|Subject:||The Certified Credstick|
|Date:||Sun, 11 Apr 1999 04:59:33 EDT|
I hate the dark, sitting here, waiting, seeing nothing, being nothing, doing
nothing. It's so goddamn boring. Nothing to do, but sit here, waiting,
waiting endlessly, in terminal darkness, always darkness. Why is she
ashamed of me? Why does she hide me like this. There is no need. I am
perfect, honed to precise measurements, with strength enough for anyone.
She should be proud of me, display me as the wondrous creation that I am.
But no, oh no. Instead I am locked away in the dark with only a pinpoint of
light for company. Such a small amount of light. Why? I was designed for
the light. Gleaming, highly polished, perfect. Yet here I am, with just
this flesh, and the small light, in darkness. I hate the dark.
Oh the ecstacy, the pleasure. She wants me. She wants me to come out where
all can see me. She wants me to do what I do best.
"Well hello there fucker! Wanna play with me?"
Flesh rending, bone shattering, the heart, oh the heart. Yes. Pumping,
blood spraying, warm, warm, wet, ecstacy. This is what I do... Wait. No,
put me back. i...
Again, again. Again. AAHHHHH!!!!.....
Death, pain I can feel it. Muscles contracting, nerves twitching. A lung.
Oh, the rush
No, not the darkness, Not again. No, I beg of you don't put me away in the
It's not my fault they died. That's what I do...
I HATE THE DARKNESS!!!
It'll be weeks before she uses me again. Damn, I hate being a spur.
Number Three: Datajack port