#but the reality is normal was still the highest played shit but you gotta poke at your core base to look cool to the loud posers

[cainite-bite]

Here’s my gaming hot take;

im so saddened, and sick and tired of the fact that so many games are being flooded with chuds who want to turn everything competitive and don’t know how to fucking have fun

“I only play to climb ranks/win for a team/will scream insults if you aren’t in a clan” thats fine and dandy but you keep joining matches and staying in matches with like 9 other players who do not give a flying fuck and would rather not deal with your howler monkey ass screaming at the top of your lungs when you die once and decide to rage quit. Most people don’t care about your K-D or the fact you’re in some superficial and stupid clan full of other fragile egos. Learn to have fun instead of compensating for the fact you never bothered to practice anything else to become skilled in and can’t make your parents proud of you with literally anything (and thus screaming at others to take it out on them).

And I hate the fact that devs, sometimes much to their own detriment, are trying to cater to the merry little band of shrieking donkeys by gearing up all their shit for just that and trying to pretend the casual crowd isn’t there

#its like the whole difficulty setting thing with how many wanna launch into the whole we have NORMAL AND SUPER HARD AND LEGENDARY #and mock the people who chose normal still and pretend they're a niche batch of cry wimps #but the reality is normal was still the highest played shit but you gotta poke at your core base to look cool to the loud posers #hell even EA went over their one new games when the chuds were pretending the hardcore mode was more popular than super easy #and saying super easy should be taken off #and turned out there was 10% more playing super easy than the hardcore one which had a whopping small 4% of players #not that either should be removed but its the same concept of shit flinging to try and appear cool and awesome #and meanwhile they just eat their own foot #but anyways im sick and tired of just hearing these fucking asshole rambo wannabes #and if they all just died out and never had to hear one scream obscenities into the mic and verbally abuse others i would be happier #especially with the pathetic crowd who do this with co-op games of all things #like what was the point of shouting slurs and saying everyone ruined everything because you ran off on your own #and got killed by a boomer in l4d2 #if you take shit this seriously and verbally abuse people every time you play a game then you need to get the fuck off #if dying in a game once reduces you to punching a wall or breaking a controller/keyboard you need to get the fuck off #and you desperately need to learn better ways to cope with your life because normal people are NOT like this

[ibitesharkbubbles]

The Restless Worshippers

He didn't expect her to agree so readily. They had discussed taking the trip weeks before and she had seemed hesitant, cautious. Now, laying in bed, the subject came to mind again.

"I know it's a bit of a drive. And we'll definitely have to be careful once we get there," he said while watching her play with her hair. It was a habit she had when there was deep thinking going on. "Daytime is safer for going in... we should still bring a flashlight, just to be on the safe side, y'know?"

His careful planning was what tipped the balance of her indecision. She was the one who was rash, spontaneous; she loved having him around to pull into last minute adventures. "Flashlight and a picnic?"

"Let's grab something on the way there. The less we carry, the better -- we might have to run."

"Run? From who?" The thought of having to run made her less excited to go.

He moved close, kissed her cheek. "The place is abandoned, and the cops do patrol around from time to time. I'm sure we'll be okay as long as we're careful and quiet."

Feeling a little less nervous, she perked up. Nearly rocketing from the bed, she turned to him. "C'mon then, slow poke, no time to waste." Rummaging around for jeans and something with long sleeves, she didn't see him smiling, only heard the quiet laugh as he started to dress.

On the way, he told her more about their destination: "It's been abandoned for at least twenty years now. Place was shut down for all kinds of bad shit -- mistreatment, sexual abuse, keeping people well after they shoulda been released... patients just wandering around half-naked and drugged outta their minds. Sure, it was an insane asylum, but that's crazy."

He chuckled at his own joke while she rolled her eyes. "Why haven't they torn it down then? Place has gotta be falling apart."

"Some kinda governmental land dispute crap. Y'know, trying to figure out who's supposed to pay for demolition and all that. It was built back when they built shit to last, all brick and steel. You saw the pictures I pulled up on the internet... still standing tall and proud as the day it was finished."

"Yeah, it looks impressive in the pictures. I hope we don't get there and find it burned to the ground."

Slowing down to catch their exit, he glanced at her quickly. "If it's a bust, I'll take you shopping, okay? I already found an outlet mall not far from it." She wiggled in her seat; he knew how to plan ahead for every occasion.

Finding the parking lot that was within walking distance, they took a moment to gather their provisions. Fast food wasn't his first choice for breakfast, but she had insisted on getting some "eggy goodness" for energy. They began to make their way through the first patch of forest.

After a couple minutes, a path opened in front of them. He figured it was an old access road to the asylum and stopped to scan their surroundings. Across the way, there was a large wooden post with a sign on it. As they approached, he knew they were headed in the right direction:

"Sayermount Hospital

Private Property

No trespassing"

Underneath, scrawled in black marker: "Welcome to Hell" and an arrow pointing ahead.

She paused. "Hell? That sounds so inviting."

"Kids think their so dark and evil. Be prepared for lotsa dumb graffiti full of devil horns, bad grammar, and tons of penises."

"Wasn't sure if I wanted to go until you mentioned penises," she quipped, grabbing his hand and dragging him onwards.

It wasn't much further before they saw the tops of the main building peeking over the trees. Even from a distance they saw the overgrowth, greenery jutting off the roof and down the sides. The path wound around as if they had made it to avoid nature. A parking lot that had become a field appeared on their left; the concrete posts that marked the reserved spaces were tombstones of the past.

An intact gazebo, large enough to fit a wedding party, stood next to the lot. They decided to take a break, eat their food, and stare at what lay in front of them. Pictures did it no justice. As much as it seemed that the earth was attempting to reclaim the land stolen by man, man's testament to time fought back. Many of the windows were broken, and in a few spots the walls were open, but overall it was still in charge of the ground it stood on.

"Geez, will ya look at that," she pointed up at the edge of the highest building. A tree was sticking out, careless of gravity. Someone had tied a rope onto one of the lowest branches, and what appeared to be a stuffed animal was dangling in the wind. "Fucking weirdos... 'Oooh, I'm sooo clever, this'll be freaking people out'." She waved her arms in mock excitement. "'I'm so cool'... Tuh, idiots."

They stuffed their trash into an over-flowing receptacle full of beer bottles and other fast food wrappers. "C'mon," he said, stepping down onto the broken pavement, "Let's find a way in."

There were signs of a makeshift path along the side of the main building: trampled grass, broken branches, and shifted debris marked the way inside. A fire door, rusted and bent, was pried away just enough to squeeze through. The only light was what crept through with them, so he took out the flashlight. In the darkness of the stairwell, above and below swallowed their sight.

Even with the beam of light, shadows loomed all around. The way up seemed promising but after the first landing was blocked with stone and file cabinets, they worked their way down. Smells of mildew and stale air were heavy, and she tired not to breathe through her nose.

At the bottom, they could see sunlight pushing past the remains of low windows. It looked like a service corridor, doors spaced out along the left side. They peered in the first one and were disappointed by the empty room. The next two were much the same, only filled with litter.

The third room held their attention. He thought it was the furnace room, but a lingering odor pushed the truth into him quickly: they'd found a crematorium. Its large metal door was wide open and a series of platforms were slid out. A previous visitor left a sneaker sitting on the edge, probably hoping to give someone the creeps.

It worked on her. "Okay... I'm ready to move on now." She could see another stairway at the end of the corridor, and felt the need to get up and out of the basement.

Going up this time was easier. There were tiny windows all the way up, and aside from discarded paper and more broken bottles, nothing was in their way. They looked through the doorway at the first landing, seeing patient quarters on both sides. They traversed up to the next floor; it was the same except for a collapsed inner wall at the far end. The next floor held more interest, as he could see the signs for the asylum's chapel.

"This way. Watch your step." In one of the forums he had read there were talks that the chapel was the only room untouched by vandals. He hoped it was true.

Pushing on the door, it budged slowly, trying to keep him out. "Gimme a hand, please?"

"Only because you said please," she laughed, putting her shoulder to the door next to him.

It relented to their combined efforts. He was not disappointed; she stood there, in awe of the scene. The pews were straight, evenly spaced, moldy bibles sitting in the pockets on the backs of each set. A beautiful stained glass window in the shape of the cross lit the pulpit in a cascade of rainbows. High above, two ornate chandeliers still hung, bulbs glimmering. The only signs that anyone had been in there were scuff marks and handprints in the decades old dust. It was truly a stunning sight.

He walked slowly, taking it all in. Normally talkative, she was swept into silence, trying to fumble with her phone to take photos of their find.

*click*

He spun on his heels and shouted, "NO! DON'T!"

Startled, she dropped her phone. "What the fuck is wrong with..." was all she got out before he ascended on her. He snatched her by the arms and pulled her close, spittle frothing in the corners of his angry mouth.

"Taking images in this holy place is a sin!" His voice tore at her ears. "Blasphemy in the house of the Lord is a sin! Do you understand?!?"

Terrified, she tried to pull away, but his grip was iron, his hands hot. Something passed over his face, a shadow in the light.

A whisper wormed into her brain: "Blasphemer... heretic... sinner..." It repeated over and over, wrapping around her consciousness. 'Yes,' she thought, 'I am a sinner.'

He started yelling, more gibberish than words. "Foul foul foul thing arghhhplease thy faaaaathrrr... lick cleeeeannnn their harrrrrrrts..." Voices welled up from the ceiling, from beneath the pews. More shadows stirred, enticed by the new intruders. She was weeping, pleading for mercy, tears blurring her sight as the shadows blurred reality.

A newer noise piped in -- her phone chimed, the alarm she had forgotten to cancel. The sound grabbed the faint bit of her memory, dragged her back to temporary sanity. She could see the whites of his eyes, the tendons in his neck taunt with the strain of his ramblings.

With a jerking motion, she broke free of his grasp. He was motionless except for his mouth, drooling and spitting out nonsense. In a panic, she ran from the room, sprinting faster than she could ever imagine. Halfway down the stairwell she paused for a second.

'I should go back and get him,' she briefly thought, but a loud scream from the hall above pushed her back to flight. Retracing their steps was simple, yet the darkness of the basement disoriented her. Everything was closing in, the sun shying away from assisting her exit. She fell once before making it to the next stairway. The wet walls were almost comforting beneath her hands as she carefully groped her way up and out. The final door was there, right in front of her, the world waiting for her return.

The hand that snatched her by the ankle tripped her forward. Instinctively she kicked, screamed. It let go and she scrambled for freedom.

By the time someone found her wandering in the parking lot, the sun was beginning to set. An hour later, with police and an ambulance arriving, it was dark outside. The red and blue lights swung through the night. An officer on duty that night told his wife, "I wish they'd tear that damned place down already... I'm getting tired of all these missing kids...

"Tear it down and salt the earth."

#short story #amatuer writing