mirror of https://github.com/nealey/Horrors2
202 lines
7.1 KiB
TeX
202 lines
7.1 KiB
TeX
\chapauth{raptorred}
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\chapter{The Blood Game}
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Once there lived a maniacally demented hag. The kind of person
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whose cruelty made the blood run cold and the nose hairs stand on
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end. She made her dwelling in a blood-red house in suburbia, rife
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with infantile girlie crap like odiferous flowers. And those stupid
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little porcelain cats which weren't even real cats so they
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didn't have blood or guts or anything in them. Also it was
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1992.
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Fortunately for her, there was one element in her dark life that
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kept her existence from being as miserable a waste as a Slip
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`n' Slide in December: her perfect son, Luke. Luke was
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the age of a 12-year-old, with brown hair and searing obsidian eyes
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that were like pits down into his soul and his blood-filled
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innards. As sons go, Luke was practically the best. He sometimes
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took the trash out. And he hardly ever skipped school or beat up
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his stupid little sister until she cried and pooped her pants with
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grimy blossoms of baby turds which were sometimes reddish enough to
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pretend they were blood. But they weren't.
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Luke hardly ever asked for anything. At least not unless he really
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really super duper wanted it. And every quivering droplet of blood
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in his body boiled with agonizing desire for a Sega Genesis with
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Sonic the Hedgehog 2. He wanted it so bad he could puke. Puke until
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he shrieked with the euphoric laughter brought on by true
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happiness. A happiness he would never know. Not if his scheming
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mother had her way.
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``Honey, we can't afford it right now,''
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Luke's mother hissed from her blood-red lips. ``Maybe
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for Christmas.''
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But Luke was as clever as he was dashing. He could tell she
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didn't really care. She didn't even look up from the
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boring pieces of paper covering the kitchen table. She spent most
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of her time with those papyrus slips. Far more than she ever did
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with him. Luke had had enough.
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``You will pay for your cruelty,'' he announced. His
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veins bulged with brutal wrath. Blood wrath.
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``Lucas Theodore Bavarious! Go to your room!!'' If he
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could have, he would have vomited blood in her ugly face. If you
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could call the grotesque mask of suburbia a face. But she was on
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the other side of the kitchen so he'd probably just get it
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all over the floor or something. So he went to his room.
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In his room, Luke's eyes went dark, darker than the slick
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polish of a brand new 16-bit gaming machine that had his name on
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it. His heart contorted into something like a wad of coagulated
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bubble gum. Except it wasn't really that much like bubble
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gum, it was blacker and more pulsating and filled with the
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trembling sobs of jillions of powerless kids before him who had
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been denied justice. Also it probably would not have tasted like
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watermelons, which was Luke's favorite flavor. It would have
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tasted like blood.
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Somewhere in Mobius, Sonic the Hedgehog heard his cry.
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That night, Luke's mother went to bed. Nobody knew it, but
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she had a twisted secret that was vile and also murky. To get ready
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for bed, she took out a big secret pan of polish. The polish was
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made out of blood. She polished all of the skulls of little adopted
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boys who died because they were denied the latest in awesome gaming
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technology. She collected little boys like this for a long time in
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secret. It was because she was crazy and evil and liked breaking
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kids' spirits and tricking them into thinking she loved them.
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But Luke was smart. He already knew such a selfish blood creature
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couldn't be his real mom.
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But when she got into her bed, she heard a sound. It was a strange
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sound. It sounded like buttons dribbling blood, only spookier. Then
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she heard another, even stranger sound. It was the ghostly wail of
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a Super Spin Dash, which was this awesome new move that they just
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put in the new Sonic game that lets you go up hills and stuff and
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any mom that wasn't pure evil would understand why her kid
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had to have it. If a kid didn't have something like that, the
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blood that coursed through his slimy organs would start shaking.
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And the blood was so angry and so filled with sorrowful hate that
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it would also turn into acid. Then his guts would get bigger and
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bigger like water balloons, only water balloons filled with blood
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instead of water. Until they exploded, spewing blood and guts and
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acid everywhere. Then the whole room would melt and the mom's
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stupid floral print wallpaper would be ruined.
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That's what happened to those other boys.
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``Who's there?'' she asked, because she
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didn't know what a Super Spin Dash sounded like. If she were
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a good mom who bought her son stuff, she would know. Maybe it would
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have been enough to save her. She was so scared that a little bit
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of blood trickled out of her nose. It smelled like blood.
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Then something see-through flickered in the darkness. It was like a
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whip, but really it was a cord attached to a controller. The
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controller was attached to a terrifyingly awesome ghost Sega
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Genesis. The ghost of the console that Luke should have
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owned.
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Luke's mom tried to scream, but she was so scared that her
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blood started to gush into her throat. She gurgled on bloody vomit
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as two controllers (because Luke read in a magazine that Sonic 2
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would have {\em two player mode} and it'd be more awesome
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than sliced blood and that was one of like a million reasons he had
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to have it or he would implode into a pile of bloody guts) thrashed
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out of the darkness and wound themselves around her neck. Then one
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controller started whipping her in the head. She started crying
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because it hurt. Then the controller started hitting her harder.
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She cried bloody tears this time because it hurt even more. They
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mixed with the bloody puke to make a sort of martini that was two
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parts blood, one part tears, one part vomit. And all parts
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terror.
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Then she tried to tear the controller out of the socket. But the
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Sega Genesis is way too well made for a mere Mom to be able to
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destroy it. It laughed at her with ghost beeps as her skin started
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oozing blood for some reason that was really gross and scary. Then
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one controller wound itself around her feet. The other kept winding
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around her head. Her hair was full of blood and vomit and tears and
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spiders for some reason. The Sega Genesis pulled and pulled and
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pulled.
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``Luke,'' his mom gasped, a trickle of vomit seeping from
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her hypothalamus. It made a gooey line in the blood that was
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rupturing form her pores. ``I am so sorry.''
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But it was too late. The Sega Genesis pulled her whole body in
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half. Out of it fell a huge brick of hardened vomit-tear-blood that
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was shaped like the inside of her body. It was because she'd
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had so much vomit and blood and tears inside of her that it melted
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all of her guts and hardened into a shell. The shell was shaped
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exactly like a mean old mom. But the Sega Genesis wasn't
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finished.
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A bell tolled in the distance. The siren for the Red Cross's
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Bloodmobile whistled in the night. And the shell started shifting.
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When Luke went into his mom's room the next day, there was no
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sign of her. Instead was a perfect Sega Genesis. Made entirely from
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hard blood.
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From the depths of his mom's dark closet a voice echoed. A
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voice that sounded strangely like the Coolest Blue Dude with
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`tude around:
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{\em ``Kids need to be listened to and
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respected.''}
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Suddenly, Tails was sobbing.
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