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The Erotic Adventures of WankMaster Teapot

Chapter I: The Capture of Shinji Ikari

Subchapter I: The Stench

It hit him like a punch to the chest. Wrenching and twisting the gut until the victim no longer realized any of his other senses. The horrible smell was what one Shinji Ikari awoke to. Indeed the soft waves of red LCL relentlessly crashed upon the beach; inching closer to his feet. White sand was hard packed and cold under his sore body. Yet none of these sensations mattered at first. It was only the stench radiating from the sea of LCL that could awake Shinji from his terminal slumber, pulling him unwillingly from his world of shelter and unity. It was the smell of rotting blood, the odor of death and slaughter. It was the aftermath of the third impact. The smell called to him, to wake him, to prepare him for things to come.

Sound was the second sense to come back.

He heard…waves.

A gentle sloshing, the whisper of the waves. A simple back and forth whooshing of water.

Back and forth, back and forth, the water gently stroking the sand, almost lovingly. Shinji simply laid there listening to the waves slowly crash upon the beach in their steady rhythm.

Slosh…Slosh…Slosh.

Again and again, the soothing noise slowly pulled him closer and closer to consciousness

Slosh…Slosh…Slosh.

And there was sand, the wet sand that he laid on. So heavy and dense that his weight hardly made an impression. Yes, he could feel the sand now with his fingertips. He could feel his fingertips, resting gently against the grit. Shinji slowly became aware of the rest of his body, his arms, shoulders, neck. His arms were bare and the sand was cold. He could feel his back against the sand, his legs out stretched.

He hurt.

His muscles joined in a chorus of screaming as the pain came rushing back. Shinji could not move his limbs. He was only an idle spectator to his pain, unable to cradle his burning arm or contort his face in a grimace of suffering. Sharp knives gouged into his body as all the nerve endings came to life with a screech. The sharp pain began to fade to dull throbbing, subsiding slightly as its novelty wore off. Shinji now could feel something else pulsing, besides the pain. He could feel a pulsating life-giving force within him, subtle and soft; yet at the same time, powerful. It was his heart; he could feel its beating. The steady rhythm added to the sloshing of the waves. There was yet another rhythmic sound, offbeat with the others. The sounds of his own painful breathing filled the air.

His feeble mind could tell that something was different. He could no longer enjoy the billions of souls attached to his own. He was free, horribly and terrifyingly free; and he was empty. Oh how empty and sick he felt, as if he had wrenched up everything in his gut. That hunger. The hunger for a voice, a consciousness, anything so that he wouldn't be alone. Shinji's deprived body hungered for anything alive, anything with a beating heart. He was utterly and completely alone, and somehow he liked it.

The twisted feeling of emptiness left Shinji with an unbelievable sense of peace and balance. He enjoyed the fact his heart yearned vainly for companionship. He found closure in knowing things were now static, never to be changed by the decisions of others. It was the way things should be. He was alone. Finally all was right with the world.

Finally, Shinji Ikari opened his eyes.

He was not alone.

He did not need to see to realize he was not alone. In fact, Shinji Ikari could not see. Those freshly opened blue eyes conveyed nothing but darkness to the mind. And yet Shinji Ikari knew that something was very wrong here.

He was not alone.

How could that be? Even in its deprived and murky state, there was only one fact that Shinji's mind could comprehend. That slow mind expected to only feel a ravenous loneliness, a loneliness that can only come from being truly alone. And yet…

He was not alone!

He did not need any of his senses to know he was not alone; not sight, nor smell, nor touch. Shinji could feel the imbalance in the very depths of his empty bowls. His rapidly awakening psyche could only repeat a single thought.

He was not alone!

That single thought was branded upon his brain in red-hot characters. The flames of the scorching phrase breathed life into that frigid mind at an exponential rate. That electric lump of gray matter began to turn over again and again now at an alarming velocity.

He was not alone. He was not alone. He was not alone!

His vision was beginning to clear, but the fuzzy image didn't matter. The dark sky and shimmering stars meant nothing to his tortured mind. Not even the ghostly red streak that encircled the hemisphere could peak his interest. He could no longer deny the fact that he was not alone. Another living being was completely unacceptable, its existence went against everything that was expected, that was meant to be. Shinji understood that it was his mind that crafted this world, his dark fantasies that shaped this vast prison of hopelessness. Yet his mind had been crafted as well. His twisted mind had been crafted to deal with eternal loneliness, to shun the light and warmth of human compassion forever. Thus it could not accommodate this alien feeling that was pulsing through his body again and again, tearing his sanity apart.

He was not alone.

That fact was completely unacceptable. It could not exist. His mind could not accept its existence. The thought of not being alone was impossible. The thought of not being alone was excruciatingly painful, bringing Shinji Ikari a mental suffering that made all physical pain seem trivial. A single impossible fact was burning him alive.

Kill

There was no other solution. The anomaly had to be eliminated. Shinji bolted upright. There! A lone figure standing over the water, a blue haired girl. Standing on top of the water; impossible! Shinji looked for her again, the blood lust welling up from deep inside him. She was now gone.

Another, there had to be another! In his frantic scanning, Shinji finally heard the faint breaths coming from a red clothed figure lying beside him. The black pool of murderous rage splashed against his insides as it bubbled up to consume him even further. He had to kill the girl. Kill the living thing to unleash that blissful loneliness and serenity.

Kill

Shinji was beyond excited. The source of his torment was so close, so vulnerable; waiting for him to wrench the life from her. He straddled her tightly so she could not escape, and wrapped his hands around her throat. There was nothing quite as satisfying as feeling the pulsing veins under his ever tightening hands. He could feel the victim still breathing and increased his grip until the airflow became just a weak wheezing. His eyes were unfocused on the dying figure. That wonderful warm pulse began to fade under the extreme pressure. It was all about to end soon, yet the strain of companionship still raged as strong as ever in his mind.

Touch

Across his face came the caress. Suddenly his eyes came back into focus.

Asuka?

Her features haunted him. It was not her ghastly eye patch, nor her seemingly expressionless face that alarmed Shinji the most. It was the undeniable feeling that in the moment, staring into her eyes, Shinji was being exposed to something profound, something he would never be exposed to again, and Shinji knew he was missing it. There was a sense of incredible revelation in Asuka's features, though Shinji realized that he could never grasp it. It was discovering the greatest secret in the world, and forgetting it.

She was confused, perplexed, and wrestling with herself. She was paralyzed with internal motion as two unseen forces collided within her. It was in her eyes that a great struggle was being played out. One force, crushed and weakened, was engaged in hopeless valiant battle with an almost all-powerful will. The skirmish bound her body in place and froze her face in that epic state. That same epic state had bewitched Shinji, the same expression that he could not understand.

Just like that, it was all gone. The murderous rage simply evaporated, along with the smell, the sound, and the light of the world. Only the sensation of him crying over her body remained. Shinji was one confused bastard child.

The desperate sobbing announced to this flawed world that the central dogma had been changed. This was no longer Shinji's paradise. Its events and destiny were now out of his hands. He was no longer God. He was once again a hurt little boy.

Extra Scene:

Two and a half hours prior to the awakening of Shinji Ikari:

A lone red haired beauty walked along the beach, her long legs splashing in the surf. She had the appearance of a young girl, but her poise and stride exuded confidence and power. She was waiting for something. She had waited for this for a very long time. Her eyes were ceaselessly scanning the water, endlessly looking for any disturbance.
The shape of a boy emerged far in the distance. A knowing smile spread across her face and she ran off towards land.

An hour later she returned, wearing a red plug suit. An eye patch was slung over her face and a bandage now encased her arm. She carefully laid herself down next to the now beached boy.

And once again she waited.