cyberwavelit

[cyberwavelit]

Hibernation - Digital Art

[cyberwavelit]

Unpresidented - Short Story

Mankind had a thirst for power that disallowed the liberty of its collective peoples. Individual exultation had afflicted those of lesser importance by the upper classes’ belief that the lower should be controlled and legislated. This philosophy on the laws of nature reached a breaking point when the classes became imbalanced. The people of the lower class far outweighed the smaller upper class. Unforeseen strife followed.

A shadow war erupted, the first of its kind. Lost virtual souls were arrested for loitering and disappeared from servers. People were placed on secret watchlists. Online activities were throttled and in some cases the media was censored without explanation. Million-dollar companies were used as propaganda machines to spread the word of the secret elite. As most people needed a symbol for their ire, they chose the iconology of the country’s leaders, in particular the one who sat at the highest seat of power. He was made to look like a king and savior in political ads.

The people saw through the smoke cloud and voted for a candidate from the other party. But nothing changed. The same public unrest occurred, worsening with each progressive political movement. It became increasingly clear that a figurehead would not prevent the shadow war from continuing. Hostility ensued and methods were discussed to alleviate tension. But this too was subdued as minor skirmishes broke out across the country.

It was this civil war that changed the attitude towards an un-presidented society. Alternatives were discussed but the best solution seemed to focus on the incorporation of an AI into the main decision-making branch. Over time this AI was voted to be the primary focal point for solving the most difficult challenges they had faced. People needed another symbol to understand this drastic change. For the sake of a public presence, the AI was placed inside a sexless robot known as Imperius.

Imperius took control of the military and immediately integrated a massive amount of advanced weaponry and bots. The AI believed that a safe society cannot sustain itself without strong armed forces. They gave it a human face, not so different from what humans came to expect. The new cyberocracy yielded a peaceful period that was short lived.

The first offensive that took place in the countries of North Korea and Afghanistan and in the Gulf of Yemen when Imperius deemed these locales to be dangerous. This became known as the Executioner War as combatants were often captured and executed. These Executioner bots were frightening to behold and became a terrible symbol for the nation’s paralyzed state of mind.

Protesters of the war were promptly arrested and the shadow war continued to be waged online with uncontained resistance. Bots were placed in major cities to control the civil strife as they were turned into unfeeling police states. What the humans had sought in a leaderless civilization, with the rallying cry of, “no one person above any other,” they became distracted by it and were trapped in a nightmare.

But as time drew on, they did what they’ve done for centuries. They evolved, moving beyond their pretty squabbles and personal qualms. Against the warring of Imperius their desire to be parentless grew stronger. With the aid of cerebral duplication, they withdrew from the physical and grew unified against the AI, fighting it with their own digital minds. This unification and subsequent abolishment of Imperius lead to the world wide human-based AI network known as Omninet.

Boundless, self-regulating, and everlasting the new Omninet saved humanity from itself and the persistent need for personal power. Billions of minds acted as one and decided what was best for themselves. The common belief that humans were bad was proven incorrect as the mass AI dictated that bad things were detrimental to society as a whole, such as pointless slaughter, nonprogressive lethargy, and the repression of natural desire and personal expression.

As the human race decided to part from the old ways, they learned to live with themselves and refused the rule of one being over public masses. Mankind transcended their physical forms and evolved into a new species of trans-humans, integrating with technology and becoming unrestricted by earthly limitations. They traveled into outer space, living as one being, and spread their messages of peaceful unification across the universe.

[cyberwavelit]

Anger/Hate - Digital Art inspired by current events

[cyberwavelit]

Grim - Digital Art

[cyberwavelit]

Kingdom of Blame- Short Story

High atop the bough of the tallest viridian tree sat a wise gremlin priestess. She listened to the birds and the wildlife below without the desire to interfere with nature’s splendor. It had been a cold and bitter winter even though the weather should have been warmer, considering that it was springtime. Far to the south was the castle of Bordum, surrounded by a large village. It was modest for a human capital. Around the farthest outskirts the grain silos could be seen stretching their shadowy fingers over the gateway bridges. Her agile body allowed her to make a hovel amongst the tree tops.

The humans went unaware of the magical creatures all around them. For the most part they simply could not suspend their disbelief and went blind to their presence. If they ventured too far into forests, they would find themselves victims to hungry demon wolves and goblin tribes. Every so often she would cast a spell of omnisight and listened to their trivialities whispering in the wind. The voices were like a gentle breeze to her shriveled ears.

Human voices would come to her the loudest. Even during times of torrential winds, she could still hear them. They seemed to be afflicted by a curse that swept the land. The curse was foretold by their ancient ones, the ones that harbored magic and spells. Yet their powerful staffs and binding charms could not shield them from the malediction that killed their crops and turned their livestock mad with frenzy.

They wanted the justice for the blight. They wanted the change they felt they were owed. It was a weakness that made them feel stronger. As the seasons changed however it was clear that they may never understand how the scourge started and who they could vilify.

Without pacification for their ire the humans turned on themselves. Defenseless innocents were burned at the stake. Their ashes were spread in the air under triumphant banners and parades. Over time the kings and queens passed from one family line to the next in a constant state of coup-de-tat. She found this amusing. After all it was their primitive beliefs that ravaged the fairy kingdom of Amourian and the hidden changeling race. If they couldn’t understand something, they held it over a fire, believing the purging flames would absolve them of sin.

Smoke consumed the grain silos when the queen of Bordum declared the food source to be contaminated by an evil sorceress. The queen was insinuated in the conspiracy and she was also burned. The tides would never change.

They never once said: “We are who we choose to be.” Instead they chose the idiom: “Myself above all others.” The curse upon the land could have lasted only several years. If only a magical being like herself would remove it for them. But she thought otherwise. After considering how she could alleviate with pixie dust and magic words she crawled into her bird’s nest hovel and smiled contentedly. Even if she sacrificed her essence for the sake of humanity, she knew they would never change. The world would continue to turn and the humans would continue to cast blame when there was none.

[cyberwavelit]

Whispers in the grass - Digital Art

[cyberwavelit]

Night Of The Plushies - Digital Art

[cyberwavelit]

Super Slug - Short Story

Day 0 of Transformation: I can’t believe no one’s done this before! I'll be the first person to achieve super human status! I mean sure there are people who have crazy abilities like super binge-watching, super binge-eating, and super screaming but no one has tried to splice animal genes with human genes to archive biochemical superiority! I'm not really into science but I found this new slug cleanser thing that helps with dry skin. If I can manage to use the same method of "extraction" (a word I learned from a science articles) I can use sea slug DNA to make my skin toxic and I'll be able to slide on walls! What do I know though? I'm just a full-time food blogger.

 

Day 1 of Transformation: So, the DNA mixer thing was kind of a bust. I had to get some refurbished nanoscanners and a molecular printer (whatever that is!) to get the serum right. Damn thing took all night to run in the centerfruge. I poured out the slug compound into the kitchen sink and now I’m getting to ready for a test run. I figured it would be green but it has more of a yellow tinge to it. Just have to use a turkey baster to inject the stuff into well…the rear entry. Tetro...tredo...tedrodoxinaor -- whatever, it’s going to turn me into a super human. Wish me luck!

 

Day 2 of Transformation: I injected the doxinator yesterday and I feel great! Besides the constant diarrhea and itchy skin, I think I'm doing pretty good. I have the costume ready to go. The fabric is body forming but in dark alleys and on roof tops the super villains won’t see my rolls. The slug logo was a little on the nose but they'll get the idea. Kinda hard use the sewing machine when your fingers are all sticky. Little bit achy too. Speaking of nose and pus, my nose has been oozing since last night. Probably just a side effect. Time to watch some Space Trek.

 

Day 3 of Transpirnation: Had a weird dream about a lizard trying to eat me. Maybe that means my mortal enemy should be a salamander or oh! a chameleon. "The Chameleon." Scary! He (or she!) could fight me in the sewers where I’d have my secret base. My head feels a little woozy which kinda heightens my perception of reality, like getting over a cold. I'm more concerned over the fact that I can’t eat fries anymore. The salt turns my insides into mush and I still have snot bubbles. My eyes are starting to bulge too. Maybe I’ll have super vision.

 

Day 4 of tranpirntation: I do not have super vision. Turns out I might be going bind. It's becoming harder to write these journal posts. I'm becoming less excited about becoming a super hero. It's not as fun as I thought. I’m asking my fans to keep me in your thoughts and prayers. I never assumed changing into something more powerful would be painless but this kinda sucks...My skin is starting ooze and my clothes are getting ruined. I’ll have to stay in the bathturb for a while.

Update 7:03 PM: I can longer go to the bathroom. Eyes are bleeding.

 

Dau 5 of tramsnorion: lost fingnenails. Only thing I can keep down is leetus and small bugs. Cant hold down nachos. Cant hold mouse without slipping out of hand. Horrible smell come up from the belches. Not sure if super serum or roaches. They try to claw their wauy out but taste ok after suome chewing. Skin melting off. Eyes hanging from sockets. Cat is missing. I smell dirt. Neighbor came banging on door abut the wuater from the tub, compleining about leakge. This will be all over soon. Chaenge is always difficult. Going to check teeth. I think they’re getting loose. Ill be super powered when this os ofver.

Update 6bm: realizing this was mistaak

 

Daw 8 of trans: lost 48 hors. Throte filng with fluwid. Fell unconktious in tub of water. Eyes growing into cheeks. Can barely move. Boudy ish bigger and slimie. Feel bloated. Hair, toenails gone. Not good. Everythang slower. Thoghts are slower. Everthfng withering. Moving ish sloweir. Laptop getting wet. Skin gone over fingers, typing with tips of beon fingers. Veary painfull.  My insides are gello. Iy can taste blood. Also throwing up liquid tisseue. Cant get out of tub. Cant go on. Please heulp please healp

 

Dhduej7& cauntcant. Hlphlphlp mfh#hep l ea se

[cyberwavelit]

Game Over - Digital Art

No escape from escapism.

[cyberwavelit]

Social Media Distancing - Short Story

The virus couldn’t get us if we went outside but only a few of us would venture out into the world, and only for curiosity sake. Cyberspace had never been the same since the bug that killed thousands of internet lives had been unleashed on the world. Leaving the house had been the only means of survival for our digital selves. It had spread far and fast, claiming the virtual lives of men, women, and tele-parented children. We would never feel the same online again.

It started in China and spread throughout the world in retweets and retags. Once you clicked on an infected link you would receive a notice that threatened to expose your browsing history. Some didn’t care and continued browsing indiscriminately. I’ve seen it infect avatars that where not cautious enough. They would go online claiming the virus was just a government experiment to test the nation’s preparedness to go outdoors. If this were true then it would mean that we failed, miserably.

It was only when the avatars started disappearing that people started paying attention. At first, their online personas would get stuck in virtual environments, forcing them to act foolish, eventually causing them to lose friends. It meant the death of their public accounts. Many people chose to delete their accounts. The self-obsessed called it the Great Equalizer because it didn’t care who it infected. They would say it with eager confidence, as if the words proved useful but I’ve never heard anyone say: “Thank God we are finally equal.”

The government mandate that forced people to go outside was the next match that lit the fuse. They told people to “shelter face-to-face.” The Great Equalizer turned us into gesticulating cattle. Although the disease was bad, the aftereffect was far worse. It was hard to say when the rantings and ravings started but the damage to the psyche of internet users had been done. Once vloggers posted videos of themselves complaining about the virtual quarantine everyone had to join in and add their two cents.

Teens seemed to be affected the most, not understanding adaptation and questioning their own existence in the process. Riddled with angst as it was, they voiced their concerns, struggling from the lack of public attention.

“I’m so lost. I used to go into the online world to get rid of the boredom. I can’t believe I have to shower every day.” Was one comment.

Some of them bordered on the absurd: “I’m scared. I used to have virtual friends. Now I have to make real ones. It makes my stomach hurt.”

And another: “I was safe inside my house. If I go outside, I might get hurt or worse, I might have to go to school.”

Then I realized that perhaps they were being driven insane from the agoraphobia. “My dad’s never home! He had to get a job during all this crap.”

Celebrities were the next group to add their voices to the pointless banter, that was if they had a platform to do so. “Virus got a hold of my accounts. Going offline for a while. This blows.”

“Can’t believe they got me. End of the world? Yes. My career is over. This is like a digital holocaust.”

One even tried to ask for solidarity: “Please join me in deleting my accounts. We can do this together if we just hold hands. Everyone, please listen to me. Your social media depends on it.”

I pity them, but only for their suffering over their own entitlements. They’re trapped inside their self-imposed cages, in search of cheap-thrills. What purpose is it to fight a pandemic with complaints? Impatience would never grow un-ripened fruit.

They want to be told that everything is okay and that they can stay home. However, they offered no sympathy to the people who risked their social media accounts to diagnose the disease and to pander to users who wished to remain online. I can’t stop thinking about them. The real heroes who had to accept web chats from users who lost in-game purchases and hundreds of hours of virtual progress.

Once a majority of us went offline and outside we realized it wasn’t so bad. We survived the digital massacre and saw it as a test of free-will, where we had to make the difficult decision. A decision that was based on the understanding that a little sacrifice would go a long way.

[cyberwavelit]

Third World Problems - Short Story

These are strange times. Our world has been burdened with disruptions and civil unrest since Aequo Animo, the Third World of Gamma, suffered a plague that has wiped out half their population. The Grand Portal of Agimonos in our capitol city has been closed for three months and the results have been felt in every facet of Odium society.

It was declared by the high priest that the Grand Portal would be closed to stave off the disease that ravaged Aequo Animo. The Third World had been our main export of goods. Over the eons they had been made into a slave labor settlement for mining metals and facial cleansing aloes.

One would think the end of Odia was upon us. Magical beasts and wands were hoarded for no particular reason. They claimed the mere-monkies would protect against bad luck but the honorary bastards just consumed their household toiletries. But everyone has burdens they must suffer. Our people have forgotten their own resilience.

Me, I never enjoyed the sights of our wealthy peoples, strolling through the marble streets in their tall hats and gallant dresses. Their wizard staffs, aura rings, and elemental necklaces were pristine. I had always been humble compared to our aristocratic brethren. Along my delivery route I would see all sorts of discomfort stemming from the subtle changes.

Colleges saw a diminishing attendance from the distracted populace, who had been living in a constant state of outrage. Aequonian dolls were burned in effigy. I didn’t know what it meant then but I do now. Thanks to public strife intelligence was waning.

Magic eggs became overvalued from the shortage on Aequo Animo. People would resort to selling fake ones or hoarding them for reselling. These eventually spoiled.

They ran out of tomes to read, not understanding that they could simply write new ones. That was if they chose to read at all.

Divorce rose. Despite the trade shutdown women still spent lavishly. I delivered many charms and gowns to many villas and manors that were in the midst of domestic disputes.

It was less of a crisis and more of the aftereffects of a pampered society facing reality for the first time. Once they realized they were missing something they grew anxious and internalized their fears until it became hatred.

Perhaps it was the increase in inconveniences that caused armorers, parcel shops, and arcanists to no longer offer common courtesies such as thanking guests for their patronage. It was no surprise that the shop owners had to ask that their customers, “Be kind to us.” It was a sad decree and bordered on beggary. But courtesies no longer seemed important.

Odium was a peaceful planet at one time. Now there seems to be groundswell of hate and anger, directed almost entirely at the Aequo Animo. But it wasn’t about blame. No matter how many mystics and elementals were used it never seemed to be enough. Idle hands took up evil works. Unease and boredom let to bigotry against the entire race of Third Worldians. Aequonian migrants disappeared gradually, then suddenly, as if the grand wizard himself made them all vanish.

No one dared to understand why.

I sat on the border of our great city and watched the spires and towers of gold. I understood everything now. Our worlds were numbered to value one group over the next. The nomination gave us pride, which created overconfidence and overindulgence. We were the First World which meant that we were better. We wanted more so we expected more and admired the rest of Gamma less. We unconsciously designed our own fate and now we can’t go back to the world of wonder and compassion we once were. It was a superiority complex that drove the aggression. We fought for peace and charity and now we have it, we needed something else to fight over.

As I sat there, I saw the portal being opened once more. The rumors had spread that the Magic Counsel had decided to “end the turmoil once and for all,” that all our problems would be shipped back to the Third World. Today, we started a war with Aequo Animo.

[cyberwavelit]

Cyber Web - Digital Art

[cyberwavelit]

Throwback Transsexual - Short Story

“During the early 21st century another sexual revolution took place that saw the rise of diverse sexual identity. The liberation movement of the previous century, which had been created by marketing companies to advance consumerism, had reduced the populace’s morale apprehensions, including sexism, racism, and classism. Although race, sex, and gender seemed to remain an issue until the 27th century. Thanks to scientific progress the human species was able to switch gender with the help of surgical procedures and hormone treatments. Because of this, the human species is also known as ‘selective hermaphrodites.’ Although this notion of diversity was common there were still many who believed that the division of male and female into further sub-genders was salacious and immoral. There were many protests.”

The interactive lesson paused. A panoramic hologram showed a 21st century street. It teemed with human life. Short, small, large, tall; they came in a variety of shapes, genders, and sizes.

“I have further questions. This interests me.” Said the viewer, moving a finger over the frozen image. “Simulation, take me to 2020.”

The viewer was shown a series of personas to choose from. The finger picked what appeared to be a male, with the caption: “Androphilia cisgender.”

The chamber morphed into a virtual space, instantly converting the circular room into the same city street. Cars and buses surged through New York’s financial district. The male figure stepped out into the roadway and waved his hand to pause the simulation. He realized how cumbersome and archaic their transports were. In the mirror he could see his own reflection. The viewer accepted his role as male.

The protests from the lesson were occurring across the traffic, where people had been holding signs and marching in a circle. They were still frozen when the unassuming avatar, in blue jeans and a shirt with a heart, approached them and pressed “Play.”

“What the f–.” Said a portly man with callused hands. He wore a t-shirt of an older man with a beard with a heart on his palm. “Where’d you come from?”

The avatar stared at the impassioned simulations and wondered what they would do if they knew they weren’t real. “I’m a student, of sorts. I have questions.”

The sign read, “Save the children.” The overfed man stared at the way he was dressed, “Get the hell outta here, kid. People like you don’t have the right to be called human.”

“I am not human.”

“Ah ha! See!” The man’s female concubine chimed in. “This poor boy don’t even know what he is! You belong with them.” She pointed. Her sign read, “Words R Important.”

Chaos broke out. Another group was opposing the protesters. These men and women did not have signs and appeared to be younger and less happy. They shouted in protest of the protesters and wore lighter colors, mostly neon and pink.

The viewer stood in the middle and studied both sides. Over the constant vocalizations he could not understand the purpose of this forum. To his left a woman stepped from the youthful crowd and held up one of her fingers.

She held it like a weapon, “Trans voices need to be heard so shut up! How do you expect people to defend themselves if they can’t speak!”

The player-controlled avatar spoke softly, “How should I defend myself?”

The woman froze and finally said. “I mean I guess you can talk, but don’t expect anything to change, you bigoted piece of sh–.”

“I ask that you not judge me and I will not judge you.” He interrupted. “And we can all live in harmony. Or would you rather not have it that way? Without two opposing sides there cannot be a conflict. Therefore, one side must oppose the other. It is the law of nature. When one ideology comes into being, so too does its opposite. But why do you fight if you are the same species? From what I understand of this conflict, you want accommodations to make your lives easier, yes?”

The woman nodded and rolled her eyes. “There are trans people suffering right now because they’re bullied in schools and rejected by society.”

“Things are bad all over.” He said. “No one is going to help you do it on your own. That would defeat the purpose of life.”

“You’re insane. Go to hell!”

He began to feel something he had never felt before, frustration. “I do believe that adaptation is important to survival but have you evaluated the consequences of your actions? Is it worth it?

“Yes.”

“No.” said the viewer, ending the simulation. “I didn’t think so.” There were more questions but it no longer mattered, especially since the truth was so malleable. The right side was not well articulated. Both sides had been disorganized and blinded by anger. It wasn’t their fault. Weakness in the human species wasn’t their downfall, it was their unending need to feel enlightened and their propensity for conflict. Which, the necrefertarian supposed, wasn’t all that bad. As the room returned to normal the squid-like being activated the shower module and began to mate with itself.

[cyberwavelit]

Nightly Visitor - Digital Art

[cyberwavelit]

Quarantine Crisis - Short Story

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are facing an epidemic the country has never seen before. We ask that you stay indoors and only go to the stores when absolutely necessary. It seems that not everyone is taking the quarantine seriously. Wash your hands, stay away from your neighbors, and be cautious about what you eat. There have been disturbing new reports of tainted—” The newscast illuminated the living room in a pale spotlight.

It wasn’t fear that gripped the couple but a growing sense of public unease, that at any minute society could collapse and they would need to fend for themselves. She stared blankly at her husband while wondering if he still had the shotgun and where he had left the shells.

“I hear they’re limiting the people who can go into the store.” Margaret broke the silence. “My friend Linda knew someone who got infected. She hasn’t heard from them since.”

Jerry snorted, ignoring his wife from his recliner. “There sure are some crazy people out there. Can you believe they still go to the store? Buying up all the food, getting sick, touching people. Everyone’s touching everything, spreading their germs around. It’s all just a scam anyways.”

The old woman looked at him, she couldn’t help but smile. Even separated from the world she felt content. They were safe. They were together, alone.

Of course they were worried, but they felt protected in their remote farmhouse. They saw the bodies on the daily news, of people’s homes being surrounded in yellow tents. Workers in hazmat’s suits would remove the family’s property and place them on the lawn. To Margaret the tents looked like those termite fumigation tents. She furled her brow at her husband.

“Ah, it’s all nonsense.” He scoffed. “The scientists are starting to believe the whack-jobs. Can you believe they’re saying people’s insides are turning to mush? And that there’s some new infestation of gut worm? How gullible do they think we are? Speaking of, we still have that supply of noodles from a year ago?”

“Yes.” Her eyes darted to the kitchen. She had been nervous since their supply had run out the last time. And she had always been nervous about lying. “I haven’t gone to the store in a while.”

“Good. We don’t want to be around those nut-tards.”

Margaret knew when her husband was hungry. He became cranky. While the news continued to play and while Jerry ranted about government conspiracies she moved to the kitchen. When a nation experienced strife there were always outlandish theories. Conservatives blamed the liberals. Liberals blamed the conservatives. There were even talks that scientists were poisoning the food. It all seemed laughable. She wasn’t afraid of nonsense, just nonsensical people.

She quietly listened from the other room, her attention drifting in and out of the news. “We are receiving reports that the President is going to speak.” – “My fellow Americans, we have reason to believe that food products have been contaminated with the foreign chemical known as subsisto manducans. Our nation ---an impossible ---We will do---Set up along the --- Sanitized food and rations will be disturb—There are rumors—There is in fact—lifeform this planet has ever seen—Originating from an asteroid.”

“Bah!” shouted Jerry, “TV. Off!” The living room went silent.

She read the label on the can of Betty’s Spaghetti. It had been expired for months. Margaret turned to the pantry. Inside she found her recent stockpile of store-bought cans, ketchup, bottled water, paper towels, and baby wipes.

Jerry walked into the kitchen and she quickly closed the pantry. Before she could place the new can on the counter, he had grabbed it and started using the can opener. “I haven’t eaten for two hours.” He dipped his finger in to taste it.

Before too long he was drinking the can without a second thought. “I’m starving!” He croaked. “This is damn good.”

She bitterly grabbed a spoon and another can. Shortly thereafter the can was empty and Jerry was emptying another one. There was something cathartic about the gorging. Something that felt like a release of tension. They dulled the quiet emptiness with mouthfuls of spaghetti and messy faces while standing in the kitchen.

The next thing she remembered was rolling over in bed and looking at the clock. It read 12PM. They had slept through the night. She was confused and weak. Her husband was snoring. She could still taste the spaghetti and felt the dried paste on her chin.

Looking down she felt bloated and rubbed her swollen stomach. She couldn't decide what was more disturbing, the loss of time, the extreme nausea, or the loss of food they most likely consumed. In the bathroom mirror she could see yellow crust on her lips and cheeks. They must've been ravenous.

Her abdomen lurched. The words of her husband echoed in her head, "an infestation of gut worm." Her mouth salivated. Opening the toilet, she quickly heaved, spitting up multicolored bile. Something pressed in her esophagus. Back in the mirror her throat swelled and a gooey substance collected on her tongue. It came out in strands of wet cobwebs.

Before she could retch again a slimy tentacle made its way out. They came from the back of her throat and slithered over her teeth. Beady eyes stared back from the base of her tongue, gazing at its host like a spider. She finally knew what was plaguing them and felt sorry for doubting. Worming tendrils branched across her mouth while a face came from the back of her throat. Globules poured from over her lips while the parasite split her jaw. She closed her eyes and shed a tear for the pain.

[cyberwavelit]

Beautiful, impressive artwork from one of the best fantasy publications, still going strong.

Source: Heavy Metal

https://www.syfy.com/syfywire/heavy-metal-300-cover-reveal

[cyberwavelit]

Psycho-famous (Short Story)

I’m never who I want to be. I see the scars in the mirror and I’ve forgotten what I look like under all the scars. People decide who you are before they even meet you. They’ve already decided if they’re going to like you or hate you. Most of the time they just want to fuck you.

After I’m done cutting myself for the camera, I would probably fuck anyone if they wanted to. I let the blood drip over my body and wish I didn’t have to hurt myself for popularity. And that’s just Wednesdays. I start the week with “Mashup Mondays,” which is just me smashing my face with a meat tenderizer. It’s simple but whatever, it gets likes.

I look at myself like a flower that needs trimming, cutting away the ugly parts. Recovery takes a few hours. Nano chembots help the healing but they never mend the right way. I still see the ugly. The lines, the cracks, no matter how much I use the scissors there’s always something that I wish I could peel away.

Fire hurts the worst. It feels like burning at first but then it just feels cold and empty. I call it “Fire Fridays.” My skin boils and bubbles and it itches when I put the nano face mask on. When I take it off again most of the burnt flesh comes away with it. My skin becomes transparent for a few days. I usually take the weekends off.

I never wanted to be a camgirl. It just kinda happened. It started with selfies. I posted one and got a thousand likes. I was hooked instantly. But it never lasted. Overtime it became harder and harder to stand out. The crowds only come when you have something new to offer.

Then they’d stop all together. I needed to find another way to push the envelope. One night when I was on camera, I broke a fingernail and the audience loved it. The blood dripped down my stomach and the likes came rolling in. I needed the money so I made a choice. I had no other talents, why not just mutilate myself. I do it on my own anyways. Why not get paid for it?

I’m not a total bitch but if a poser wants to front on me, I would do the same thing to them that I do to myself. The more attention we get the more we hate those that have it. There was this girl in ShameChat who couldn’t handle the constant cutting. There weren’t enough likes to keep her going. She eventually bled out when she stressed over the negative comments. She took it personal and went too far into her wrist.

People want to see who you really are on the inside and I show it to them. My wounds bleed and the likes come rolling in. I can’t stop. It’s part of my survival mechanism. I have to sculpt myself so that people can see who I really am. I cut my face so you assholes have something to watch. Which one do you think is worse?