Who Do You Think You Are?

I'm sick of all of this crap. People think I'm suicidal because I write these stories, because I hate my current situations, and because I listen to "emo music". Who the fuck are you to judge me?! The ideas that flow through my head are inspired by things that are going on in real life, whether you make the connections or not. If you actually read my work instead of looking for some "hidden meaning" that might show that I'm depressed or suicidal, then you might actually like what you read. So fuck you guys, I'm brought down daily by people who call themselves my friends, I don't need to come home and get a phone call asking me if I've tried killing myself lately, from a family member too. You're all Drones. Do you even come up with these ideas yourselves, or is my defective parental unit giving you false information? If I tried killing myself, you'd all already know, because I'd leave a note on this blog! Oh wait, you don't actually read the works, you just skim them. So, for all of you that have encouraged my writing, thank you. To the one who told me that it's just a phase I'm going through, that I'm not actually going to succeed at this, GO FUCK YOURSELF. See, big capital letters mean that you would have noticed it because your skimming the post. So, to my aunts, uncles, mother, sister, grandfathers, grandmothers, "friends", and cousins, thank you for your encouragement. I'm done for the day. Go away. Don't come back unless your actually going to offer some CONSTRUCTIVE criticism, which would require you to read my work. So, thank you for your time, goodbye drones.

-THE VIRUS

The Forest

Suicide flashes through his mind again. Watching his life fall apart before his eyes. Hearing the mocking laughter of his so-called friends. Seven months planning. He prepared for this moment, but he couldn't take it. A year of working up the courage to try, took only 5 minutes to destroy. He runs, tears in his eyes. But he has no where to run to. Even the voice of reason in his head laughs at him now. Reminding him how he could never have succeeded anyway. Telling him he'd never be good enough to think about trying again. Eyes closed and sprinting through the forest, he slams headfirst into a tree. Throwing his bag to the ground and letting out a scream of hatred for himself, he sits with his back resting on the trunk of the tree. Tired, embarrassed, and emotionally bleeding, he wishes only for release from this damning world. He reaches into his bag and his hand comes out holding a wicked looking dagger. Not knowing or caring how it got there, he closes his eyes and prepares for the end. He pulls the dagger towards his chest, waiting for the piercing pain of death to claim him. But it never comes. Then he feels the hands pulling his wrists back. Even with his eyes closed he knew who it was. He could feel the guilt in those hands. The pain of knowing that she drove him to this. She separates the blade from his hands as he opens his eyes. Looking at him, she realizes that this is the first time she has truly looked at him. Seen past the pathetic exterior that hides the being within. She reaches for the dagger, looking him in the eyes. He knows what she's thinking, what she wants. He reaches into his bag once more and comes out with a blade identical to the first. Positioning the blades over each others hearts, they share a kiss. Their first, their last. Then they die. Their souls joining the many who have fallen victim to the magic of this cursed forest. It can grant you the love of your life, but only in the afterlife.

No, this story is not about anyone. Everybody that has read it has either said that they know who it's about, or they want to know. That's all for now Drones, later.
-The Virus

Kid's Mission (Log Jul.29 2020)

There were 4 of us selected for the mission. The others told us it was suicide, and they were right. It was me, Reaver, Tech, and Boomer. Each of us top in our class, if you could call them classes. On arrival to this school we were told to pick a name. Most kids picked something cool that didn't fit them at all, I picked something I was already going to be called. "Hey Kid, Reaver says to get you up and ready. It's time to meet The Boss.." Boomer shook me awake, pulling me out of a quite pleasant dream.
"Dammit Boomer! Now?" I ask, disappointment clear in my voice
"Yeah, now get out of bed and down to the control room. And don't mention where you're going to anyone. Reaver says we get booted if we blab." Boomer warned. Nobody turned down a mission around here. This place was like a prison during the school year, and an asylum during winter. They took us from our regular schools, brought us to this place, gave everyone a shot, and took away our names. The shots were supposed to enhance our performance "in the field", as we were told. We didn't know what they meant then, but we soon found out. Shit, forgot my gun, better go back and get it. Anyway, we found out that our names gave us certain.... Abilities. And that the shots were supposed to give us more. My name keeps me in my early 20's, when in reality, I've been here for 45 years.
"Kid! Pay attention to where you're going!" Reaver, here is a guy that you really don't want to fuck with. 7 feet tall, almost skeletal, and some say that he's died around a hundred times. But that doesn't stop me from messing with him.
"Sorry Skeleman, wouldn't want you to fall apart."
"Fuck off Kid, where do you think you're going anyway? Control room is the other way." Ah shit.
"Just headed down to the caffeteria to get some breakfast Reaver." I'll bet I did it again...
"Breakfast? You know what time it is boy? You slept all day, it's six at night!" I knew it! Ever since my third shot I've been sleeping a lot longer than usual. It's my fault though. For every mission you complete you get another shot. I've been here 45 years, and this is my third mission.
"Right.... Well then I guess I'm going to the control room. Later bonehead." Best get out of here before he realizes I just insulted him. It's a quick walk to the control room. But my mental log is almost full for today. If you're reading this Gold, I had better be dead motherfucker.
Kid out.

I'm not to happy with how this turned out. Oh well. Part 2 sometime later, when I feel like it.
-The Virus