Descent Into Madness
TW: Graphic images at the end
October 10, 2016
9:02 p.m.
Abate had stared at the message for a full 30 seconds. Truly, this was his mind playing tricks on him. How could a dead person be on a social media account? At the same time, instinct told him to pull up the YouTube window and close out of the video he was about to watch—the video of Luigi's ultimate humiliation. Steve Abate was someone who didn't believe in ghost stories or zombies or things like that. But at the same time—he felt like he was being spied on.
Next, Abate pulled up his "History" tab and clicked the checkmark box next to the video. Then, he hit the "Delete from history" button and confirmed that he wanted to remove the page from the tab. Once the evidence, so to speak, had been erased, he returned to his Facebook account to confront the problem.
Who's doing this? He typed in reply to the message. Was it a Smash bully, out to bug him? Or was it one of the people responsible for Luigi's undoing, drying to drive him insane, as well? Whatever it was, Steve wasn't going to tolerate it!
He'd heard stories of people who hijacked the accounts of deceased users, either to get personal information, torture surviving friends and family members, or just because they wanted to. The very thought made the Melee player see red. No way was he going to let some hacker desecrate his top main's memory! He resumed his online chat with Eddy, typing, Yep, I think somebody hacked Luigi's account.
Maybe, responded Eddy.
As Steve thought about how he'd word his response, he was notified of an incoming video call from Isai and the default user. Quickly, he hit "Accept".
"What's shaking, Steve?" asked Isai.
"That default user is still there!" said Steve as he added Eddy, Blayd and Mr. C to the video call. "You're right—maybe it's a hacker out to scare us."
As soon as everyone else was dialed up, they were quickly updated on the situation.
"Still there?" whined Mr. C.
"Okay, everybody, calm down," said Blayd. "It must be a glitch."
"Glitch? How can you be so sure?" asked Abate.
"Well, I've tried to initiate contact, to no avail," defended Blayd.
"If we ignore them, maybe they'll get the message and back off," shrugged Mr. C.
"Sounds good to me," said Isai.
"So, Stevie—when are you gonna ask that Bailey girl out, hmm?" teased Blayd, wiggling his brows.
"I don't know. Maybe when I work up the courage," sighed Steve, checking back on his conversation with Eddy.
I'm really not sure this is a glitch.
Well, what do you think it is? Responded Abate.
Today's the anniversary, you know, Eddy typed gravely, The anniversary of the tragedy.
Yeah, well—what's it got to do with this guy? If he's trying to turn what happened into a joke, I swear—
I'm just saying, it's an odd coincidence, seeing activity on Luigi's account a year after his death.
Eddy then sent his friend a link, which Steve clicked on. He was immediately taken to a page describing how the spirits of the dead could communicate with the living after leaving their earthly forms.
Abate scoffed and typed, Ridiculous superstition! You know I don't believe in ghost stories or in the occult, Eddy!
After a beat, he calmed down a bit and added, That's it. I'm reporting this creep.
Abate went back on Facebook and added this stern note to whoever sent that message. You should know that such behavior is unacceptable. I'm going to report you.
Jumping onto Google, he typed, "hacked dead people's accounts" into the search box and soon found what he was looking for: a page describing the process of reporting the hacked account of a deceased friend. In Steve's eyes, the culprit deserved worse, as he believed that due to his turbulent life on Earth, Luigi deserved at least some peace where he was now. But by memorializing Luigi's account, he was going to make sure nobody trampled on the green-clad plumber's memory.
Steve began to follow the memorialization steps as prompted by the website:
First and last name: Luigi Mario
Account URL: . .83, which he copied and pasted from the account itself.
Relationship to the deceased: Friend
Date of the person's passing: October 10, 2015
Proof of the person's passing…
Abate needed an article or a video to verify that Luigi had passed on. After a quick Google Search, he pulled up an online newspaper article discussing the murder-suicide and the harassment which led to it. That's proof enough, thought Abate as he copied and pasted the link into the space provided.
Okay. All set. Now, he just had to hit "Submit", and this stupid hacker would be done for.
But when he submitted the memorialization request…
…something went wrong.
In place of the information he'd entered, the words I GOT HIM filled each of the fields. Abate's heart stopped cold in his chest. Was this a computer virus or something? Who was "him"? Why was it all over the screen? As quickly as he could, he erased the block of text from each field, intending to try again, when—
Steve? Earth to Steve! Did you report it?
It's not working, Abate responded. Something is seriously fishy here!
That's what I'm thinking, too.
Okay, genius, got any wild ideas? I'm freaking out right now.
Relax. All you have to do is unfriend him.
But when Steve tried to do that, the "Unfriend" button was grayed out.
I can't! He typed to Eddie. It's in gray, and I can't click it!
Try refreshing the page.
"Uh—okay," said Abate as he clicked the familiar button with the circular arrow on it. Once the page was refreshed, he once again tried the drop-down menu and saw to his relief that the button was once again functional. He breathed a prayer of thanks as he successfully unfriended and unfollowed his late friend's page.
Problem-o solved, he reported to Eddy. Thanks, my friend.
Anytime.
"Steeeeve! Hey, Steeeeeeeeeeeve!" Isai sang out. "Where'd you go?"
"I—I'm still here," said Abate. "Just taking care of a pest problem, that's all."
"You mean the secret admirer you swear you don't have?" snickered Mr. C.
"For the last time…" He was cut off by a Facebook notification.
Steve's skin started prickling as soon as he read the message.
You shouldn't have done that, Steve.
Heart racing, Abate typed another warning for the mystery hacker to leave him alone. But the hacker had other plans.
I want your help.
Help? What was he talking about? Help with what? This was a financial scam, wasn't it?
Suddenly, Steve had a brainstorm. Maybe this wasn't a hacker's doing, after all!
Boss, is this you?
Boss, another Luigi player on the Smash scene, often looked up to Steve, though he played Smash 4 rather than Melee. This Luigi main was also known for his practical jokes, which ranged from the hilarious to the downright annoying. Perhaps this prankster was using Luigi's account for some campy Halloween prank.
"Hey, you guys—did any of you talk to Boss tonight?" he asked.
"I did earlier this afternoon," said Mr. C. "He wants to pair up with me for a doubles match. Why?"
"No reason. Let me add him," said Steve.
"We're in no mood for Boss's practical jokes," groaned Blayd.
"C'mon—don't we want to sort this out?" Steve shot back.
"You're all just jealous that he's featured in the most Smash 4 combo videos," laughed Mr. C.
Just then, Boss came online.
"Hi, Boss!" the others greeted as one.
Boss had a Wii U controller in his hand, looking intent, both of his thumbs dancing all over the game pad. He appeared to be locked in some For Glory match.
"Boss, can you hear us?" asked Eddy.
"He probably has it on mute," grumbled Blayd. "Hey, Boss! Turn on the sound, you moron!"
Boss set down his controller, looking exasperated, and then leaned into the video camera. "Can you all hear me now?" he asked.
"Loud and clear, Boss," said Mr. C.
"Nice to see ya!" added Isai.
"Fun fact—when you're talking to me, and I'm muted, I can still hear what you're saying," Boss said to Blayd, "so I don't appreciate being called a moron, all right?"
"Okay, truce," Blayd said quickly.
Meanwhile, Steve typed into his Facebook conversation, Boss, you sly dog! This had better not be you pulling one of your silly tricks!
He then minimized the window and found an upbeat, peppy song on his media player. Crud. This was one of Luigi's favorites, too.
"Hey, Isai," said Steve. "I thought you had an engagement tonight."
"No worries, man. Someone's gonna pick me up," Isai assured him. "So, who's going to the Halloween bash?"
"I am!" said Mr. C.
"I am!" said Boss.
"Count me in!" laughed Eddy.
"Me, too, man!" cried Blayd.
"I already have my costume!" bragged Abate.
"Yeah? And who are you going to be?" asked Isai.
"Is that a trick question? Luigi, of course! Poltergust and all."
"Wait, wait, wait. You mean to tell me that you have a replica of that ghost vacuum?" Mr. C asked enviously.
"I do. I made it myself."
"Ooh! Could you please make one for me?"
"I'll consider it, since you asked me so nicely."
"I'm bringing Ally along with me as a date," said Eddy.
"Ally? Is she your girl?" asked Blayd.
"Uh-huh. We're steady now."
"Hey, Steve—better invite Bailey before this other person gets their hooks into you," snickered Mr. C.
"Won't be a problem. I think I chased that coward off," Abate said confidently.
"You know, I'm torn between going as Bomberman and going as Marth," said Mr. C.
"What? You wanna dye your hair blue?" spluttered Boss. "Second of all, do you know how vain he is? Do you know what his taunt translates to?"
"'Everyone, please watch me'," snorted Blayd, "like he's the star attraction. His stupid Tipper cost me a few victories!"
"Well, I like Little Mac, so I'm going as him," said Boss. "How about you guys?" He logged onto Facebook as he spoke, raising an eyebrow when he saw that Isai had posted on his timeline.
"I wanna go as Luigi, too," said Eddy. "That way, Ally can go as Daisy. She likes Daisy a lot."
"Don't get me wrong, but I like Falcon. I've dreamed of cosplaying as him," Isai said dreamily, "or maybe I'll dress as Link. I was a beast with him in the good old days, too."
Meanwhile, Boss's eyes bugged out of his head when he saw the photo Isai posted. It was him, flying into a salty rage after losing!
And it wasn't the only photo. Boss soon discovered a photoset of him rage-quitting, throwing chairs, punching walls, flipping birds and storming out of rooms after somebody beat him. These were the moments he'd hoped none of his fans would ever see, and yet this twerp saw fit to make sure they saw his bad side!
"Wow, Boss, is that you?" asked Abate as he, too, perused the photos. "Man, these are intense! Isai—did you at least ask permission before uploading these?"
"What? Are you serious?! I've never seen these photos before in my life!" interjected Isai.
"Well, they came from your account!" snapped Boss. "How could you post things like this! We had a mutual understanding!"
"I'm telling you, I didn't even know these shots existed!" persisted Isai.
"Yikes, these are amazing," said Mr. C. "Boss, why didn't you tell us you have a temper?"
Boss cursed. "Do you have any idea of what this is gonna do to my reputation?!" he roared. "Isai, delete these immediately!"
"How can I? I never posted them in the first place, I swear it!" charged Isai.
"You're a dirty little rat, you know that?" growled Boss.
"Whoa, whoa. Did you just call me a rat? Are you serious?" balked Isai. "You know, you just asked me for a favor to delete this crap, which I never even freaking posted…"
"I didn't ask you for a favor!" Boss broke in. "I just asked you to clean up the mess you just made!"
"Well, I'm not responsible for this, okay? So you can at least me nice to me and let me try to help you!" spat Isai.
"Gents—gents!" Blayd called for order.
"Or, if you're going to act like a five-year-old about it, then you can place your lips upon my posterior and kiss it repeatedly!" Isai hotly went on, flipping off his accuser.
"You know, maybe if you'll take a second and watch that filthy mouth of yours…" started Boss.
"Hey, I will wipe the sidewalk with you any day of the week, bro!" Isai cried. "Any day, and twice on Sunday!"
"You're both acting like children! Stop it!" barked Blayd.
"Boss, do you want me to delete the photos or not?!" snapped Isai.
"Yes, delete them!"
"As you wish, milord," sniped Isai.
"Boss, Isai—I know a nice parking lot where the two of you can slug it out," offered Mr. C.
"No, thank you," Boss said tightly.
"What's the matter, scared?" challenged Isai.
"Just get on with it!"
"Fine! Geez! I don't know why you're so quick to assume that I posted this stuff, anyway! I keep telling you that I never laid eyes on those photos until now!"
"Well, are you deleting them?"
"I'm trying, for God's sake! Every time I hit delete, it disappears! I reload the page, and the photos are still there—I'm trying, honest to God. I am trying to help you."
"Well, that is too kind of you, my good man," Boss said sarcastically.
Isai took a deep breath and counted to ten before once again trying to delete the embarrassing photos. "Okay, it looks like it's working…"
"Thank you," Boss said snarkily. "What made you think that was okay, anyway?"
"All right. You can get your marbles now," said Isai. "They're gone."
Boss breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived.
"Hey! Those photos are back!" cried Eddy. "This time—they're under Blayd's account!"
"What? Who? Where?" spluttered Blayd as the photos were posted on his timeline.
"Okay, you're jumping on the bandwagon, too?" yelled Boss. "What did you do, copy and paste?"
"Blayd, I'm surprised at you," scolded Mr. C.
"What gives, Blayd?" Eddy led the charge.
"I didn't post anything!" shouted Blayd. "Boss and I may have our moments, but I'd never hurt him like this! Somebody's hacking us!"
"For God's sake, stop it!" Abate commanded. "This isn't going to make things any better!"
His words went unheeded as Boss gaped at a comment apparently written by Isai. "You're calling me a n—b?" he asked, soft and dangerous.
"Pardon?" asked Isai.
"Don't play innocent with me. So, you think I'm a n—b, don't you? Well, why don't I come down to your place, and we'll see who's the real n—b?"
"I'm not even typing, Boss!" yelled Isai. "What are you going to accuse me of next—having telekinesis?"
"What in the name of everything holy is happening here?!" Mr. C demanded to know as another message was posted.
"Oh, so I'm trash because I mained a bottom tier?!" seethed Isai. "You're about to lose my respect, Boss."
"Dude—I didn't type that! My fingers aren't even on the keyboard!"
"Yeah, right!" Isai shot back.
"Oh, God, somebody tell me when this is over," groaned Mr. C, tossing off his headphones.
"You know something, your crack about Luigi being bottom tier back then is rich coming from a salty rage-quitter!" snapped Isai, his pride wounded.
"Well, this 'salty rage-quitter' didn't type anything, and that's that!" shrieked Boss.
"All right, that's enough!" shouted Abate as another post came over Facebook.
"Wow, Abate—that's classic, taking Isai's side," huffed Boss.
"You two are the best friends I've ever had," said Steve, softening his voice. "How about we all settle this over a few pints, huh?"
"Oh, so you're playing peacemaker after taking Isai's side?" Boss demanded, nostrils flaring.
"What? I didn't…"
"Don't deny it, because I'm looking at this paragraph-long post defending Mr. Underdog here!"
"You're crazy! You're insane!" Abate's eyes fell on the post in question. "I didn't type that!"
"Well—who did?" Boss wanted to know.
Silence descended as the six men zeroed in on the "default user" icon. The person they'd tried to get rid of and later ignore since the chat began.
As the posts kept coming and coming, Boss stole a glance at the mystery user's username. "LisRl2015? Who the heck is LisRl2015?" he wanted to know.
"I'm telling you, I'm not sending any of those posts!" Isai continued to plead his innocence.
"Timeout! Who is this joker, and has he been here the whole time?" Blayd wanted to know.
"Didn't one of you say it was a glitch?" asked Mr. C.
"Well, the glitch just typed!" Isai said shrilly. "What kind of glitch does that, huh?!"
The six fell silent once again as LisRl2015 continued to type. Thinking quickly, Abate clicked on the user tag and selected the "Show Profile" prompt.
"We need to lose this freak, and fast," hissed Eddy.
"Hey, everyone," said Abate as he reviewed the mysterious user's profile information. "This is Luigi's account!"
"Are you sure?" asked Eddy.
"I'm positive," replied Abate. "I never got around to deleting the account."
"How on Earth could someone steal a dead guy's account?" Isai wanted to know as Abate exited the profile info page.
Abate sighed in frustration. "Who is doing this?" he wanted to know.
"Uh—maybe it's Luigi," offered Blayd.
"He's been dead for exactly a year," said Mr. C. "It can't be him!"
As Mr. C, Blayd, Boss and Isai hotly debated over the matter, Abate shot Eddy a message: This isn't u.
Nope. Why would anyone want to do this?
I dunno. To get under our skin? Because it's working.
Steve, these hackers can be savage people.
IKR? Please, just say it's not. Just—ugh—Idk.
"This could be an Internet troll for all I care," Blayd offered up.
"Why would this troll want to go after us?" asked Isai.
"Whatever the reason, we have to keep our cool," cautioned Blayd. "Trolls want to gauge reactions from their victims. We're playing right into this troll's hands."
"Can we hang up on him?" asked Boss.
"We can't. I tried more than once," said Eddy.
"Step aside, everybody. I'll handle this," said Boss. He then cleared his throat and addressed the interloper.
"Hey, LisRl2015? Listen, buddy, you're a lowlife nobody trying to act big, and if you don't take these posts down in ten seconds, then I will steamroll over there and rain an ungodly firestorm on you. You're gonna have to call in every last diplomat in America to get a binding resolution to keep me from absolutely wrecking you! I am talking scorched Earth, you turd! I will massacre you! I will [bleep] you up!"
"Erm—he's not listening right now, Boss," said Mr. C. "He's posting again?"
Boss shook his head. "Who the blazes is this guy?"
The question floated in the pregnant silence. Finally, Eddy decided to take action.
"You know what? That's it. Everybody—hands up. Right now. I'm not playing."
The remaining five obeyed at once, with Eddy following soon after. Still, messages from LisRl2015 continued to appear.
Isai was done. Finished. Getting up from his seat, he huffed, "I told you I had nothing to do with this." Muttering, he stalked away, only to return a few seconds later.
"Alright, alright—let's hang up on him," said Eddy.
"Well, how can we do that?" asked Abate. "There's no hang up button. No button to hang up on him."
They waited for a few seconds. Then, another message.
"Wait, he's sending me something," said Boss.
After another leaden silence, Boss gasped with rage. "Good Lord! Where did you get this?! This is messed up; you hear me?!"
"Settle down, Boss," said Abate.
"I have no intention of settling down!" raged Boss. "This is absolutely messed up!"
"Didn't anyone tell you to be mindful of what you post online?" chided Isai.
"That's quite enough from you," snapped Boss.
What did he send Boss? Abate questioned Eddy via a private message.
"This guy just basically threatened me," Boss went on. "Well, mister, you asked for it. I'm calling the police."
Boss grabbed up his phone and dialed 9-1-1.
"C'mon, man—you don't need to call the police," said Mr. C.
"Yes, I do! It was a threat he sent me!" countered Boss.
As Boss talked to the police dispatcher, Abate tried to reach out to Eddy, only to receive no response.
"Blayd, I promise you, if I find out you were behind this, then you'll wish you were never born," spat Boss. On those parting words, he hung up.
"Yeah, good night! Thanks for stopping by!" snorted Blayd. "Gee, what crawled up his behind?"
"So, Isai—it's not you?" asked Abate.
"No way. The day I pull a stunt like that is the day Hell freezes over," Isai insisted stridently.
"Well, then who is the coward hiding behind this username?" asked Eddy.
"Probably a rival," proposed Isai, "and Boss got rattled and hung up. Serves him right for his scapegoating and saltiness."
"Well, he's been listening to us this whole time, so he may have it out for another one of us, too," fretted Eddy.
"Okay, let's just hang up on him. Let's just hang up," said Abate.
"All right," said Blayd. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."
"Yeah. I'm sure Boss will be back to his old self then," added Mr. C.
"Abate, remember our lunch date with Ally," said Eddie.
"Of course," said Abate.
He signed into his Gmail account to peruse his inbox and found a message—from L s Rl. BOSS PLAYS THE GAME, read the subject line. Below it was this simple message:
ROUND 1: BLADES OF GLORY
Below that was a link to Instagram.
"Wait!" he called. "This LisRl2015 guy just sent me an email!"
"What does it say?" asked Eddy.
"It—it's from Luigi's email account—and there's a link," reported Abate.
"Abate—ignore it—he's just some stupid troll," said Mr. C. "It's obvious that he's a troll—plain obvious."
"Send it to me," offered Blayd. "I'll find out who it is."
"Or you can forward it to me," added Eddy.
Abate searched, but he couldn't find a "Forward" button anywhere on the site. "I must be going crazy," he gasped. "There's supposed to be a forwarding button, isn't there?"
"It's supposed to be right next to…" began Mr. C.
"I know where it is, all right?" snapped Abate.
"Abate, just send it to me so we won't have to deal with it anymore," said Blayd.
"You don't believe me? Fine," huffed Abate as he enabled share-screen mode. "See? Look. No forwarding button."
"Wow," breathed Isai. "My computer does crazy things, too."
Abate moved his cursor over the link, but didn't immediately click on it. Finally, Blayd lost patience and slammed his fists on his desk. "What are you waiting for? Open the link!" he ordered.
"Fine," snapped Abate as he clicked on it.
Hey, guys, wrote LisRl2015. Look at what Boss posted about Luigi right before he died!
It was an email from Luigi to Boss, asking him to remove the humiliating video at once if he was the one who posted it. He also apologized for not being the best he could be, citing aftershocks from the nerf.
"Oh—Boss," gasped Abate.
"My God," joined in Mr. C.
"Boss—you're sick!" seethed Eddy.
"Look, not that this is completely unwarranted, all right? Nobody want to talk about it, but here's my opinion," said Blayd. "Luigi sucked in Smash 4! He was a broken character, and he deserved everything he got from that video!"
"You're pulling my leg, right?" Mr. C was beside himself.
"Blayd," said Isai in a chiding tone.
"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" said Blayd. "That was in poor taste."
Blayd shouldn't say such things, Abate typed to Eddy.
But he's not entirely wrong. Check this out. Eddy sent a link to his friend.
It directed Steve to another YouTube video. It was silent and shot in black and white as Luigi used signs to lambast the online community for preying on him, using their secret names to cover their tracks. Abate noticed that Luigi's language was quite—strong. Returning to his chat with Eddy, he typed:
What else did you expect? He was dealing with stuff.
The emotion was too much for Abate; he couldn't continue this conversation.
I—I want to go—I'm gonna hang up—Eddy—let's just hang up.
As he typed those words, Steve got another Facebook post notification.
The message LisRl2015 had sent was truly chilling—
Hang up, and your buddies are dead.
In a panic, he lashed out. ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?! U SWORE ON HIS GRAVE! I was freaked out…
Steve, what do you think I'm doing?
You just typed to me!
What did I type to you?
Abate copied and pasted the recent message from LisRl2015.
Steve, I know nothing about the business with Luigi. Why would I be involved in that? We were friends!
Two new Facebook posts came in.
It was a comment on the Instagram post sent to them, implicating Boss for driving Luigi mad.
You murderer! You killed my brother! Mario charged.
They should lock you up! Another user agreed.
Boss is a monster! Rosalina accused.
How do you sleep at night? Sniped Peach.
This is awful!
How could you?!
Traitor!
Backstabber!
And on and on and on.
"Oh, my God," gasped Abate. "Is it true? Was Boss the one who uploaded that video?"
He returned to the video chat, where four confused faces met a bewildered face.
"I—I don't know how to tell you this," began Abate.
"What? What is this guy up to now?" asked Mr. C.
Just then, an image of Boss popped onto the screen.
"Boss?" the five asked as one.
The man sat perfectly still in his chair, in his bedroom, video games and CDs on the shelves around him. On the desk beside him rested several dangerous-looking knives, all of them covered in blood. That was when the other five men noticed the blood pouring from Boss's eyes, nose and mouth, the deep lacerations all over his shoulders and arms, the crimson liquid blooming on his tattered shirt, where even more slashes marked his chest, and copious stab wounds to his stomach. He wore a vacant expression which further struck dread into the friends' hearts.
"Boss?" asked Abate. "What happened? Did you call the police? What did they say? Who did this to you?"
No response. Boss just sat there rigidly.
"I think the screen's frozen," postulated Eddy.
Isai frowned. "Hey, Boss, you airhead—say something!"
Still nothing. Boss was as still as a statue.
"No way the screen's frozen," said Mr. C. "I hear background noises."
"Maybe the attacker paralyzed him," said Blayd.
"I'd better call him," said Isai.
"I'd better get the police down there," said Eddy, preparing to dial 9-1-1.
"Wait. Look at his mirror. It's—broken," gasped Isai.
"This was definitely a burglary," said Abate.
"Boss! Can you hear us! Is everything all right?" Eddy called out.
They heard a dial tone as Isai tried to call Boss.
"Boss! This isn't funny!" shouted Eddy.
"How much you want to bet he's just doing this for attention?" grumbled Isai.
Silence except for the dial tone. Then, after the fifth or sixth ring—
Boss crumpled from the chair and onto the floor, taking the video camera with him and leaving a bloody smear on the lens.
The five other men screamed.
"God Almighty! Boss! What happened?!" hollered Abate. "Boss? Boss? BOSS?!"
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