Hello there, reader. Yes, you. Let me introduce myself. My name is Franklin. I agree, it's a pretty stupid one. Just call me Hunter like everyone else, okay? I wear a hoodie which I never take off and also don't own a shower or a washing machine, that's why are my clothes and face constantly bloodstained. I don't think you need to know anything else about me, because I assume you don't even give a fuck.
So just let me tell you everything from the beginning. It's not much anyway, since the author is a lazy bastard.
It started last week. I was just lying on the couch half asleep, watching some stupid-ass talkshow, when something broke through my window. I jumped up immediately to see a vaguely human-shaped figure crawling towards me.
Its skin was a weird greyish shade of green and was covered in ulcerating tumors.
„Man, ever heard of chemotherapy?"
Instead of answering it just lashed this wet fleshy thing hanging out of its mouth in my direction. A tentacle? A tongue? A penis? So many questions and so little time.
I caught that phallic whatever and pulled. The tumor guy growled and tried to hit me with his fist, but I deflected it and caught him into a grip. Good thing I had been taking the karate lessons in elementary school.
He was now lying paralyzed face down on the ground, tumor staining my brand new white carpet. Fuck you, cancer guy. Fuck you.
I was sitting on his back and when I realized that the disgusting pus is smearing all over my lower body, I shrieked like a teenage girl.
,,Okay, pal, who are you, why did you break into my house and why is your tentacle thing trying to lick my face?"
Again he didn't answer and just growled at me. I figured out it might be because I was still holding his oral outgrowth and forcing him to lie face down. I swiftly turned him around to sit on his stomach and hold his wrists. He finally spoke.
,,This is starting to look like a scene from a cheap yaoi manga."
I looked at him confusedly, as he slid his thingie, which I definitely identified as a tongue, under my hoodie.
„Dude." I said with a literal deathstare.
„Come on. You know you like it."
„Dude, I swear-" I glanced at him threateningly. „Go any further, and I'll—"
I felt his tongue trying to get under my pants and got scared. I let one of his wrists to take that disgusting thing out of my clothes. Well, as you can surely guess, that was a huge mistake. He took it to his advantage and nailed me down to the ground. He started tearing off my clothes while muttering something disgusting and drooling all over me.
I started to yell and swear incomprehensibly.
I felt like a basset who's about getting humped by a giant mastiff.
And I felt something hard pressing onto me... ‚Oh dear god, why- '
I hated myself for the single tear escaping my eye. The tumor-guy spotted it and grinned wildly. He leaned closer to my ear and whispered.
„Aw, are we crying? How lovely. My, my, you seem to be trying to turn me on purposedly."