Author's Note: I wish to state unequivocally that I am cognizant of the reviews and messages inquiring whether authors are interested in proposals or commissions to adapt their stories into comics. From my experience, I regard these solicitations as scams aimed at exploiting authors. Any review or message that requires me to contribute financially will be immediately blocked and reported. I've noticed that stories pertaining to Japanese anime are often the targets of these scammers. Such comments and reviews contravene the Fanfiction guidelines, which explicitly prohibit spamming, harassment, and exploitation. I fully endorse and uphold these guidelines. Participating in such conduct undermines the creative community and exploits the dedication and effort of authors. Hence, I request that you refrain from posting a review or sending a message that solicits my participation in comic creation, particularly if it entails a financial contribution on my part. Engaging in such behavior will lead to a block and a report to the platform authorities for breaching community standards. I appreciate your understanding and cooperation. Let's maintain a safe and supportive environment for our creative community. It does not matter if the user has acknowledged this disclaimer and ignored the warning—the user will be reported and blocked regardless, without exception. Even if the solicitation for financial contribution has been removed, the review will be reported.
After a long day, I decided to hit the gym to release some stress. The bustling gym was filled with the sounds of weights clanging, treadmills whirring, and energetic music pumping through the speakers. I started with a warm-up on the treadmill, gradually increasing the speed until I was running at a steady pace. The rhythmic pounding of my feet on the treadmill was just the thing to clear my mind—because what could be more relaxing? I moved on to the weight section. I began with bench presses, feeling the familiar burn in my chest and arms as I lifted the heavy barbell. Gritting my teeth, I pushed through the reps, determined to increase my strength. Between sets, I glanced around and noticed others focused on their routines, each lost in their own world of fitness—clearly, I wasn't the only one who thought lifting heavy objects repeatedly was a brilliant idea.
Next, I headed over to the squat rack, my favorite exercise for building leg strength. I loaded the bar with weights and positioned myself under it, taking a deep breath before lifting it onto my shoulders. I lowered myself into a squat, feeling the strain in my thighs and glutes, then pushed back up with a grunt of effort. The satisfaction of completing each rep fueled my determination to keep going—because who doesn't love a bit of self-inflicted pain? As I moved through my routine, I couldn't help but notice a few people watching. I imagined impressing them with my form and dedication, envisioning myself as a source of inspiration for others in the gym. Or perhaps they were just wondering why I was making such strange faces. Just thankful I didn't let one slip at the gym. That would have been lovely—farting in the middle of a public gym, like my dignity needed another band-aid for the open wound on my pride. After an intense session, I ended with some stretching to relax my muscles and prevent soreness. The cool-down stretches felt like a reward, a moment of peace and relaxation after the hard work. With my workout complete, I wiped the sweat from my brow and headed to the locker room to grab my belongings. Feeling a sense of accomplishment and exhaustion, I made my way home, looking forward to a well-deserved break.
Upon arriving home, I kicked off my shoes and dropped my gym bag by the door. I headed to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and took a long, refreshing drink. With my thirst quenched, I plopped down on the couch, ready to unwind. I cannot deny my body has shown a remarkable amount of fitness, which is good. But honestly, on a dating site, other people must think I am nothing but a piece of meat. The curse of dating, and I'm a bloody guy. As I lazily scrolled through a popular video-sharing platform, I stumbled upon an interesting video about working out. The thumbnail promised some new techniques that I was eager to try out during my next gym session, envisioning myself perfecting those moves and impressing everyone at the gym. But just as I was about to immerse myself in the video, the dreaded buffer symbol appeared, signifying an interrupting advertisement before the actual content. Fantastic. I sighed, somewhat annoyed, and prepared myself for the 25-second wait, feeling the frustration build up as I was eager to learn and improve my workout routine.
The advertisement that followed showcased a Marvel game, a fight-based game that immediately caught my eye with its vibrant graphics and dynamic animations. The ad displayed iconic Marvel characters, each engaging in epic battles, their powers and abilities brought to life in stunning detail. I watched as Spider-Man swung through the air, dodging attacks with his agility, while Iron Man fired repulsor blasts at his foes. The Hulk smashed through obstacles with his brute strength, and Captain America showcased his combat skills with his indestructible shield. As a devoted fan of Marvel, I found my initial annoyance giving way to curiosity and excitement, my mind racing with the possibility of controlling these heroes in intense battles. Must resist new addiction. Once the ad finished, my curiosity got the better of me, and I decided to download the app. I headed to the app store, my anticipation building as I found the game and initiated the download. The description promised an immersive experience with stunning graphics, a variety of characters to choose from, and intense battles that would keep me hooked for hours. It took only 10 seconds to complete, and I eagerly activated the app, my heart pounding with excitement as I imagined myself stepping into the shoes of my favorite Marvel heroes.
To my shock, my phone started to shake violently, the screen flickering with strange lights and colors. Because why wouldn't it? The intensity of the shaking increased, making it difficult to hold onto the phone. I watched in horror as two gigantic shadowy arms emerged from the screen, their form shifting and undulating like living shadows. Seeing these gigantic hands reminded me of those eerie moments from an old cartoon where inanimate objects would come to life in a deserted farmhouse, always giving off a creepy vibe. The hands made a horrible, ear-pitching screeching noise that sent shivers down my spine. My pulse quickened, and a surge of panic coursed through me. I stumbled back, my mind racing for a way to escape this surreal nightmare. Desperately, I turned towards the door, my hands fumbling to grasp the doorknob. My fingers slipped and struggled to find purchase as the shadowy arms reached out further, their cold, unyielding grip drawing closer. "Somebody help me!" I called out, my voice tinged with desperation. In a frantic attempt to defend myself, I jabbed one of the hands with my keys, hoping to deter its advance. Because keys are the ultimate weapon, obviously.
The walls around me seemed to close in, and the room spun with a dizzying sense of dread. Before I could react, the arms wrapped around me with an iron grip, pulling me towards the phone. I fought against their hold, kicking and thrashing, but my efforts were in vain. The shadows enveloped me, and I felt myself being pulled into the vortex. I caught a brief glimpse of the room fading away, the colors swirling into a dark abyss. Everything went black, and I slipped into unconsciousness, my mind swirling with confusion and fear. The last thing I remembered was the feeling of being pulled into a void, my surroundings dissolving into darkness, and the faint echo of familiar theme music playing in the background. Perfect. Just perfect.