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Story for the day (Sunday)

CaptainWacky

CaptainWacky

I want to smell dark matter
He sat the edge of his bed and it felt as though he was sitting on the edge of an abyss, at the edge of the world. Just stay on the bed, he told himself. You're safe there. You don't have to do it. You don't have to indulge. Just lie back and think happy thoughts. Nice thoughts. Positive thoughts. But he couldn't. His time on Earth was limited, he told himself. He should do what he enjoys. He leaned over the abyss and reached into it. He picked up the box and moved back to the centre of his bed.

He held the box to his ear and he could hear them screaming. No, it couldn't be. It was just a box at the moment. It didn't become real until he entered it. Was that how it happened? Did he shrink down and enter the box or did it grow to lifesize and consume him? He wasn't sure. Maybe he could make it so...but how could he make it do anything? This was real. He wasn't imagining it. He wasn't just creating it with his mind! No, he couldn't be! Don't think that, not even for a moment. It's real. He has a reality in a box and it's real. The screams were the part he was imagining. Yes of course, that was it.

He entered the box.

Now the screams were real. His victims. Oh, if only he could make them understand. He was giving them a gift! Immortality. Yes, they were in pain. Yes, they would be in more pain if he decided to visit them. But eventually, perhaps, he would find a way to make them his equal...well, not his equal, but one order of being below him. Above the rest of the humanity. The scum. The scum he'd wipe out as soon as he was strong enough. And they were safe in his box. They didn't understand that. They were being tortured. Well, it was the only way he could enjoy them. Just having naked women and girls imprisoned used to be enough to excite him. Now they had to be in pain. He looked at the girl with the huge breasts on the rack. Oh, to rape her now...no. He'd raped her enough. He had to face his fear. He moved to the centre of the box. The home of the actress.

How was it that she had gone on making movies (many of them great!) while imprisoned in his box, he mused. Well, it was obvious. He'd created a duplicate when he had took her. That was the only explanation that made sense. After all, this was all real. She was really trapped here. This wasn't just a tawdry masturbation fantasy of his. It was strange that he couldn't remember creating the duplicate and that the thought hadn't come to him until later on when he had seen an advert for her newest film. Strange, but it could be explained.

She was so beautiful. So perfect. The only one who wasn't being tortured. She was simply there in her cage, for him to enjoy. He hadn't touched her yet. He couldn't. He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve to be able to look on her...no! Stop this! You're the master, he told himself. She may be the most beautiful human alive, but she is still just a human. Torture her. Rape her. Treat her like the others. Only then will you be strong enough. Only then...he entered her cage. She was sobbing in the corner.

"Why do you cry, human?" he asked. "You're not even being tortured."

"Not even being tortured!?" she said, disbelieving. "I have to watch the others suffer! I have to listen to their screams! That is the greatest torture you could inflict upon me!"

He hadn't thought of that. He was satisfied. She was suffering. He was growing stronger. Soon he'd enter her, as he had all the others. But not today.

He exited the box. He felt like some crisps.
 
He had enjoyed the crisps. He wanted to go back into his box again. Perhaps he'd rape the actress now. Rape her hard. Suddenly, he felt something. Something old and familiar. Guilt? He remembered guilt. He'd felt it when the thoughts first came to him. But he'd put it aside. This was what he must do. It was his destiny. It is still his destiny. He was made for this. That's why he has the power.

But couldn't he use the power for good, he found himself asking? Where did that question come from? It was the actress, he told himself. So beautiful. So pure. When he looked at her he thought anything was possible. But it's not. He's evil. He IS evil. And yet...he has the power. Couldn't he try to be good? He'd never tried. He entered the box and went straight to the actress.

"Can I be good?" he asked, almost pleading.

"Listen to the screams. How can you ask that question while they still scream?" she said.

"I'm make a new room!" he said.

And he did. A fantasy room where there would be no screams. Where the world would be as it ought to be, before the evil thoughts had come to him. He entered the new room. There were trees. There were girls but they weren't in pain. They laughed, they smiled they danced. Everyone was happy! And he was happiest of all, as his beautiful little slaves danced around him. As they undressed for him...NO! This wasn't real. This would never be real. Women couldn't be made to be this way, to be right. They were wrong. He had to take their power to make them right. He had to take the actress's power. He left the fantasy room and went back to her cell.

"It would never work," he said, simply.

"You dind't even try you bastard!" she spat, suddnely emotional. He was taken aback. Why was she so upset. He had tried! "No you didn't!" she said, as if reading his thoughts. "You didn't stop the torture, you just removed yourself from it. The screams were still there, you just couldn't hear them."

"Well I'm getting my power from your screams," he said, reasonably. "I need them to continue while I'm trying out fantasy sceanarios. Oh, by the way, I'm going to rape you now."

And like that she was in chains, completely immobile. He moved over her. He could feel her power already moving into him...and then a voice. What was that!? He was out of the box in a flash.

"I can get you a job with your uncle Ben, starting next week," it was his dad! "Okay? You have to do something, son. You can't just sit in your room forever."

"Umm, okay," he managed to reply. How had he been able to hear his dad's voice even in the box? It was a different reality! His reality! And yet he wasn't even safe there. A week!? That was all he had left before he was forced into employment? No, he couldn't let it happen. He had to kill himself. He'd thought of it before. When he'd first realised he was evil, after the thoughts of guilt, he'd thought of removing himself from the world, to make it a better place. That wasn't why he was thinking of doing it now. He just wanted peace. He couldn't find it in his box. Maybe he could find it in death. He had an idea.

He would set the box on fire and then enter it. That was how he would die.
 
Print these out and post them through the letter boxes of all your neighbours in the dead of night.
 
Six days had went by since he'd formulated his plan. He hadn't entered the box since. He knew that the next time he did so would be the day that he died. He didn't want to die. Reality was wrong. He couldn't live in it. He couldn't even live in his box. His dad had forced him to get a job which he started tomorrow. There was no possible way in which he could ever cope with life. But he didn't want to die.

He flicked his lighter on and off, looking at the box. It would burn so easily. They'd all die, all the girls. Perhaps he should just burn them and forget about them. Live a normal life. NO! He wasn't meant for a nomal life. And he coudln't let them die, could he? Perhaps he could. He found that he didn't care about them as individuals anymore. Not even the actress. They were objects. Nothing more.

He looked out his window and saw a girl. She was young. He didn't know how young exactly but the school uniform was a good clue that she couldn't be older than 18. She looked much younger, if he was being honest with himself. Why hadn't he added her to the box yet? He stared at her...then she was gone from the street. She was in his box now, trapped. He smiled and entered the box. He raped her. Repeatedly. It was a simple, standard rape, the kind he'd done a million times before. He didn't enjoy it. Had he ever enjoyed it? Yes, at first. When it was new, when it was dangerous. But now? It was routine. It was a chore. He went to the fantasy room.

He made himself a beautiful, wonderful, shiny lie in the fantasy room. He was working and he was good at it! He was getting on with his co-workers, he was happy. He had a lovely normal girlfriend who cooked for him and they enjoyed nice, normal consentual sex. He couldn't help but laugh. Even if he could have these things he wouldn't want them. Not now. He was too far gone.

He went to see the actress. He still didn't want to rape her, but now it was only because he had no desire to ever rape anyone again. He needed to do something bigger. He stared at her for a long time until finally she broke the silence.

"You don't belong in the human race!" she spat. "You're not human!"

That was it. She had made it all clear to him, again. He thanked her. He knew that he had to do. It wasn't HIM that was wrong, it was everyone else! The entire human race, of which he was not a part. He knew again what he had to do.

He would put everyone in the world into his box, everyone except him. And then he would burn it. He'd kill everyone else in the entire world. Then he'd be happy again.
 
IT WASN'T WORKING!

He'd been up all night trying to shift the entire population of the world into his box, but had had no success. They just weren't moving. Why not? Were there too many of them? Was it because, deep down, he didn't want to kill them all, he just wanted to be normal like they were? No, that was stupid. It was because there's too many of them. He tried shifting them one at a time, then realised how long that would take. Frustrated, he visited the actress again.

"I'm going to kill everyone," he said, calmly. "I'm going to kill everyone and then the world will be mine."

She didn't speak. Disappointed, he went to the Fantasy Room.

"Why can't I do it?" he asked no one in particular. "Why can't I move them?" That was when the owl came to him. Had he made the owl with his mind?

"You know the answer, it is inside you, as I am," said the owl. Right, he had made the owl with his mind, of course! Sometimes he forgot his own abilities. Sometimes he got confused and his reality seemed to contradict itself. But the owl would make everything clear.

"What do I have to do!?" The owl smiled. Which looked strange.

"You know what you have to do. The one thing you haven't done before. You need her power." And it all became clear to him. It was so simple! It almost felt too good to be true. Was he really going to do it? He felt nervous. He even felt guilty again. Killing everyone in the world, it was wrong, it was evil! But it was his destiny. Yes, he would go through with it.

The fantasy room disappeared in an instant. He was back in the actress's cell. Without saying a word, without a moment's hesitation, he finally raped her. And when he was done, he murdered her.

"I have the power," he said, trying not to sound like He-Man. He shifted the entire world into his box and left it. It was so easy. He was finally there. He had power over all of reality, all of creation! He set the box on fire gleefully and listened to the screams the screams of the entire world!

"Time for work, son!" It was his dad!? Speaking from the box!? No, he was...coming into his bedroom. What the fuck! HOW!? He killed him! He killed them all! He pushed his dad backwards.

"You're dead!"

"WHat are you talking about...and what's that burning!? What have you set fire to!? Have you been doing drugs...come back!"

He ran outside. Surely there was a mistake, surely...people! People on the street! People everywhere! They were supposed to be dead, all of them. How could this be!? And there, looking at him strangely, was the girl he'd recently moved into the box and raped the shit out of, the one he'd been watching on the street. Alive and well. A duplicate? He didn't make one. Did he? He couldn't remember making one for the actress even...or all the other famous women he'd had in his box. But he must have! He must have! He wasn't crazy! NOT CRAZY!

"YOU'RE ALL DEAD! I BURNED YOU ALL! BURNED YOU FUCKING ALL!" he grabbed the girl and shook her violently. She was struggling, crying, scracthing at his face. BITCH! RAPE HER HERE ON THE STREET. But he never got the chance. Someone had struck him over the head. He looked up just before everything went black to see that it was the girl's father. His own farther was running over, crying. And then...nothing.

SIX MONTHS LATER

He was doing better, the doctors said. No more violent outbursts. No more disgusting sexual threats at the female staff. He was docile. He'd be able to go home eventually. Not yet. But eventually. Of course, he wouldn't be going home. He wouldn't really be going anywhere.

He was still in the box.

It had taken him a long time to figure it out. The therapists had almost got him believing that the box and all its contents had just been a sick masturbation fantasy he'd grown obsessed with. But then he remebered something. The fantasy room. Late one night he'd looked out the window and saw an owl. Its head was facing the other direction, away from him, but he could tell that it was smiling. Of course! He had been in the fantasy room all along. He'd raped the actress in the fantasy room and her power had never passed into him. He'd trapped himself there, that's what it was. He thought he was ready to kill everyone. But he wasn't. He had trapped himself in the fantasy room for six months to save the rest of the world.

That had been nice of him. But it had to end. He would leave the fantasy room. It was, after all, just a construct of his mind. He could find a way out. A way back to the cell where he'd raped the actress, take her power and end the lives of every human being on the planet. Oh, he was ready now. He wanted them all dead, he was sure of it. Sure of his purpose. He had been before, but he was now. HE WAS! He would get out. He would escape. He just needed a distraction.

Maybe another fire.
 
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