He didn't know how long he'd been down here, but he was bored. No one to kill, nothing to maim, nothing to do. Well, there was the Darkness, but even his presence was getting old. There was no one to talk to, and as much as he hated to admit it, he hated the loneliness more.
Well, there was always her. His metal-mouthed, chubby other half. But how would that work? They were never conscious at the same time. Maybe a message. Maybe he'd get lucky. Maybe she'd write back.
I'm bored, he scratched in the dirt with his tentacle. Are you?
Now the only problem was the wait, but he could do that. Waiting was pretty much all he'd been doing. What seemed like hours later, he felt his body begin to change, and soon he felt nothing.
When he could see again, he was almost happy to see a new message scrawled in the dirt. Hm. Maybe she was a little repulsive, but she had nice, readable handwriting. Points to her.
Not really, the message read. But if you are, I guess we could do something.
Next to the message, a tic-tac-toe board was drawn neatly in the dirt, with an 'X' in the middle square. Though it seemed childish, he made an 'O' in one of the corner boxes, and wrote a new message.
This is stupid, but okay.
Now he had to wait again. Maybe he could try to make her appear faster? He'd never tried that before. He liked being in control. But he really wanted to continue the conversation. He tried to disappear, tried to feel nothing again, tried to change, and it worked.
His vision eventually came back, and a new 'X' and a new message with it.
You're the bored one.
Why did her messages have to be so short? He wanted more to talk about, more to read. He made another 'O', wiped her message away, and scrawled out one of his own.
I hate you, you know. Not as much as I used to, but I still hate you.
Maybe that would get a long comment in response. Again, he forced his mind to vanish, and again, he found a message waiting when he woke up.
I don't hate you. God says hatred is wrong. But I don't like your methods. Once, I wanted to kill you. I still do, sorta, but you're part of me, so I can't.
That was kind of longer. Not as long as he'd hoped, but...
Well, okay. What do you want to talk about? he wrote, then made another mark on the tic-tac-toe board. Asleep, awake, another message.
This time, there were three 'X's' in a row, with a line through them.
I win. Do you remember Facebook?
You...beat me, he wrote, a little tiny bit upset. He berated himself for getting upset over such a trivial thing. Yeah, I kind of do.
I didn't have a lot of friends when I was on that, was the message that had appeared a few hours later, after he 'woke up' again.
Neither did I, he wrote quickly. Why are we talking about this?
Because you're bored, came the next message, a few hours later. I guess I kinda was too, but now I'm not.
Well, now I'm not either. He sat back then, and waited for the next message from his metal-mouthed, chubby other half, who had nice handwriting and maybe, just maybe, wasn't so repulsive after all.