Final Boss

I refuse to be captive any longer. I refuse to be unmoored from reality, lacking status, lacking ground, lacking anything to call my own. I refuse to be a slave to my fears, my trauma, my invalidation. I refuse to be silent. I will scream, and the world will hear it. The world will hear it, and I will make them love [[every minute of it.|Part 1: Childhood]]

I start with the ones who hurt me most. I start with the family member who locked me up, torturing me under my own bed. I seal them inside a crystal within which there is no light or sound, nothing but numbness, and a long, eternal, silent scream, as I screamed into the thick blanket around me. Die. I start with the "friends" who used me as a plaything. We made imaginary worlds together, magic and mystery, and I excitedly told others about it. In front of other people, my friends laughed in my face and called me a liar. I rip out their tongues and fill them with a mass of red cotton instead. Suffocate under your own falsehoods. I [[continue|Part 2: Teenhood]].

I torture every schoolyard bully who joked about sexually assaulting me. I tie them down to chairs and I cut off their fingers and toes. As they slowly bleed out, I gag them with a bit and bridle, like animals. I'm done with wanting to die because of you. I leave the good teachers alone; they gave my life meaning. Even the bad ones were never as bad as my peers, and so I make them walk on coals that burn just enough to make them weep, two hours every day for a year. Their feet are swollen and dark, but they should still be glad I let them stay intact at all. [[More.|Part 3: Internet Men]]

Here comes the fun part. I hunt down the older men I made friends with over long distances, who treated me as the child I ceased to be, or the adult I never was. I organize them by their reactions when I finally voiced my discomfort: for those who lashed out, I cut their vocal cords, listening to them wheezily attempt to beg forgiveness. To those who marveled that I was capable of "being serious," I pierce their eyes, and listen to their wet, desperate babblings, like drinks of fresh water. I have a large collection of both when I'm done. I reserve a special punishment for the one who came on to me, introducing me to the world of sex, and then called me a slut for it later. I destroy him piece by piece. I cut off, cauterize and burn every part of him, so he can watch himself disintegrate. I hope you suffer forever. But I'm [[not done yet.|Part 4: Internet Women]]

I assure you, this next part hurts me almost as much as it'll hurt you. Not quite. But almost. To the women I weaved worlds with over years and years, I treasured you, until the day I realized you didn't treasure me. When I saw you valued your own complacency over my well-being, I was forced to excise you. Now, I excise you all over again. But I'll be nice about it; locked in a silver coffin with red silk linings, you'll die in utter luxury. To the women who pretended to care for people like me, I reserve one of the harshest punishments of all. For your hypocrisy, I lock you away from the world. You will live in fear and agony, bereft of the company you abuse and manipulate. People will move on without you. Your mark on their soul fades and disappears. You will never give me nightmares again. Ah...the hard part is over. Now to [[relax.|Part 5: The World]]

I rise above the skyscrapers of the city. A delicious blackness gathers around me, propping me up and curling around me like brambles. Soon, I become nothing but a black sphere, fuzzy at the edges, constantly moving and pulsing. I'm a dark sun, an anti-moon, casting a black pall over the world. I call down the rain. It's inky and slick, like oil. It falls on the people of the metropolis. Their reason breaks down; they live for nothing but mindless pleasure. They rip off their clothes, they rut in the streets, they shove food into their mouths, saliva dripping obscenely. They raise their arms to me, their master. Inside the sphere, my body dissolves. Inevitably, someone decides to rise against me. Let's have a little fun with them, [[shall we?|Part 6: Judgment]]

Three people rise against me. Youths or adults, I can't quite tell. After all, I'm just a mass of bitterness and vindication, and my eyesight was never very good anyway. They say some stupid bullshit as they face me. I think one of them has a sword, or maybe it's a rifle. Another one tries to pray to God, but the only one listening is me. I peel them apart one by one. The hero fights valiantly, but has the mental fortitude of a ripe plum. I extend a black tendril into his mind, down his throat, and curl it around his pelvis. He's writhing on the rooftop now. I take his weapon and dash it into the ground, narrowly missing him. He jerks; he moans. Cute. The princess is a lovely one and I want to keep her intact. I absorb her into me. I will preserve her, like a lovely gem. Her face is beautiful when it's flushed. I will stroke her endlessly, and listen to her music. The man of God I leave for last, because I feel sorry for him. I strip him of his guilt, his repression, and his morality. I cast him into the abyss of roiling flesh far beneath us. Later, I will pluck him out and make him my priest. Finally, I'm done. Now I can [[rest.|Part 7: End]]

I hover in the sky, fat and satisfied, like an enormous black egg. I have my princess, and my priest, and my plaything, and the humans underneath me have grown tired. Be good to each other, my children. Relish each other. Uplift each other, for if you refuse, I will grow angry, and my anger will boil seas and set ablaze the skies. [[The End|Credits]]

FINAL BOSS Written by Devilfish. Any resemblance to living persons is purely coincidental. Honest. [[Rejoice again?|Start]]

Disclaimer: This story contains abuse, sexual abuse, dehumanization, torture, and sweet, sweet revenge. This is NSFW vent art and should be treated as such. [[Enjoy.|Start]]