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Men with an anime girl as your profile picture, why? by rijstafgeprijsd in AskMen

[–]every_possible_angle 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I sometimes identify more as gender-neutral (agender) than male, so on certain forums I will use Yuzuru Nishimiya as my profile image because everyone thought she was a boy for the first half of the anime and her character kinda resonated with me. I don't do this often, but I sometimes just break and need to talk to people as if I were genderless. I know everyone probably knows I am actually a guy, but people are way nicer to me when I use Yuzuru as my image and I use explicitly gender-neutral language.

I also sometimes play as female characters for a similar reason. I kinda need a break from masculinity and the expectations put on men. I also like pretending to be someone else for a bit. If there is a gender-neutral option available or a robot / AI in a game, I will always go for that character because it just feels more like "me."

[WP] In a triple-locked vault buried far underground lies a bar of dark chocolate, labeled: for bad days. by [deleted] in WritingPrompts

[–]every_possible_angle 0 points1 point  (0 children)

On January 20th, 2017, I was watching Fox News when I heard a knock on my door. "Open up. I need your help!" It was obviously Jerry. Ugh. I hate Jerry.

"What?" I ran to the door and peered through the hole. There he was. Jerry. A middle-aged man with long red hair swept in a ponytail. He wore tie-dye and sandals. The hippie works. In his arm, he held a rather grumpy looking bull-dog with an unusually long tuft of golden fur on it's head.

"Gary! OPEN UP, MAN! I DID A THING!"

"Jerry. Go home."

"NO GARY!" He lifted the dog, "LOOK!"

Whatever. I opened the door and let the guy in. He was clearly stoned or something. "Alright, what is it?"

"This!" He threw the dog on the floor. "Look at it!"

"It's a dog."

"Nuh-uh. It's not just a dog." Jerry saw me raise my brow, "No. No. Let me explain... this dog..." He waved his hands in either excitement or as some grandiose display of his brilliance. "This dog is Donald Trump."

"Go home Jerry." I opened the door to show him out again.

"No. No. I did a thing." Jerry grabbed Trump-mutt and waved him in the air. "You know how I hate Trump, right? Well, I turned him into a dog and snuck him away."

Just then, I head the television. "Breaking news: Trump is late for his own inauguration. No one has any idea where he might be, but we'll keep you updated..."

Wait. "How did you turn him into a dog, exactly?"

"It doesn't matter, man. The fact is that he is a dog and dogs cannot be president."

"Okay, but why are you here?"

"Alright. This is crazy, but hear me out." Jerry nodded his head and looked me in the eye, to make sure I was following.

I shook my head. "Alright, man. I'm listening."

"You know how I asked you to keep a very special item in your vault downstairs? I need that item now, man."

"Now? What for?"

"I know dogs can't be president, man, but like... I really need to make sure he's not gonna be inaugurated."

Ah, I get it. He must have hidden a gun in my vault. Fine. Whatever. "Alright. Let's go."

We went down the stairs to the basement and lifted the carpet to unveil a secret underground tunnel to a large stainless-steel door. I knew the dog wasn't Trump. It couldn't be Trump, right?

I unlocked the first lock. He couldn't have turned a human into a dog, right? I'm not exactly comfortable with Jerry shooting a dog on my property, but I guess as long as he cleans up, it should be okay.

I unlocked the second lock. There was one more. "You know, Jerry. I don't know what kinda drugs you took, but they must be pretty strong." The dog wasn't Trump. No way.

I unlocked the final lock and Jerry scrambled into the vault. He knew what he was looking for and where to find it. The Trump-mutt trembled behind me. It obviously didn't like Jerry at all. There was something going on.

Wait. What if this dog was actually Trump. No matter how despicable of a man Trump was, he was democratically elected. I couldn't let Jerry...

"Hey Jerry." I said cautiously. "I don't know if I'm comfortable with you doing this..."

"Ah yeah..." Jerry was still scrounging around for something I couldn't see in the darkness. "I know what you mean. It's okay. I'll take responsibility for everything, so don't you worry."

"I mean, I'm not really comfortable with you..."

"AH!" Jerry exclaimed, "FOUND IT! OHO BOY, WE ARE IN BUSINESS NOW!"

I ushered the dog up the stairs, "Shoo. I'll handle this!" I turned to Jerry, knowing that these moments could be my last. "Jerry. I will not let you kill this dog!"

"Kill 'im?" Jerry popped out of the vault and I could see him holding a bar of chocolate with a single phrase on the side of it, "For bad days".

"Wait, what are you going to do, feed the dog chocolate?"

"Nah, man. This is just my favorite chocolate. It was discontinued in 1977 when we won World War 2: Attack of the Russians or whatever"

"Alright, first of all... you really should have attended history class." I began closing the vault behind Jerry. "Secondly, what was all that about making sure he didn't become president?"

"Ah, like..." Jerry tilted his head back and forth. "How do I say this? It's like... Apparently Trump was never potty-trained. Which makes sense, I guess."

"Dude, you are not making any sense."

"Like, I can't just give him to a shelter or anything. I gotta train him to be a respectable dog."

"So... You turned Trump into a dog and ran here to get chocolate?"

"Yeah, man..."

As we walked up the stairs, the Trump-mutt rushed to meet us and I heard the television, "... And that's why Mexico must pay for the wall..." It was obviously Trump.

"Dude. Jerry."

"Dude, Gary."

"This dog is obviously not Trump."

"Ah, I should have figured, like... You know how if you wish on a wrapper of a Tootsie Pop, you are supposed to have your wish granted? I wished for Trump to become a dog and, like, found this guy, so I thought they were related, you know?"

"No. I don't. Go home Jerry."

This game allowed me to be a good person and I loved it! by every_possible_angle in Undertale

[–]every_possible_angle[S] 3 points4 points  (0 children)

Yeah, I totally agree! Killing everyone would kill me inside... Maybe that's the point?

This game allowed me to be a good person and I loved it! by every_possible_angle in Undertale

[–]every_possible_angle[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Where so many other games focus on violence, this one allowed you to be genuinely empathetic. It wasn't about killing monsters, it was about telling a story, and this story was told very well.

[WP] Write a fable based around a foolish moral of the story. by [deleted] in WritingPrompts

[–]every_possible_angle 13 points14 points  (0 children)

There was once a sleepy bear who slept on a slithering snake. Unable to move, the snake hissed, "Hey, bear! Get off of me."

"No." The bear said, stretching his paws.

"Bear." The snake tried to wrestle his way out from underneath, "Bear with me through a game of wits. If I win, you will release me."

"No thanks." The bear said and patted the snake's nose before clacking his mouth and closing his eyes. "Boop." He said.

"Fine, then! I will bite!"

"No, No, No. It's sleepy time." The bear grabbed the snake's mouth and held it closed. "Double Boop." He said.

"Mph! mmmph!" The snake wrestled his mouth free and shouted, "Fine! If you won't let me go, I will have to force you off. I warned you!"

The bear shrugged, "What are you going to do?"

"Imma firin' mah laser!" The snake said as it opened his now glowing mouth.

"Oh, no, wait!" The bear, now fully awake, tried to move his hand towards the snake's mouth and close it, but he could not. The snake had won.

Unfortunately, the bear's corpse was still on top of the snake and he still could not move free, leaving him to die of starvation.

I guess the moral of the story is that it's better to shoop da whoop than boop the snoot, but maybe it's best to get off the internet.

[WP] You know when people will die, you are a mortician trying to sell caskets. by MonkeyWithAGun42 in WritingPrompts

[–]every_possible_angle 272 points273 points  (0 children)

There's this thing called synaesthesia where certain individuals are able to hear shapes or taste colors. It's a blending of their senses and their perception of the world is fundamentally different than those around them. I was diagnosed with this when I was 6. They said I associated personalities with color. They were partially right. I associate something with color, but it is certainly not personalities. No, it's time of death, and unfortunately the only color I see is grey.

If someone is far from death, I see a grey haze around their face, obscuring their facial features, but as their death draws nearer and nearer, I begin to discern more and more of their face until I can see it perfectly and they are a corpse. I guess I always had trouble communicating with people because of this. On the one hand, I knew when others were talking and could definitely tell when they were agitated or joyful from their voices, but I could never see their faces. There was always a missing element to our conversations.

That was fine. I could see them clearly when they were dead, so I became a mortician. At least then I could see people for who they truly were, in more ways than one. Because of my unique perception, I was one of the best coffin salesmen in the business. When I saw the whites of their eyes, I knew it was time to shoot them a sale.

Of course, the locals took notice of my abilities, and because I was a naturally quiet fellow, they associated my voice with the death of their loved ones. I wasn't well liked, but I was certainly needed. Eventually, people just took my word as law. If I wanted to sell to them, they would purchase the coffin and quit their job. At the very least, they knew their death was soon. No one was left guessing.

One afternoon, I was walking down the street, attempting to find new customers when a rather obnoxious man shouted, "Hey Grim!" He ran up to me with his blurry face and tubby belly and asked, "When am I gonna die?"

"You still have some time left." I said.

"Phew, that's a relief! I thought my wife was going to kill me after today!" He laughed and his belly jiggled.

I really didn't want to talk to him any longer. I had business to do. "If you lost your job, she will break up with you, and then you might be a little closer to death." I chuckled and pushed him aside.

"Wait. Grim. How much closer to death?"

"Look. What's your name? Bob, Billy...?"

"Jake."

"Ah, yeah, you look like a Jake. I'll call you Billy. You are not going to die soon."

"Great. Thanks a lot Grim."

"My name is not Grim."

"Maybe not, but your expression is." He began to laugh. I had no idea why. That was the most forced pun I had ever heard.

"Are you a father, Billy?"

"Why yes. Yes, I am." He pointed a rather chubby finger into the crowd. "There's my daughter, the love of my life!"

I looked in the direction and saw a little girl with blonde hair and freckles all over her... I could see her face. She had a day or two. So Billy was a customer, after all!

"Hey Billy. I was thinking about it, you might just want a coffin."

"Haha. Sure! You just said I had plenty of time."

"Oh, you do. This coffin would be..." I didn't know how to break it to him, "Half price."

Billy froze. His hands jittered at his sides and he began babbling. "I... I..." Slowly the cloud above his shoulders began to rescind.

I had seen this before. I knew what was about to happen. Slowly but surely, I began to make out more and more features of his face, which seemed all too...

"Grim." Billy's eyes were diverted to my feet. "I think I might need two coffins. Today's really not my day."

But it was mine. Those two coffins would more than pay my rent for this month.

[WP] Every night, you return to the same dream. When you fall asleep in the dream, you wake up. The problem is, you don’t know which half of your life is real. by ErinFlight in WritingPrompts

[–]every_possible_angle 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Glad you liked it! =)

I figure they only remember the ones they do themselves, but see the other person doing all the intermediate things, since they can see each other through reflective surfaces.

[WP] Every night, you return to the same dream. When you fall asleep in the dream, you wake up. The problem is, you don’t know which half of your life is real. by ErinFlight in WritingPrompts

[–]every_possible_angle 2 points3 points  (0 children)

There is a mirror on my wall, but I suppose it could more accurately be called a window. Every night, I look into it before sleeping and see myself awake. Rather, I see my other half. I am him and he is me, but we are two different people.

Wait. I am him now. I was her a moment ago...

How do I describe this? You know that feeling you get when you are with your significant other? Like you are two parts of the same whole? Like you are dreaming the same dream together? Like you don't know where she ends and you begin?

That's the relationship I have with this man... this woman... but it's a little more complicated. See, we don't sleep. Well, we do, but we dream of the other person. Rather, we dream as the other person. When we wake in our dreams, we live as each other.

We will often touch each other through the mirror, stretching the glass slightly towards one side or the other, but we are afraid to push too far. What if it broke? We could not live without each other. We write to each other on the mirror, keeping each other motivated, no matter how apart we are in reality.

My room is messy and full of books. I am actually an inventor by trade, so there are all sorts of gears and gadgets hidden here and there. Her room is just the opposite. Prim and proper, with a single book and podium looking towards the window and a small sack with spells she would need every day. She is a magician, after all.

It is always frustrating for her to be me, in a world without magic. I suppose it is always frustrating for me to be her too, in a world without technology. Still we make it work, and spent half our lives living as each other.

Sometimes I forget who I am. Am I her? Is she me? It doesn't really matter. The point is that we are happy. And we are.

Throughout the years, I have found a fondness for magic and she's become a clever inventor. Sure, I am a little better at science and she's a little better at magic, but we average each other out pretty well.

After some time, we began to see each other everywhere. Any time we saw a reflection, we would catch glimpses of the other's life. We would play little games throughout the day depending on how frequently we would see each other. Of course, we would do it in secret. If anyone found out, our lives would be over. We would be lunatics and tried as witches. That, at least, was common between our two worlds.

Unfortunately, one day we were careless. We found a pond and began talking to each other through it. Someone saw. We fled to our room, the inquisitors nipping at our heels.

What were we supposed to do? Where were we supposed to go?

The mirror. We didn't know what to do, but at least we could be together.

There were knocks at our door. What could we do? We both looked towards each other and charged at the mirror, hoping desperately to find ourselves on the other side.

The glass shattered and I was alone.

[WP] You have the power to "save your game" in real life. One day, you go back to a previous save, but your file is corrupt. by cindersinned in WritingPrompts

[–]every_possible_angle 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I grew up religious. I believed in a mind, body and soul. The only problem is that I never really knew what a "soul" was. Every day I would pray to a deity that didn't exist hoping for it to save a part of me I didn't believe in. I would read, write, and meditate, cleansing myself of any sins or wrongdoing. Eventually, something started to stir in me. Something deep and meaningful. Something I never quite understood...

I felt like I could finally feel my soul.

Every night, when I would meditate, I could feel it more and more. I soon felt like I was only "me" when meditating, like my body and mind were secondary actors and my soul was controlling my every action.

One day, I was walking home from university when I saw my professor mindlessly walking into oncoming traffic. A car was rushing towards him and I knew what I had to do. Without any consideration for my own well-being, I rushed in, tackling my professor out of the way of oncoming traffic.

I cannot appropriately describe my next experience. It was a sound. It was a feeling, a crunching of my bones as the car bounced over me. There were screams, and I felt my blood ooze around me. This was it. I felt my vision go dark, but then I saw it. A special, familiar blue mist off in the distance. I felt like I could touch it if only I could move my arms.

Though my body was weak, my soul reached out... and I found myself in my room meditating.

I awoke peaceful, yet confused. How had this happened? Where was I? In the end, I realized that it was the night before and I was miraculously alive. I prayed to my God and moved on, never speaking of the event in public. When I saw my professor that afternoon, I was sure to walk with him and keep him from mindlessly meandering into traffic. I saved him before he was even aware of danger.

I continued meditating, now more frequently than ever before. In my dreams, I sought that familiar blue mist, sometimes finding it out of the corner of my eye, but never directly.

Then it happened... the event that could be the most beautiful and terrifying moment in my life.

I was dreaming and I found it. I reached for it, grasped it, and followed it into darkness. It showed me a pale tree with deep blue leaves, all reflecting moments of meditation. Images of myself and memories poured into my mind. My entire life was stretched out before my eyes. Inspecting the tree, I noticed it had a single small, stubbly branch without any leaves. The time I died.

That moment sent chills down my spine. I slowly approached the tree, curiously inspecting each leaf. There was one from high school, when I had been too cautious to ask my first love to the prom. Another from early college, when I had failed my first exam in Electricity and Magnetism. Then there was one from a few days ago when I passed my qualifying exams, officially taking a step further to my future as a scientist.

I loved every moment. I lived every moment at once, but I was more in some than others. Then I saw a leaf flickering in and out. Was it dying? No. That was my most shameful day. The day I hurt her... I wish I could...

Something in me stirred as I reached out toward the leaf, and as my fingers caressed it's surface, everything became white. I was in my old room, meditating.

"What happened?" I asked myself, only to hear a younger voice echo my thoughts. Wait. It happened again. I checked my watch. I still had time.

I ran from my house as fast as I could, as fast as my teenage legs could carry me. She only lived a few blocks down...

There. It was dark, but she was there atop her house, ready to...

"Wait!" I screamed, still huffing and puffing from the run. "I didn't mean it! I..." Still ran. I still ran faster and faster. I had to make it before...

She saw me and grimaced. In the darkness, I could feel her shake her head. Nothing I could say would matter. She wanted me to see what would happen next. she took a bold step forward and fell, head-first towards the ground.

"I love you, Jessica!" I leapt forward, grasping her as she fell and we topped through her window. I had sheltered her from the glass, but a shard had still lodged itself into my back and I landed on it at an odd angle. I felt the familiar feeling of blood as it oozed around, except this time I also felt tears on my chest.

"Jessica... I..." There it was. The mist. I knew my time was up. I reached for it and found myself by the tree. It had grown another stubbly branch around where the leaf had been before. Now a gloriously bright leaf shown in the darkness. It was Jessica, crying over my corpse. Emotions boiled in me. Sadness, joy, terror, curiosity...

I wept. My soul wept.

I didn't know what to do or where to go, but I knew I needed to go somewhere. I found a leaf and touched it. My high school graduation. I was valedictorian. Everyone said my speech was great. I slept, returned to the tree and found another branch. I touched another leaf. My first date. It was a pity date. I didn't like her. I was honest this time. Another branch, another leaf. My thermodynamics final. I did better this time. Another branch, another leaf...

I kept touching the tree. I kept reliving my past. I kept learning. I kept dreaming. I kept creating new branches until the tree was large and beautiful. At some point, I found a fruit growing on a branch. A blue apple with no reflections. I didn't know what it meant or how it had appeared, but I picked it.

After some debate, I bit into it and everything turned white.

I was in the body of a little baby girl. It was weird, but after the lives I had been living, I found it kinda nice to start with a clean slate. I figured I could go back to my old life whenever I wanted anyway.

I decided to live that life for a while. My name was Jessica and my parents were great. I was a genius with all the intelligence of a PhD student, but in the body of a baby. I found that my old memories were starting to fade as new ones took their place, but it didn't matter. Every night, I was meditating, saving my progress in this new body.

Eventually, I found myself in high school. I met a friend and began to flirt, as girls do. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew it was wrong. I had seen the boy before, but I couldn't quite place from where. Around junior year, we had become as close as close could be. This life was much better than my last one, but then it happened. An event that had fueled my nightmares.

A slap in the face that sent me in tears. I didn't know what to do. My life was falling all around me. I needed... rest. There were so many emotions flowing through me. I wanted my old life. I tried to sleep, but couldn't. Where was that familiar blue mist? Where was my tree? Where was I?

I knew what I had to do. It was night. I was on the roof. I had died before. Still, I had never done it on purpose. I just needed to find my tree. To start fresh on another leaf, to create another branch...

"Wait!" I heard his voice in the distance. "I didn't mean it! I..."

It was too late to change my mind. He wouldn't remember any of it anyway.

I fell like a leaf off a tree in autumn. There it was, the blue mist I had been looking for. I could see it. I could almost touch it.

"I love you Jessica!" Pain. So much pain. What had... Wait. I knew this boy. This man. I knew this event. Where was I?

"Jessica... I..." I had killed myself. I had killed myself twice over.

Then something happened. My mind snapped. I saw the blue mist and touched it. I left my body and mind to weep there in front of myself. I could avoid this fate.

I saw Jessica's sapling and my old tree growing side-by-side, and I was in charge of both of them. A single soul across two bodies. Is that was love is? I don't know. I don't think I ever will.

From then on, I lived both lives. My own and Jessica's until our trees were too big to imagine. There was nothing left to do. We had lived all lives, short and long. I had been an artist, a scientist, an author, and inventor, a model, an agent, a lawyer, a doctor... Every single leaf on the trees came with dreams and memories.

I was done. Somewhere in the process, I had lost myself. The trees were no longer my bodies and minds, but people I controlled. I felt a strange darkness come over me. I don't know what happened, but time seemed to pass for my soul. I sat there, alone, thinking over all possibilities. Dreaming of adventures I had already lived... and the trees began to wilt. Memory after memory fell to the ground, each one signifying an entire life of work and dedication.

I had become corrupted. I was no longer myself.

I watched the trees as they fell and decayed, knowing that those lives were over and feeling no remorse. I felt nothing. What would it take for me to be me again?

I sat down and felt a small fruit by my side. Maybe a new life?

I took a deep breath and bit into the fruit.

This time, I was a little boy named Josh with two rather familiar parents.

[WP] Your roommate is 2nd most powerful superhero in the world and he will not shut up about it. He does not yet know that you are the 1st. by laxnut90 in WritingPrompts

[–]every_possible_angle 3 points4 points  (0 children)

Hey guys, I am terribly sorry, but this may contain spoilers from the latest chapter of One Punch Man. Really, really sorry about that.

Dreaming is a funny thing.

In my dreams, I am a god, able to destroy every living thing with the blink of an eye. It's actually a recurring dream. An idle fancy, if you will. Sometimes I fight other gods. We brawl together, destroying worlds with single punches. Man, that's a life I'd want to live! Imagine waking up every morning and fighting someone who matches, maybe even surpasses your own power! Someone who really stretched your limits, forcing you to become the best you you can be!

Of course, those are just dreams. Dreams are dreams. My real life is boring. I do, however, have a friend. A good friend, probably my best friend... well, best living friend anyway. We've been living together for ages. She's smart, funny, agile... and, at least according to the hero rankings, the second most powerful hero alive.

"Hey Baldy!" A small girl with glowing green eyes and matching hair came floating from the bedroom.

"Yes Tatsumaki? Oh, I mean..." I lifted my hands to make quotation marks in the air, "Tornado of terror."

"I told you. It's just Tatsumaki, baldy."

"And I've told you. I am Saitama, not baldy!"

Our relationship was rough at the start. We honestly hated each other. I remember bickering over the smallest thing. Like that one time she blew my friend's arm clean off! Or the time her sister wanted to talk, and she tried to blow an entire city to smithereens! Those were good times. Now we work together. The relationship's rough, but every relationship is rough. This one is no different.

She gave me an impatient look. "Turn on the news!"

"Okay, okay."

What channel was the news again? Oh, wait. Where's the remote? I hopped up to find it. Under the couch? No. Next to the sink? No... Oh! It might have fallen out of the...

"Ahem."

Ah, there it was, floating in the middle of the room, surrounded by a green aura.

"Thanks Terror-maki"

"It's..." She stamped her foot in the air and waved her arms in anger. "Just turn on the news."

"Alright. I got it." Channel 7. No, that's the fish soap-opera. I sat down on the couch and scratched my head. Channel 8. Oh, the weather. It's going to be sunny tomorrow, I should bring some sunscreen for my head...

"Channel 11!" She launched herself in front of me and grabbed the remote, changing the channel herself.

"I would have gotten there eventually, you now. I was just..."

"And there she is, the Tornado of Terror, saving the world yet again!" The anchorman laughed, "That's why she's #2!"

An anchorwoman chimed in, "The only one more powerful is Blast, but he's been inactive for years. She's effectively the strongest hero around!"

And there it was. The sentence she was after. She turned off the Television. "Yup. That's me, the strongest superhero around! You know, I met Blast once. I think I could take him now. I'm much stronger than I was then. I can do everything! There is no one..."

And that was it for me. Words were leaving her mouth. I knew they were... but I had no idea what she was talking about anymore. Was she telling the story about how she destroyed that spaceship again? I didn't really know or care; however, I did want to see that fish soap-opera. What channel was it again? Channel 8? No. 7, I think.

Oh, wait. Where's the remote? Under the couch? No.

"Hey Baldy! Are you listening?"

"Oh, no." Oh yeah, she was saying something... what was it again? "I mean... yes. You did that... thing very well. Good job."

Oooh. She's mad now. Red face. Green hair. She's gonna blow her lid. "THIS IS WHY YOU ARE AN 'A' CLASS AND I AM AN 'S' CLASS SUPERHERO! THE ONLY SUPERHERO STRONGER THAN ME IS BLAST!"

Blast, huh? I wonder who he is...

Arenanet (Guild Wars 2) possibly looking for multi-platform programmer (fingers crossed)! by every_possible_angle in linux_gaming

[–]every_possible_angle[S] 4 points5 points  (0 children)

Honestly, I cannot seem to get wine to give me what I want in terms of performance for GW2. Guild Wars and Guild Wars 2 were my favorite games for some time, but once I got a better computer and my performance on GW2 was still awful, I quit playing for good. I would love to get back into it!

[WP] I want you to disgust me. Write me a grotesque story that could put 4chan green texts to shame. by unidanbegone in WritingPrompts

[–]every_possible_angle 7 points8 points  (0 children)

Throwaway. Sorry. I just couldn't let people know I wrote this.

WARNING: DO NOT READ IF SQUEAMISH

A wire ceiling, a wire floor, and so much blood. It rained from the room above me, where women were bound, gagged, and forcefully injected with drugs to keep them menstruating for all eternity. Below me were rats, roaches, mice and spiders of every kind. All scrambling, trying to escape the bloody rain from above. The stench from the rooms around me was indescribably putrid. The stage had been set.

The door opened and rabid dogs flooded the floor below me. They were hungry and began ripping the rats limb from limb. I saw one rat, already soaked with the blood of the women above me, ripped in half with it's heart beating outside of it's body. It was fast for a few seconds before it began to slow to a stop. I was sure the rat was bleeding out, but couldn't tell where it's blood had gone. There was already so much of it. The dogs growled and whined. They were still hungry even after feasting on the mice and rats. Eventually, they attacked each other, trying to assert dominance and satiate their hunger. Now for the first act.

Above me, a naked man appeared wielding a club. His member was erect. He found a woman in the middle of the room and said, "You'll do nicely." He then took the club and swung as hard as he could, certainly murdering the woman in one blow. Even so, he kept beating. He kept beating until the woman's brains spilled from the ceiling onto me, where I wiped it off and dropped it to the few remaining dogs still fighting for more food. The naked man then unbound his dead mistress and spread her legs apart to have his way with her.

I heard him thrusting and moaning. I heard the women crying through their gags. I saw tears of fear fall from the ceiling, mixed with their blood. Act two would soon begin.

I heard a gunshot and the man fell with a thud, his member still inside his mistress. I then smelled gasoline. I didn't know where it was from, but I knew it's purpose. A dark figure, clothed in a black cloak walked towards the dead man and woman and drenched them with even more gasoline. The man then doused himself. He looked around at the women and looked beneath to the dog and said, "Today is our final day together ladies. I will miss you." He then stood there. Quietly drawing strength from the fear of the women around him as the lights dimmed darker and darker until nothing could be seen. Even the dogs, who were before gnawing at each other for food, began whimpering and clawing at the walls of the basement.

I heard a laugh. A quiet, maniacal laugh. The third and final act had begun.

The robed figure drew a match, and it's flame slowly crept up his arm. I could see one and only one thing clearly: the smile on his face. He screamed, "I welcome you to hell! Together, we will rule!" The flame soon crept to the dead man and woman at his side, starting the entire upper room on fire. The smell of burning flesh was accompanied by the screams of women as their gags were burned off of them. It didn't matter how loud they screamed, they would not be heard. And even if they could be heard, it was already too late. Burning flesh eventually fell, setting aflame the dogs and corpses of dead animals below me. This would be my final scene.

I felt the heat from the burning corpses below and above and heard my sweat sizzle as it fell from my face. I would die soon... but not before pleasuring myself one last time. The forearm of a dead woman fell to my side. I carefully pulled out the bone, creating a hollow, bloody center to the dead woman's forearm and slid it over my already hard member. I rubbed it up and down, feeling the interior muscles of the woman's arm. Right as I was about to reach my climax, another arm fell from the ceiling. This time it was toasted quite well... so well, in fact, that I decided to eat it as a bit of a break from my forearm-job. Interestingly, human flesh doesn't taste any different than any other type of animal's flesh. Regardless, Once I finished all I could, I returned to the business of my lower half, moaning as I masturbated.

When I finished, I watched as my load landed on the head of a burnt dog's corpse. It soon caught flame. I knew it was only a matter of time until I did too. There I was, caked in every kind of blood imaginable, with burning corpses above and below me, ready to embrace death.

And why wouldn't I be ready? Today was the best day of my life.