A house sat on a muddy patch of grass, decrepit and unwanted. The once white paint peeled off the roof. The wooden structures of the house were rotting and filling with mold. The windows, mostly, if not, completely smashed, with dirt brown glass shards littering the window panes. It seemed it had been there forever. At least, that's what the adults said, if you asked them. The kids in the neighborhood surrounding the house had come to their own conclusion that the place must be haunted. That some awful, EVIL, spirit must reside in that disgusting building. "Don't go in there!" They always told an unsuspecting child who knew no better. "Nothing good lies in there!" And little did they know, they were right.
Because inside the house, a man lived.
He was fat, repulsive, absolutely unlovable. He made burn victims look like A-tier Hollywood actors. No, to call him ugly would be doing the world a severe disservice. He was definitive proof God existed, because only a being with unlimited knowledge and power would have the willpower to make something so goddamn horrendous.
He sat in his double decker gaming chair, that moaned and heaved under his weight, desperately begging to be put out of its misery with each motion the man made. Adjusting his glasses, he turned his attention towards his monitor, a coy grin spread across his face. He was monitoring all activity and traffic outside of his house, cameras covering every possible angle of the outside world. The day had been boring, uneventful. A shame, because that anime meme he saw on iFunny put him at half mast. Looks like another day with the hand, he thought to himself with a sigh. He began unbuckling his belt, until...a girl walked up to his door.
Her name was Suzy.
A bright, young child, no older than nine, with golden yellow hair and an innocent smile. She was polite, uncorrupted for her age. She was one of those children who didn't know any better. And unfortunately for her, she lives in a heavily liberal neighborhood, and everyone is super freaky about social distancing and shit. As a result, none of the kids were allowed out and about. And as a result of THAT, no one could warn her to stay away from that little dirty house.
Suzy knocked on the door.
The man had practically sprinted to the door, completely winded by the time he managed to pry it open.
"Hello!" Suzy greeted him as he caught his breath. "I'm a representative for the Blind Children Organization of America! We were wondering if you had any money you'd like to donate to our charity?"
"I'm T," The man said. He stared at her, heavily breathing in and out for an uncomfortable long time. Of course, she didn't notice. Because she's blind. If that wasn't made apparent. You fucking dumbass.
"O...k..." She said. "So do you have donations or...?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah, my bad," T reached into his back pocket, and extended his arm outward. "Here you go."
Huh. That was odd. This money was...kinda damp. And it felt more like cloth than paper. Suzy lifted it up to her nose and sniffed it. It kinda smelled like...chloroform. She fell over, unconscious.
"Well that was easier than I thought," T hoisted her over his shoulder and brought her inside. He plopped her onto his bed.
"Let's get this over with," He said, stripping off his shirt.
But as he did so, he began to think. Maybe what he was doing was wrong. I mean, kidnapping, raping, and occasionally murdering innocent little girls? Maybe that was...actually bad?
Nah that couldn't be it.
But still, something ate at his mind. He felt almost...empty. There was no satisfaction in hurting real people anymore. Guess it was time to move on to fake people. What if he could possibly travel to a fictional world, and rape little girls in THERE! It's so crazy, it just might work!
But he can't do it on his own.
CHAPTER ONE: Welcome to the Club
T got dressed, tied Suzy up in his shit-covered basement, and quickly headed down to his friend's house. Wasting no time, he knocked on the door.
"Hey!" He said. "It's T! Open up!"
The door creaked open and none other than RocketDogGirl appeared! If there was an audience, they would be clapping.
"Oh," She said. "Hey, T. What's up?"
"Listen," T said. "You're like a scientist, and shit right? Like, you know science?"
"I mean, I've tinkered with a few things here and there…"
"Ok, good! I need you to make a machine that can take me to the Gravity Falls world!"
"Like...the tv show?"
"Yes!"
She stared at him for a moment.
"You're high," she said, before closing the door on him.
"No, I'm not! Not this time, at least!" He argued, stopping the door with his foot. "Listen, RobotDogGirl, this is super important to me. I mean, aren't we friends? Don't friends do things for each other?!"
"Uh, friends, do normal stuff, like sniff other friends' butts, or help realign each other's algorithms, or gossip!"
"What the FUCK are you talking about?!"
"Why do you even want to go to the Gravity Falls world? What could you possibly want to do there?"
"I want to kidnap and rape a young, underage Wendy Corduroy."
RobotDogGirl stared at him for a moment, contemplating how much better her life would've been if five seconds ago didn't exist. She remembers meeting him at her middle school, so many years ago. Now that she thinks about it, he was probably perving on girls just like her. She slammed and locked the door in his face.
That didn't go as planned. But T always had a backup plan. He whistled a whoop-de-doo type of tune, casually strolling back to his station wagon. He lifted the trunk, revealing piles and piles of weapons, with hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of ammo. Investing in Dogecoin really had its perks for like a week. He slid on some black gloves, and rummaged around his trunk for the perfect gun. He needed something sleek. He needed something efficient, something powerful. He needed the only gun that people who know nothing about guns know about: The AR-15. Perfect.
Still whistling his lovely tune, and gallantly skipped back up to RobotDogGirl's house, the AR strapped to chest bouncing up and down rhythmically.
"Yoohoo!" He said knocking on the door again. "RobotDogGirl, open up! I have a Venti Caramel Frappe with a dog treeeeeaaaaat!"
"That's my favorite!" She exclaimed. She sprinted over to the door, naively swinging it open, "Does it have microchips in it-"
T shot RobotDogGirl in the leg. She crumpled over, writhing in pain, as blood began to pour out the wound.
"Agh! Motherfucker! What the FUCK! FUCK you! Why?!" These were just a few of the complaints she had hurled at T.
He crouched over her and spoke, "Sorry, RobotDogGirl. It's nothin' personal. But I'll be damned if I don't get my fictional loli pussy. Now let's go work on that machine."
He lifted her up, hoisting her heavy, partially robotic, partially dog, partially human body over his shoulder. They started making their way to RobotDogGirl's laboratory.
"Man, what the hell!" She continued to complain. "I don't want any part of this!"
"You never really had a choice," T responded.
"I'm a woman of science! And all scientists have moral boundaries we refuse to cross, dammit! Except for the tens of thousands bribed every day. Think of the children! Actually, DON'T think of the children! Think of a MILF or anything else!"
"Heh. Woman. Science. That's funny," T said.
"Fuck you."
"Hey, RobotDogGirl, I've always wondered. Since you're like, part dog, do you have a bunch of nipples? Or what? Like, what's going on under that shirt?"
"Fuck you."
"Someone's cranky today," T muttered to himself.
"You shot me in the FUCKING LEG DIPSHIT!" RobotDogGirl shouted.
As they arrived at the lab, T carelessly tossed her in one of her many work chairs.
"Alright, bitch," He said. "Get started, come on, chop chop. I don't got all day."
She growled, muttering something to herself, but began the work regardless.
"If I bleed out and die, it's your fault," She said.
"The quicker you get this thing created, the quicker you get to not die."
Then...the doorbell rang.
"Hello? RobotDogGirl, you in here?" The voice said, speaking into the house.
"Did I really forget to close the fucking door?" T complained.
"Oh, you're dead now," RobotDogGirl said. "That's PrincessCow712. She doesn't mess around. She'll fuck you up, bro."
"Princess what?" He prodded. "PrincessCow? You have some weird ass friends. And why is she PrincessCow712?"
"Because, dipshit, she's a clone of PrincessCow711, who is a clone of PrincessCow710, and so on, and so forth. There are a total of 750 PrincessCows. She happens to be the only one in America."
"You have only made things more confusing," T said.
"The door was open so I let...myself...in…" PrincessCow712, a cow wearing a pink princess dress, walked into the laboratory on her hind legs. She stared at the scene: A fat ugly dude holding an AR-15, and her bestest friend, bleeding from the leg nearby.
"What the hell-" She began to say. T lifted his AR-15, unloading a magazine into PrincessCow712's fat body. Once it was emptied, he reached into his bookbag, where he grabbed another magazine and reloaded his gun. ONCE AGAIN, he unloaded a magazine into PrincessCow712. At this point, she was beyond dead, the only movement coming from the bullets hitting her corpse. He reloaded and unloaded a magazine one more time, just for the hell of it.
"Oh my god! You killed PrincessCow712!" RobotDogGirl said. "You bastard!"
"Why'd you say she'd fuck me up? What the fuck was that shit, haha."
"Fuck you."
"No, I'm serious, she died the instant the first bullet hit her."
"Yes, people tend to do that, T."
"She's not a person! She was a fucking talking cow that wore a dress. Goddamn. Now get back to work," He said, walking towards PrincessCow712's dead body. "I don't know about you, but I'm in the mood for burgers."
Ryjak's Log: February 2nd…
Visited bar for a couple hundred shots of vodka. Saw orphanage on way there. Cried.
Went home. Watched incest porn. Plot had premise. Sis was adopted after both of her parents died in a 27 person orgy. Cried. Decided to watch TV. Finding the Way Home came on. Documentary about orphans. Cried harder.
Why does God torment me? Not suffered enough? Stays in heavens to avoid my fury?
Parents died. Been dead. Don't blame whoever sees this for not knowing. Critical thinking skills greater than others. Long as I remember, in and out of homes. Yelled at, beat, sometimes with belt, sometimes with fists, sometimes with dildo. Shitty life.
One day. "Dad" hit me. Had enough. Strike back. Fist rips through chest. Dad dead. Don't know how, have superhuman strength. Run away from home.
Older. Wiser. Stronger. Honed powers. Became vigilante. Revered by all. Except police. And citizens. And criminals. Shitty life.
One thing I hate above all else. Perverts. Not just perverts. Child perverts. Beat them to pulp. Loli enthusiasts on Twitter constantly turning up dead. Will kill all pedophiles. Heading to California. Capital of Pedophiles. Can practically kill anyone I see.
I will rid world of pedophiles. Never stop. Never surrender.
Ryjak.
"Do you have any hamburger buns?!" T shouted at RobotDogGirl from the kitchen.
"Uh...no. I only have bread," She shouted back. "You better not be cooking PrincessCow712! I'm gonna get pissed, dude, seriously!"
"No, never!" T said, plopping a chunk of PrincessCow712 on the sizzling pan. "I'm not that evil!"
He began rummaging through the fridge, shoving aside various condiments and leftovers. He grabbed a cold Coors Light, popped it open, and drank thoughtfully. Ah, he thought to himself. Dog piss. Perfect.
"Dinner will be ready in a little bit," T entered the lab. "How's my machine going?"
"Almost done, asshole. I can slowly feel my life force draining from me," She groaned. "The only thing keeping me alive is my robot side."
"Well finish it up, then. I got places to be. And bitches to fuck."
"You're fucking sick."
"Thanks. A little outdated slang but...uh, radical, I guess!"
Suddenly, none other than professionalwaterdrinker entered the room! If there was an audience they would be clapping. Again.
"Oh, shit! professionalwaterdrinker! What's up, bro?" T asked.
"Hey, T. Nothin' much man. Trying to not drink any water as of late."
"Cool, cool."
"What the fuck is this?" RobotDogGirl asked.
"What?"
"What kinda name is professionalwaterdrinker?"
"Hey! Don't be bigoted!" professionalwaterdrinker said.
"Yeah, your name is literally RobotDogGirl."
"Hey, at least I'm a scientific genius. What does Mr. 'professionalwaterdrinker' have to show for himself?"
"Uh, I drink water, bitch, it's in the name."
"Professionally, may I add," T added.
"Well, I used to drink water, but I kinda got hooked. In remission. Anyways, you makin' burgers, man? Shit smells cash!" professionalwaterdrinker asked.
"Yeah, bro, you want some?"
"Nah, I don't eat beef. Or dairy. Or gluten. Or anything that isn't ice."
"Huh. Well, what's up? Just stopping by?"
"Yeah. I stopped by your place, and only saw some little girl in there, so I assumed you were down here. So, uh...listen, man. We're friends...right?"
"Uh, yeah, I think."
"And friends do things for each other…"
T and RobotDogGirl exchanged a glance.
"Spit it out, professionalwaterdrinker," T demanded.
"Listen, man, all I need is a dollar for some water, I'm totally good for it."
"I thought you were in remission! You quit that shit, man!"
"I can't stay away, T. It's been too long since I've had my last fix! Come on, hook me up! A dollar, bro!"
"Nah, G, that ain't right. I can't watch you destroy your life like this, man!"
"What the HELL, dude, after all I've done for you?!"
"All you've done for me?! You killed my FUCKING mom, bitch!"
"Ok, I may have had a little too much (water) to drink, but trust me, I'm better now. Don't be a dick, dude!"
"The police still don't know what happened to her, man. She's under my floorboards, man. I had to disintegrate her corpse in acid."
"As much as I wanna laugh at that, T, this is very serious, bro! You owe me! I let you rape my little sister, man!"
"Ok, this took a NEEDLESSLY dark turn," RobotDogGirl said. "Also, the machine's done."
"About time!" T said. "Listen, professionalwaterdrinker, if you wanna tag along with us, you can. I have no idea what to expect going into this fictional world, and can use all the back up I could get. Join us, and I'll give you a dollar."
"Hell yeah!" professionalwaterdrinker fist pumped the air.
"Woah, woah, hold on," RobotDogGirl said. "'Us'? That wasn't the deal, T."
"Yeah, the deal was, I wouldn't kill you if you made the machine. So, I won't kill you. But I'm not letting you go. So...you're coming with us. Soon as I'm done with these burgers. You know. The burgers I made with your friend's flesh."
"Fuck my life," RobotDogGirl muttered to herself.
Ryjak's Log: February 3rd
California is exactly as figured. Everyone ugly. And liberal. Sleeping with dogs and trash. Too poor to afford anywhere to sleep. Saw man shitting in streets. Got pissed. Beat him to pulp.
May have found a pedophile. Word of house in outskirts of L.A.-kids conveniently disappear. Latest victim-Suzy Livingston. Disappear only eight hours ago. Still time. Still can be hero.
Will find pedophile. Rip out heart and force him to shit it out. But traffic is horrid. Painfully horrid. Set back work by an hour or two. Remind me to murder everybody in California.
Ryjak.
"Alright, I'm all set," T said, slipping his backpack over his shoulder.
"Let's get this over with," RobotDogGirl said, powering up the massive machine. A large circular disk rested in the center of the laboratory, sparking to life before the trio's eyes.
"Hey, I just realized," professionalwaterdrinker said. "RobotDogGirl, you're like part labrador, right? So there's totally a lab joke waiting to be formed. Like, you know, you're a labrador in a laboratory? A lab in a lab. I don't there's a sex joke in there."
"Fuck you," RobotDogGirl said.
"Someone's cranky today," professionalwaterdrinker muttered to T.
The three stood on the large circular disk. RobotDogGirl angrily slammed her fist on the control panel. A green sphere of energy surrounded them, and before they knew it...they were gone.
T opened his eyes as he slowly climbed to his feet. "Ugh…" he groaned, grasping...sand? "Where the hell are we, RobotDogGirl?"
professionalwaterdrinker and RobotDogGirl surveyed the land around them. Sand. Sand everywhere. And jagged buildings. And weird coral shapes in the clouds. And they seemed to be...underwater.
"Uh, oh," RobotDogGirl said. "I must have messed up my configurations. Which rarely happens."
"A woman making a mistake? Who would've guessed!" T said angrily. "What is this place?"
"Dude, I think...we're in SpongeBob? Like the show, SpongeBob SquarePants," professionalwaterdrinker said.
T looked around some more. That is definitely where they were.
"Goddamn it. Well, get us out of here, RobotDogGirl."
"Uh...yeah...about that. Remember five seconds ago when I slammed my hand on the control panel?"
"Are you telling me...we're STUCK HERE?!" T shouted.
"Who knows how these guys are gonna react to outsiders?" professionalwaterdrinker asked. "And it looks like we have company."
And in the distance, approaching the trio, was a yellow sponge and pink starfish.
.
.
.
Ryjak kicked the door to T's house open. He instantly recoiled at the awful smell that managed to puncture through his dark blue balaclava. He reached into his matching blue trench coat, yanking out a flashlight. He couldn't see shit in the dark dank area, and was glad to luminate it.
He was able to clear out the living room, nothing worth noting aside from blood and cum stained socks. Ryjak stuffed one of them into his pocket. Evidence for later, he thought for himself. He found the door to the basement and tried it.
Locked.
No issue for the man with superhuman strength. He kicked the door off with ease.
Needless to say, he quickly found Suzy. He untied her, and led her out the house.
"Little girl," He said, voice raspy and scratched. "Who did this?"
"I-I don't know…" Suzy sniffled.
"Right...blind," Ryjak said to himself. "Man say anything?"
"When...when he was tying me up in the basement, he said 'normal girls ain't cutting it no more.' He was raving to himself about a friend...and how she would make a machine for him or something…"
"Do you have name?"
"I think his friend's name was...RobotDogGirl or something?"
"...Go home. Tell parents you wandered in forest and got lost. Do not mention man. Do not mention me. Understood?"
She nodded furiously and hurried off. Ryjak watched her run off, making sure she got home safely. Which, you know, he could've escorted her back himself or something. She's fucking blind.
"Coming for you," Ryjak said to himself, smiling for the first time in years. "Be prepared."
To Be Continued...