Silent Hill: Shattered Expectations
James Sunderland wandered through the darkened sewers looking for the will to go on. He was having a hard time finding it as the seventh crunchy corn encrusted brown poo poo log brushed past his seventy-five dollar pant leg, now ruined from several days of wandering through filth, blood, and zombified flesh. Curse it all, he thought as he gagged on the stench of a thousand wretched senile and morbidly obese asses. America so desperately needed to go on a diet. A faint splashing came from around the corner and at that moment James new he could be in for quite some trouble. Indeed, it was a loathsome sight as one of the jerking flesh-jacket corpse came stumbling around the corner like a drunken uncle back from the pub, eager for a night of playing "What's that in my mouth?" with under aged persons. James shuddered and turned on his heel, going quickly in the opposing direction as fast as his spindly chicken legs would take him.
"I've got to get out of this nightmare!" James cried as he increased his speed and fled past the annoying locked doors and up several flights of rickety winding stairs until he abruptly came to as halt when he smashed head long into a lumpy flesh bag. It was that fugly psycho chick with the daddy stabbing problems and shit on fire.
"Watch it, asshole! I had the right of way here," the dumpy brunette snipped at the poor fellow as he fell back upon his haunches on the cold unforgiving concrete.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Angela, I didn't see you there," apologized James for a millisecond before he realized her fat pasty pale ass didn't deserve one. "WAIT, why the hell am I wasting time here with you, I could be running from the monsters. BITCH, GET OUT THE WAY!" he snarled and shoved the aspie knife fetishist down the length of stairs behind him, taking a moment or two to chuckle as he watched the odd little lady roll head over cankles before finally coming to a fantastic rumbling thud into the wall below. "OK, enough fun times. I gotta go!" And then James-kun ran off on his merry way. He suddenly and terrifyingly realized however, that he really did have to go in a more figuratively literal fashion, much to his chagrin. The lizard needed to be drained desperately. Luckily for Mr. Sunderland, a restroom was easily within jogging distance. He gave a giggle and skipped off toward his new destination.
Without warning for dramatic effect, a table-bed-door monster appeared! HP 450 MP 78 Weakness Ice and professional therapists
"OH NOE, an Abstract Daddy!" James cried with anguish. "How eerie that I remembered what the name of that thing was without a cursory glance to a reference guidebook to jog my memory even though it's been 9 years since I've played this game," he stated bluntly. "Oh wait, I accidentally quoted the author's tract. I mean GWAAAARFF!" Jamesu gasped unceremoniously as he was assaulted by the mouthy beast's beast mouth and sucked into its molesting suspiciously vaginal orifice.
The Daddy slammed James to the ground with the force of a horny teenager in his prime and the absurd strength of a living bed-door-wood dining table. Thing. With hands. And feet. And people being raped. And a creepy lip kissy mouth, and a scary unpleasant not-vagina mouth that still looked like a vagina. But wasn't at all as pleasant. EGADS. "Nooooooo!" cried James as his struggles for freedom were thwarted by the creature's disgusting need for sexual abuse. It bore down on him, slobbering about his handsome clean shaven face and soft brushable dirty blond hair.
The sexually frustrated and somewhat gender confused table-bed beast began dry humping poor little James in a furious motion, sending wave after wave of disturbing awkwardness through the captive man's body. And also pain because every time it slammed down on him the corner of its corner-table-like head would smack James' and it was starting to bruise. "Ow. Ow. Ow," he wailed from his sullen position as he laid there and took it like a beaten wife. Or an unfortunate young girl, but we're not here to discuss that. But James was a man. Not a lowly cum receptacle created for the soul purpose of pleasuring the male race and producing young. No, not he! How dare the creature think such a thing! James' heart and mind burned with fiery passion and blood lust and a little bit of indigestion from that salsa verde burrito he had eaten two hours before, and he suddenly found the strength to do battle with his otherworldly foe. Spiritually, that was. He just couldn't live up to the task physically because he was a limp wristed fruit picking little bitch. Hot tears threatened to flow from James' disproportionally enlarged animu-sparkle-filled eyes, but just then, James saw hope in the form of an old friend. And that friend was good old Pyramid Head.
"PYRAMIDO-KUN DESU!" James cried out, hand outstretched to his former beloved. And lo, the cry was heard as the red metal bucket-triangle headed man-butcher-thing turned and dropped the nurse he had been in the midst of showing just how far an O-ring orifice could stretch and rushed to his misguided human lover's aid.
The mighty PH raised his Great Knife and sliced the Abstract Daddy in twain. The chunklets split cleanly and fell over to each side, releasing James from his icky monster spit and hurty dry hump filled torment. James sat up and gave an excited squee like a little dumbshit fangirl reading a really badly written kawaii-desu lemon Resident Evil fanfiction written by another little dumbshit fangirl who thinks Chris-kun would ever allow himself to be raped by Wesker-sama. Because everybody knows Wesker is the real uke-bottom-desu of the two and Chris never gets to top which is fucking bullshit. Pyramid Head gave a thumbs up standing over the now Abstracted Daddy.
Stricken suddenly by his need to piddle, James cut his thanks short and fled into the restroom where he reached the shining porcelain goddess and promptly unzipped his noodle in time to spill his stream of golden nectar into her waiting maw. "OOOOH GOOOOOOOD YESSSSSSSSSS," James moaned like every soused bar louse does when he's coming closer to Jesus after a long night of lapping sweet sweet hop-filled ambrosia. It was an orgasmic experience. James shuddered as he felt himself drying out. As he slowed to a trickle, he grinned, for apparently no reason other than pissing gave him a funny feeling in his nether regions and he'd never until now been able to truly realize his water sports fetish. "Oh baby," he muttered sexily as he gave his dirty girl a flush. She would keep their little secret. It was her job.
He was about to make his exit when he bumped smack into the broad shouldered and muscular demon king, Pyramid Head, who had entered the room seemingly discontent without his bosom buddy there to provide feedback of his gruesome prior kill. "Oh hey, PH," said James with a friendly wave. "Say, did you happen to see Maria come by when you were roaming the halls and raping everything? I haven't seen her in like over four hours and it's starting to make me uneasy. Mostly because I bummed her my last cigarette without realizing it," he muttered but suddenly was stopped short by PH grasping a large hand into his jacket fibers and hoisting him towards the nearby wall. The tiles cracked slightly as great PH shoved James against the wall with one fluid motion and tore down his pants with another. "Oh, PH! You randy dog!" snickered James as his plump and juicy ass was exposed to the hygienically unsound waste receptacle station.
Pyramiddo Headdo-san was definitely in the mood for some lovin'. He unleashed his seventeen and a half (balls included) inch ghost-zombie-demon ram rod and tenderly and lovingly inserted into slot B, the receptive end. Once inserted, flip tab A over to a 95 degree angle and twist until you hear a pop. And a pop was heard indeed, as James' proverbial man cherry was properly taken. A gasping cry left James' ravishing lips as his sphincter was stretched to maximum capacity, its tight velvety walls filled with a throbbing hardness so delicious it could make Paula Dean's butter drinking frozen ham to face catching wide load of a redneck puss boil with her lard encrusted thighs want to chew her own legs off to come taste of it, if only for a second, it was so amazing. YES. And how James loved it. He knew at that very moment this was where he needed to be, nay, where he was destined to be! Yes, he had been drawn here to the world of Silent Hill (2) to know what it meant to be loved, to know how it felt to make love. With a monster. Who was undead. And raped everything he came across and had a big fucked up metal hat. And everyone still loved him, even fangirls. Because he's so damn sexy, don't you know. AND IT WAS SIMPLY BEAUTIFUL.
Chubby cherubims from on high sang and danced, choruses from the heavens symphonies played for them. In that moment of time, all was nary to be dwelled upon. There was only desire. And James felt it. In his butt. And also his head and body as he was pounded ferociously by Mr. Triangle Hat who kept a firm grip on James' equally firm ass as he ground away with punishing thrusts but he was also gentle like a good and loving seme, because what they shared was a love truer and deeper than any before them. Because it was rape and everyone knows rape is the truest form of love, because it is deep and earnest love that you did not realize you needed and wanted so bad until that very moment.
"OOOOOOOOOooooooh, Pyramid Head," moaned Jamessssssss as he smashed his own body against the thick sweet pole of ultimate justice and redemption for sins past. "YES, OH GOD YES, THIS IS JUST LIKE EVERY FANFICTION THAT HAS EVER BEEN WRITTEN IN THIS FANDOM BEFORE OH GOOOOOOOOOOD OOOOOOOOOOOOOOH WHY DO THEY SLASH US TOGETHER SO MUCH, WHY CAN'T I BE IN LOVE WITH ANOTHER HUMAN OR FEMAAAAAALE OOOOOH, never mind, I'm going to ejaculate so I need to exclaim such for some reason OMG, I'M CUMMINGGGG," James cried out with the ferocity of a billion butthurt greasy acne riddled Sony fanboys when they learned MGS5 would not be exclusive to Playstation. The franchise was already dead at 2, people. Get over it. And James' body tingled with sheer pure ecstasy and joy.
Still fueled with unholy lust and stamina to match, Pyramid Head kept the little man-slut balanced precariously on his monstrous love spear and began to swirl his massive hips around just for fun. James' manly flesh package bobbed to and fro like eager onlookers at a riveting tennis match played by the dark chocolate twins Serena and Venus for they are the finest bitches to ever slap a fuzzy ball across a court. The clockwise motion of the flapping penis became somewhat entrancing, dare we say hypnotic and James looked upon it and realized he could not look away. He counted the number of rotations his wiener did and suddenly felt the bizarre urge to market the idea as a shock site just for shits and giggles. How disappointed he would be to learn that it had already been done, and far better than he could have imagined at that point in his life.
"COCKLES, OH COCKLES, AND SHELLS BY THE SEA," James screamed out as orgasm ripped through his abused body and Pyramid Head's own gushing kiss of wet satisfaction flowed forth by the bucketfuls and shot the slender man several feet into the air. He came back to gravity's unforgiving embrace seconds later and crashed to the floor, sprawled amidst puddles of soil water and soggy toilet paper, covered in PH love stains and thoroughly satisfied. Pyramid Head just grabbed his shit and left because only pussies stay to cuddle and he was a godless rape-killing machine from some twisted Japanese version of a psychological personal hell. Because Japanese people create the most fucked up things ever. But for some reason everyone loves them and everything they make anyway. GANBAREMASU!
"Pyramid-kun! Aishe de massu desu," James whispered tenderly with a smile as he curled up and drifted off to sleep.
The End.