, welder, well, werewolf, west, western, whale, wheel, wheelbarrow, whisk, whisper, whistle, white, wife, wig, wiggle, willow, wind, windmill, window, windshield, wine, wine glass, wing, wingnut, winner, winter, wire, wireless, witch, witness, wizard, wolf, wonderland, woodpecker, wool, work, workplace, world, worm, wound, wrapping, wreath, wrench, wrestler, wrestling, wrinkle, wrist, writer, x-ray, xylophone, yacht, yardstick, yawn, yearbook, yellow, yeti, yo-yo, yogurt, yolk, young, youtuber, zebra, zeppelin, zigzag, zipline, zipper, zombie, zoo, zoom,
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The Incel

The Incel
Staff writer Sophie Miller sat at her desk in the busy office of OMG News, on the 8th floor of a downtown office block. She was trawling through her email folder.

An email from the managing director caught her eye: "Great work on the article Sophie! Click rates are through the roof!..."

This was the first direct communication from the top boss since she started at the online magazine 6 months ago. Prior to that she had been a freelance writer struggling to make ends meet. Now she was a full time staff writer and her latest article had generated a lot of publicity.

"I'd rather be beaten to death than bored to death - why a boy can never be too bad." had generated controversy, humour and condemnation. Some critics had called it crass and risible, others had called it dangerous apologism for abusers. Others saw the ironic humour and critique of toxic masculinity. The one thing no-one had called her...is boring. You could never be too controversial in an outlet like OMG news.
She continued reading the boss's email "...I'd love to discuss it with you personally, pop into my office whenever you have a moment."

Her heart raced. The managing director wanted to see her. She'd never spoken to him before. She wasted no time and headed towards his office at the other end of the floor. On the way she checked her face in the mirror. Lashes were on fleek, red hair was neatly in a bun, makeup perfectly contoured. She knocked gingerly on his office door:
"Mr Donnelly?" she inquired gingerly.
"Come in my dear!" he ushered her into the office. His normally stern face was grimacing. She found it unsettling but forced a smile nonetheless.
"You wanted to see me Sir?" she said nervously
"Yes sweetheart" (he never used the names of any of the women in the office) "I called you in here to congratulate you. Since your little article was posted on the website our engagement and clicks have gone through the roof. Now I may be an old grey-haired dinosaur but I know that for an online news service, clicks mean dollars, and that makes you a golden goose."
He grinned and she responded likewise, awkwardly.
"Now I understand you've been here 6 months?"
"Yes sir" she responded cheerfully.
He stood up and began to pace up and down the room:

"That makes you entitled to a raise, but of course raises must be justified, with...a real business case." He stood next to her and placed his hand on her lower back. She could smell the coffee on his breath as he drew closer...

As she walked back to her desk afterwards, she felt everyone was staring at her. She was paranoid her makeup or hair would be disheveled. She hurried to her computer and lowered her chair so no-one could see her. She opened her emails again. She figured she would answer the important ones then head home. She needed a shower.

"SLUT!" jumped out at her from the screen. It was the title of an email.

Oh God, someone had seen her leaving Mr Donnelly's office looking disheveled. They knew, and soon everyone would know. She'd be the talk of the office for all the wrong reasons. As she clicked on the email she realised it was sent hours ago, at 10am this morning, just after the article went live on the website.

She opened the email:

"Dear Purveyors of Immoral Filth. I recently read your article entitled

'I'd rather be beaten to death than bored to death - why a boy can never be too bad.'

Needless to say I was disgusted. You are advocating for a lifestyle that rewards the churlish brute and damages the fragile female. In your world there is room only for the Alpha male and all other males are cast by the wayside. This is a primal, barbaric mentality. Sadly there are many females out there that share your point of view, and articles like this will only encourage their depravity further. It's because of low culture Svenagli's like yourself that modern womanhood is poisoned. I am unable to find a wife and folks like you are to blame.

The long and the tall of it is: I demand your 'news website' publishes a retraction, within the next 48 hours, of there will be Hell to pay. There will be no peace for the wicked.

Yours sincerely - The Incel."

At first Sophie was taken aback, then - comprehending the full meaning of the rambling nonsense, she burst out laughing. Immediately she forwarded it on to her colleagues. Then she screenshotted it and shared it to her seventy thousand Twitter followers. The reaction was one of almost universal ridicule, interspersed with the odd note of concern, which she duly ignored. Sophie suddenly had an idea for her next article, which she spent the rest of the day working on.
The following morning OMG News published another article
"Incels - do they deserve our ridicule or our pity?" - by Sophie Miller.
The article got even more clicks and engagement than her previous article about bad boys. Mr Donnelly offered her a raise then and there. Late that afternoon, as the staff enjoyed a coffee break, the security guard brought in a package.
"Special delivery for Sophie Miller. Just arrived now." Curious as to what it could be she opened it.

The explosion gutted the entire 8th and 9th floor of the 10 storey office block. The fire brigade evacuated the remaining floors of the building just before it collapsed in on itself. Of the 30 person staff at OMG news only 3 were pulled from the rubble. The floor above had been unoccupied but two Guatemalan maintenance men who had been cleaning up there were killed as well. Sophie's body was never identified although the crime scene investigators did find one of her shoes and her phone (still working) the lockscreen featured her cat mittens, who was taken in by a neighbor.

Moments after the explosion all the major news networks received the same email:

"I am responsible for the explosion at OMG News. I warned them of the consequences of their immoral words. Below I have enclosed a link to my manifesto. If my manifesto is not published my bombing campaign will continue. There shall be no peace for the wicked.
Kind Regards.
The Incel"
The editors of the major news networks were unanimous in their opinion that this so-called 'manifesto' was rambling, misogynistic garbage, ranting about Chads, Stacies and trad values and so they were united in their refusal to give it the time of day.
A week went by since the OMG news bombing. Investigators were at a loss to find any evidence. The FBI were called in. They set up an incident room nearby, headed by an FBI Assistant Director. They took forensic samples of everything but there was no trace of any DNA anywhere, the original package had been destroyed in the explosion. They checked the security footage from the office building reception. Grainy footage captured a figure in a black hoodie dropping the package at the doors and quickly fleeing the scene. The figure was average height and the face was indistinguishable.
Just as he was getting ready to go home, the Assistant Director's phone rang. It was his junior agent.
"There's been another bomb, this time at NRC News."
Smoke billowed out of the reception of the NRC news building. The Assistant Director arrived to a scene of chaos. Sirens wailed as medics helped the walking wounded to waiting ambulances. It wasn't long before police assessed the scene and found that 6 staff members were missing, presumed dead. Their corpses were pulled from the rubble before nightfall.
Another message was sent, this time to the FBI Incident Room. It read:
"I hope you enjoyed the fireworks. Next time it will be a school or a Mosque. I will continue my campaign unless the government provides me with a wife. She must be slim, pretty and below the age of 25. You have one week."

The FBI Assistant Director turned to his junior agent. "That's 35 people this bastard has killed so far. We're gonna have to take this higher."

President Roland Dunst sat at his large desk in the oval office. His Chief of Staff General Trebuchet walked in:
"Mr President, there's been another bombing, 6 people have been killed in this bombing, that's on top of the 29 in the last bombing. The FBI are saying we need to do something. Fast."
"Who is doing these bombings General? Is it Isis? ETA? China?"
"It's...an Incel Sir."
"A what now?"
"An Incel, a guy that...can't have sex...and he's pretty darn mad."
"Sounds like a stone cold loser to me. What does he want? Money?."
"Well Sir, originally he just wanted his manifesto published..."
"Well let's do it then, let this freak have his 15 minutes of fame."
"But now Sir....he wants a wife."
"A wife?"
"Yes and he wants a hot wife too."
"Hmmm" the president rubbed his chin. "What sane woman would want to marry a psycho freak like that?" The President paced up and down the oval office. He gazed at the flag and exclaimed:
"General, I have an idea....."

Natalia Kowalski sat shivering on a metal bench in the holding cell of the Immigrant Detention Center. The stone walls seemed to be closing in on her and her fellow occupants. She gazed around at the sea of brown and black faces. A bald African man was staring at her. She turned her blonde head away from him. She didn't belong in a place like this, she thought to herself. She was a European. She remembered her father's words.
"The finest thing in the world is to be a European. And the finest type of European is Polish. And the finest type of Polish is a Krakowian. Na Zdrowie!" then he would take another shot of vodka.
The memory made her smile warmly as she imagined herself far away from this awful cell, and these awful people. Europeans should have a separate detention centre, she ruminated. Europeans built America after all.
A sharp bark roused her from her daydreaming.
"Kowalski! Natalia! You're up!"
She leapt to her feet and followed the guard out of the cell and into a warm office down the hall. Two men in high ranking military uniform were sat on the other side of the table. They invited her to sit down.
"My name is General Trebuchet and this is my assistant. I'm President Dunst's chief of staff."
Natalia burst out laughing.
"This is joke right?"
"This is no joke Miss Kowalksi. I understand you were arrested on prostitution charges? And upon arrest it was discovered that you overstayed your work visa by over a year?"
Her pale cheeks burned bright red
"This guy....he say he look after me, find me work as nanny...but instead he make me sleep with men, he take all the money I earn, make me live in tiny room, he take my passport."
"Why didn't you just go to the police?"
Natalia laughed derisively. "Police? What they do? Send me back to Poland to peel potatoes? No vay."
"Well Miss Kowalski, you are going to be sent back to Poland."
She turned to them with sudden pathos. "Please Mister Army man. No send me back. I just want to be American. Live in white picket fence house like in TV show Wonder Years. Please."
The General and his assistant exchanged smug glances.
"So you want to be an American Miss Kowalski?"
"Yes Mr General, I do anything please." she clasped her hands together and feigned tears.

The Incel logged onto his computer. He accessed the high security VPN that protected his identity and logged onto his secure email. He checked his Bitcoin wallet. A payment of $5000 dollars from the government of Luxembourg, in exchange for unblocking their servers. He duly unblocked them and smiled at his successful ransomware blackmail. He was a man of his word. As he glanced through his emails one caught his eye.
'From the desk of General Trebuchet. Chief of Staff to President Dunst.' It simply read:
"We have a wife for you, enclosed is a picture of her. You can pick her up at 7pm tonight from Pier 5 at the docks in your home city. No tricks."
The Incel gazed longingly at the photograph. A blonde haired, blue eyed woman smiled pleasantly. She looked a little like Taylor Swift but with a more Slavic bone structure and fuller lips.
As 7 o'clock approached Natalia grew more and more nervous. The General and several soldiers stood around her, but she had never felt more alone.
"Now just trust me Miss Kowalski nothing can go wrong. Just walk up to him, smile and we'll take care of the rest."
"General I really scared, must I do this thing?"
"Unless you want to go back to Krakow and sell your ladygarden for coal then yes I suggest you do as we say."
He nudged her through the door and onto the open pier.
"Walk out to end of the pier and wait. We'll be in the building watching.
Shivering in her little black dress Natalia Kowalski nervously walked to the end of the pier, her high heels making an audible clip clopping sound. She stood waiting, there was no-one around so she looked out over the shoreline at the boats and the seagulls. She thought about how far she'd come.
Just then she heard a voice behind her.
"Erm hey."
She shrieked in shock.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you...You must be Natalia?"
She gazed at the source of the voice. It was dark but she could make out the figure of a man. He seemed to me smiling. She stepped closer. He wasn't very tall, maybe around 5'10. The same height as her in flat shoes. He was a little on the chubby side but it might have been the winter coat he was wearing. He had a mess of dark hair and dark eyes.
"You're v..very pretty." he stammered. His voice was quite deep but soft, he reminded her of the narrator from the Wonder Years, the show that gave her her first glimpse of America.
"Thank-you." she smiled. He smiled back, genuinely.
She noticed he had very kind eyes, a little beady, but kind.
"I don't normally hang around in place like this. Not for free anyway." she said with a wry laugh.
He laughed and cleared his throat.
"Do you wanna....I dunno....go someplace else? My car is waiting nearby."
"Erm...okay sure." They started to walk. "Maybe there is coffee shop still open at.."
She heard a loud bang. It sounded like fireworks. She turned to the man and saw him slump to his knees.
She looked at him and even in the darkness could see that the top of his head was missing. He slumped forward and dark liquid poured out of his head onto the wooden boards of the pier.
She felt weak at the knees and ran towards the buildings on the shore. The General emerged from the building and guided her inside. Shaking she sat down.
"Well done Miss Kowalski. Mission complete. We got him!"
Natalie felt numb. The General spoke on his phone excitedly.
"Yes, Mr President, Operation Loser was a success. We got him. Yeah he's dead, killed on the first shot."
Natalie was then escorted to hospital where she was checked over by a doctor. Physically she was fine although the doctor recommended counseling. After an hour or so the nurse said:
"Miss Kowalski you have a special visitor. It's the President."
Natalia's eyes widened and her heart raced again.
A face she had seen so many times on the TV filled the doorway of her hospital room. President Roland Dunst marched over and shook her hand.
"Well done Miss....erm...
"Kowalski, Natalia Kowalski."
"Well done Miss Nawalsi, you did a HUGE job for this country and helped us defeat a really bad dude. A terrorist, which is the worst kind of dude. And for that I now dub you a US Citizen."
He handed her a certificate of citizenship. She took it with a grateful smile but inside she felt hollow.
Some news cameras entered the hospital room.
"This brave lady Miss Nadine Koala helped to defeat a terrible, terrible terrorist. Let this be a lesson, that beautiful women will always be the downfall of stone cold losers like him."
The cameras pointed at Natalia but all of a sudden she began to cry.
submitted by Socialist7 to creativewriting [link] [comments]

[MS] The Incel


Staff writer Sophie Miller sat at her desk in the busy office of OMG News, on the 8th floor of a downtown office block. She was trawling through her email folder.

An email from the managing director caught her eye: "Great work on the article Sophie! Click rates are through the roof!..."

This was the first direct communication from the top boss since she started at the online magazine 6 months ago. Prior to that she had been a freelance writer struggling to make ends meet. Now she was a full time staff writer and her latest article had generated a lot of publicity.

"I'd rather be beaten to death than bored to death - why a boy can never be too bad." had generated controversy, humour and condemnation. Some critics had called it crass and risible, others had called it dangerous apologism for abusers. Others saw the ironic humour and critique of toxic masculinity. The one thing no-one had called her...is boring. You could never be too controversial in an outlet like OMG news.
She continued reading the boss's email "...I'd love to discuss it with you personally, pop into my office whenever you have a moment."

Her heart raced. The managing director wanted to see her. She'd never spoken to him before. She wasted no time and headed towards his office at the other end of the floor. On the way she checked her face in the mirror. Lashes were on fleek, red hair was neatly in a bun, makeup perfectly contoured. She knocked gingerly on his office door:
"Mr Donnelly?" she inquired gingerly.
"Come in my dear!" he ushered her into the office. His normally stern face was grimacing. She found it unsettling but forced a smile nonetheless.
"You wanted to see me Sir?" she said nervously
"Yes sweetheart" (he never used the names of any of the women in the office) "I called you in here to congratulate you. Since your little article was posted on the website our engagement and clicks have gone through the roof. Now I may be an old grey-haired dinosaur but I know that for an online news service, clicks mean dollars, and that makes you a golden goose."
He grinned and she responded likewise, awkwardly.
"Now I understand you've been here 6 months?"
"Yes sir" she responded cheerfully.
He stood up and began to pace up and down the room:

"That makes you entitled to a raise, but of course raises must be justified, with...a real business case." He stood next to her and placed his hand on her lower back. She could smell the coffee on his breath as he drew closer...

As she walked back to her desk afterwards, she felt everyone was staring at her. She was paranoid her makeup or hair would be disheveled. She hurried to her computer and lowered her chair so no-one could see her. She opened her emails again. She figured she would answer the important ones then head home. She needed a shower.

"SLUT!" jumped out at her from the screen. It was the title of an email.

Oh God, someone had seen her leaving Mr Donnelly's office looking disheveled. They knew, and soon everyone would know. She'd be the talk of the office for all the wrong reasons. As she clicked on the email she realised it was sent hours ago, at 10am this morning, just after the article went live on the website.

She opened the email:

"Dear Purveyors of Immoral Filth. I recently read your article entitled

'I'd rather be beaten to death than bored to death - why a boy can never be too bad.'

Needless to say I was disgusted. You are advocating for a lifestyle that rewards the churlish brute and damages the fragile female. In your world there is room only for the Alpha male and all other males are cast by the wayside. This is a primal, barbaric mentality. Sadly there are many females out there that share your point of view, and articles like this will only encourage their depravity further. It's because of low culture svenagli's like yourself that modern womanhood is poisoned. I am unable to find a wife and folks like you are to blame.

The long and the tall of it is: I demand your 'news website' publishes a retraction, within the next 48 hours, of there will be Hell to pay. There will be no peace for the wicked.

Yours sincerely - The Incel."

At first Sophie was taken aback, then - comprehending the full meaning of the rambling nonsense, she burst out laughing. Immediately she forwarded it on to her colleagues. Then she screenshotted it and shared it to her seventy thousand Twitter followers. The reaction was one of almost universal ridicule, interspered with the odd note of concern, which she duly ignored. Sophie suddenly had an idea for her next article, which she spent the rest of the day working on.
The following morning OMG News published another article
"Incels - do they deserve our ridicule or our pity?" - by Sophie Miller.
The article got even more clicks and engagement than her previous article about bad boys. Mr Donnelly offered her a raise then and there. Late that afternoon, as the staff enjoyed a coffee break, the security guard brought in a package.
"Special delivery for Sophie Miller. Just arrived now." Curious as to what it could be she opened it.

The explosion gutted the entire 8th and 9th floor of the 10 storey office block. The fire brigade evacuated the entire building just before it collapsed in on itself. Of the 30 person staff at OMG news only 3 were pulled from the rubble. The floor above had been unoccupied but two Guatemalan maintenance men who had been cleaning up there were killed as well. Sophie's body was never identified although the crime scene investigators did find one of her shoes and her phone (still working) the lockscreen featured her cat mittens, who was taken in by a neighbor.

Moments after the explosion all the major news networks received the same email

"I am responsible for the explosion at OMG News. I warned them of the consequences of their immoral words. Below I have enclosed a link to my manifesto. If my manifesto is not published my bombing campaign will continue. There shall be no peace for the wicked.
Kind Regards.
The Incel"
The editors of the major news networks were unanimous in their opinion that this so-called 'manifesto' was rambling, misogynistic garbage, ranting about Chads, Stacies and trad values and so they were united in their refusal to give it the time of day.
A week went by since the OMG news bombing. Investigators were at a loss to find any evidence. The FBI were called in. They set up an incident room nearby, headed by an FBI Assistant Director. They took forensic samples of everything but there was no trace of any DNA anywhere, the original package had been destroyed in the explosion. They checked the security footage from the office building reception. Grainy footage captured a figure in a black hoodie dropping the package at the doors and quickly fleeing the scene. The figure was average height and the face was indistinguishable.
Just as he was getting ready to go home, the Assistant Director's phone rang. It was his junior agent.
"There's been another bomb, this time at NRC News."
Smoke billowed out of the reception of the NRC news building. The Assistant Director arrived to a scene of chaos. Sirens wailed as medics helped the walking wounded to waiting ambulances. It wasn't long before police assessed the scene and found that 6 staff members were missing, presumed dead. Their corpses were pulled from the rubble before nightfall.
Another message was sent, this time to the FBI Incident Room. It read:
"I hope you enjoyed the fireworks. Next time it will be a school or a Mosque. I will continue my campaign unless the government provides me with a wife. She must be slim, pretty and below the age of 25. You have one week."

The FBI Assistant Director turned to his junior agent. "That's 35 people this bastard has killed so far. We're gonna have to take this higher."

President Ronald Dunst sat at his large desk in the oval office. His Chief of Staff General Trebuchet walked in:
"Mr President, there's been another bombing, 6 people have been killed in this bombing, that's on top of the 29 in the last bombing. The FBI are saying we need to do something. Fast."
"Who is doing these bombings General? Is it Isis? ETA? China?"
"It's...an Incel Sir."
"A what now?"
"An Incel, a guy that...can't have sex...and he's pretty darn mad."
"Sounds like a stone cold loser to me. What does he want? Money?."
"Well Sir, originally he just wanted his manifesto published..."
"Well let's do it then, let this freak have his 15 minutes of fame."
"But now Sir....he wants a wife."
"A wife?"
"Yes and he wants a hot wife too."
"Do we know who he is?"
"We know his email address" the general replied. "We traced it though the manifesto he sent. He kept repeating the phrase 'No peace for the wicked' which is wrong, it's 'no rest for the wicked'. We typed that phrase into the search bar of an incel forum and brought up his account which was linked to his email.
"Hmmm" the president rubbed his chin. "What sane woman would want to marry a psycho freak like that?" The President paced up and down the oval office. He gazed at the flag and exclaimed:
"General, I have an idea....."

Natalia Kowalski sat shivering on a metal bench in the holding cell of the Immigrant Detention Center. The stone walls seemed to be closing in on her and her fellow occupants. She gazed around at the sea of brown and black faces. A bald African man was staring at her. She turned her blonde head away from him. She didn't belong in a place like this, she thought to herself. She was a European. She remembered her father's words.
"The finest thing in the world is to be a European. And the finest type of European is Polish. And the finest type of Polish is a Krakowian. Na Zdrowie!" then he would take another shot of vodka.
The memory made her smile warmly as she imagined herself far away from this awful cell, and these awful people. Europeans should have a separate detention centre, she ruminated. Europeans built America after all.
A sharp bark roused her from her daydreaming.
"Kowalski! Natalia! You're up!"
She leapt to her feet and followed the guard out of the cell and into a warm office down the hall. Two men in high ranking military uniform were sat on the other side of the table. They invited her to sit down.
"My name is General Trebuchet and this is my assistant. I'm President Dunst's chief of staff."
Natalia burst out laughing.
"This is joke right?"
"This is no joke Miss Kowalksi. I understand you were arrested on prostitution charges? And upon arrest it was discovered that you overstayed your work visa by over a year?"
Her pale cheeks burned bright red
"This guy....he say he look after me, find me work as nanny...but instead he make me sleep with men, he take all the money I earn, make me live in tiny room, he take my passport."
"Why didn't you just go to the police?"
Natalia laughed derisively. "Police? What they do? Send me back to Poland to peel potatoes? No vay."
"Well Miss Kowalski, you are going to be sent back to Poland."
She turned to them with sudden pathos. "Please Mister Army man. No send me back. I just want to be American. Live in white picket fence house like in TV show Wonder Years. Please."
The General and his assistant exchanged smug glances.
"So you want to be an American Miss Kowalski?"
"Yes Mr General, I do anything please." she clasped her hands together and feigned tears.

The Incel logged onto his computer. He accessed the high security VPN that protected his identity and logged onto his secure email. He checked his Bitcoin wallet. A payment of $5000 dollars from the government of Luxembourg, in exchange for unblocking their servers. He duly unblocked them and smiled at his successful ransomware blackmail. He was a man of his word. As he glanced through his emails one caught his eye.
'From the desk of General Trebuchet. Chief of Staff to President Dunst.' It simply read:
"We have a wife for you, enclosed is a picture of her. You can pick her up at 7pm tonight from Pier 5 at the docks in your home city. No tricks."
The Incel gazed longingly at the photograph. A blonde haired, blue eyed woman smiled pleasantly. She looked a little like Taylor Swift but with a more Slavic bone structure and fuller lips.

As 7 o'clock approached Natalia grew more and more nervous. The General and several soldiers stood around her, but she had never felt more alone.
"Now just trust me Miss Kowalski nothing can go wrong. Just walk up to him, smile and we'll take care of the rest."
"General I really scared, must I do this thing?"
"Unless you want to go back to Krakow and sell your ladygarden for coal then yes I suggest you do as we say."
He nudged her through the door and onto the open pier.
"Walk out to end of the pier and wait. We'll be in the building watching.
Shivering in her little black dress Natalia Kowalski nervously walked to the end of the pier, her high heels making an audible clip clopping sound. She stood waiting, there was no-one around so she looked out over the shoreline at the boats and the seagulls. She thought about how far she'd come.
Just then she heard a voice behind her.
"Erm hey."
She shrieked in shock.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you...You must be Natalia?"
She gazed at the source of the voice. It was dark but she could make out the figure of a man. He seemed to me smiling. She stepped closer. He wasn't very tall, maybe around 5'10. The same height as her in flat shoes. He was a little on the chubby side but it might have been the winter coat he was wearing. He had a mess of dark hair and dark eyes.
"You're v..very pretty." he stammered. His voice was quite deep but soft, he reminded her of the narrator from the Wonder Years, the show that gave her her first glimpse of America.
"Thank-you." she smiled. He smiled back, genuinely.
She noticed he had very kind eyes, a little beady, but kind.
"I don't normally hang around in place like this. Not for free anyway." she said with a wry laugh.
He laughed and cleared his throat.
"Do you wanna....I dunno....go someplace else? My car is waiting nearby."
"Erm...okay sure." They started to walk. "Maybe there is coffee shop still open at.."
She heard a loud bang. It sounded like fireworks. She turned to the man and saw him slump to his knees.
She looked at him and even in the darkness could see that the top of his head was missing. He slumped forward and dark liquid poured out of his head onto the wooden boards of the pier.
She felt weak at the knees and ran towards the buildings on the shore. The General emerged from the building and guided her inside. Shaking she sat down.
"Well done Miss Kowalski. Mission complete. We got him!"
Natalie felt numb. She heard the General on the phone.
"Yes, Mr President, Operation Loser was a success. We got him. Yeah he's dead, killed on the first shot."
Natalie was then escorted to hospital where she was checked over by a doctor. Physically she was fine although the doctor recommended counseling. After an hour or so the nurse said:
"Miss Kowalski you have a special visitor. It's the President."
Natalia's eyes widened and her heart raced again.
A face she had seen so many times on the TV filled the doorway of her hospital room. President Roland Dunst marched over and shook her hand.
"Well done Miss....erm...
"Kowalski, Natalia Kowalski."
"Well done Miss Nawalsi, you did a HUGE job for this country and helped us defeat a really bad dude. A terrorist, which is the worst kind of dude. And for that I now dub you a US Citizen."
He handed her a certificate of citizenship. She took it with a grateful smile but inside she felt hollow.
Some news cameras entered the hospital room.
"This brave lady Miss Nadine Koala helped to defeat a terrible, terrible terrorist. Let this be a lesson that beautiful women will always be the downfall of stone cold losers like him."
The cameras pointed at Natalia but all of a sudden she began to cry.
submitted by Socialist7 to shortstories [link] [comments]

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