| >> | No.34414 I led her into my room. She was pretty: brown hair, muddy green eyes, no rolls of fat, no fields of acne scaring her face, about sixteen years old, and a decent sized rack (not big but not a flat chest either). She stopped and looked about the room to admire my collection; Kare Kano boxset (Very good, cute little series until Anno left, then the budget dropped and the show went to shit), Neon Genesis Evangelion Platinum Edition (Not as bad or as good as people say it is) along with some Asuka and Rei figurines, Full Metal Alchemist (Great series, seems like a shonen but it’s so much better and deeper), a vintage Akira movie poster, pretty much every Gundam series boxset except for G Gundam which is total crap, a poster for the original Ghost in the Shell movie release, Unopened Robotech Mecha action figures (Mint condition), and so so so so much more. It would take days to list. She whistles, “Nice. Very Nice.”
“Thanks.” I say, barely able to hold down my overflowing pride.
We met at the high school anime club, which is mainly filled with fat wastes of life, and noticed each other amongst the smell of body odor and sound of a subbed Sailor Moon episode playing. She took the invitation to my place and here we are. She certainly knows how to appreciate good collection when she sees one.
I decide to get right to the basics and start her interrogation, “Ok, so let me, get this out the way – Do you like Inuyasha?”
She glances at me with something close to disdain, “God, no. There’s nothing interesting in a show about a bishy dog teenager not having enough guts to fuck his girlfriend, but will spend 15 minutes stupidly attacking his enemy’s new barrier before he realizes that he’s gonna need a 15 episode quest to get by it.”
She then lets out a mocking yell of KAAAAGGGGOOOOMMMEEEEE.
“Good.” I sigh. I brought in a girl I met in a convention two weeks ago and she answered that she liked Inuyasha, I think her corpse (or whatever is left of it) is buried in the Johnson’s yard, I really can’t remember.
“Cowboy Bebop?” she perks.
“Certainly, very good episodic anime.”
“Spike dies.” She teases with a smile
I smile, this is turning out very well, she has a cute sense of humor too.
We talk some more and she tells me how she dislikes shonen in general, she never watched it as a kid so she doesn’t have any “nostalgic fondness” for it like other anime fans do. I’m agreeing and nodding, when suddenly it fucking hits me: Wait, does she mean One Piece too? She better not fucking mean One Piece, which is an excellent anime and manga that portrays the silliness of the entire shounen genre by doing everything in an over the top manner but while still having deeper characters than any other shounen could.
My hands flex and tighten in, my teeth grit together and my expression tightens, just managing to contain my building rage until I manage to exercise enough control to ask her.
“What about One Piece?”
She stops and thinks for a second, hand raised to her chin, “Well, yeah, I guess One Piece is pretty good for it’s genre. Pirates just aren’t my thing, though.”
I relax a little, not the answer I wanted but if things continue well, I can put it aside. Besides she can always learn to appreciate it later on.
We talk some more, our opinions match. She thinks Samurai Champloo is good but weak in the middle, so do I. We like old school Robotech because it’s goofy. Rozen Maiden is kinda dumb. I’m in love, we’re soulmates. Everything matches. I’m ready to enter a relationship that will bring me happiness.
Then tragedy strikes.
She opens her mouth, “Well, actually, you know one show I really don’t like?”
“What?”
“The Melancholy of Haruhi Suz-What’s that last bit called? I don’t know. You know, the Haruhi show. It’s a fucking trite harem anime covered with a Evangelion plot and everyone is fucking homo for it. I’m a girl and even I can’t stand it.”
My pulse quickens, I start to sweat uncontrollably, my hands clench and my finger nails begin to dig into my skin. Did she just insult The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya? The smartest, most interesting, cutest romance story and perhaps anime of the 2006 season? My vision turns red.
I let loose a howl, no, a bellow of rage and turn on her. I smash her off my blue beanbag and onto the floor, on top of her. The wind is knocked out of her and before she can regain it, I’m smashing her head continually on the floor.
“YOU FUCKING BITCH. YOU FUCKING BITCH. HARUHI’S TOO FUCKING SMART FOR YOU. YOU DUMB CUNT. IT’S TOO FUCKING SUBTLE FOR YOU. FUCKING BITCH.”
I’m now smacking her across the face, hard, leaving large red welts. She’s still winded, so she hasn’t started screaming yet. Quickly, I jump off her and rush to my drawer and rattle the top drawer open, knocking a pristine Edward Elric FMA figurine to the floor chipping it.
“YOU FUCKING CUNT, DO YOU SEE WHAT YOU MADE ME DO? THAT COST ME $125, YOU DUMB LITTLE WHORE.”
I pull a dagger from the drawer, blade length is about the size of my forearm, close my bedroom door and crouch down like a lion. She’s raised herself a little, so that her hands are lifting her torso off the floor. She’s coughing and in shock, then she looks at me, sees the dagger and screams. Loud. I laugh hysterically at her screams, which are beginning to excite me, and then pounce. She raises an arm to block my falling blade, uselessly. It slices through her flesh like butter, and cuts deep into the bone. Blood spurts every where, onto me, onto her, onto my bedsheets. She stares wide eyed at her ruined, flailing mass, not quite comprehending that the cute little anime nerd she was just talking with friendly with not just a minute ago has just nearly severed it. I smash onto her again, knocking her back and stab repeatedly: into her left breast, right thigh, pelvis, and then hack at her injured arm again. She’s screaming constantly and loudly and it’s stirring my loins, I can’t hold out much longer. I slash open her stomach and let her intestines and organs pour out, her liver slops out next to me and I undo my pants and boxers and lift it up above my rock hard dick. I proceed to knife a hole in it and fuck it, furiously. Now she stares, eyes wide open, in shock, trying to mouth words but nothing will come out. I explode violently into her ruined liver and toss it at her, it smacks into her face and drops off to the side. It’s not enough though, so I leap again onto her ruined torso and slice her open further, up to her neck and fuck her vocal chords. I’m not sure if she’s dead or alive at this point. Finally, I cum again and it gurgles up to her mouth. Actually, she looks pretty dead to me.
Calmly, I put my boxers and pants back on and return to the living room to watch a Ghost In The Shell: Stand Alone Complex rerun.
A couple hours later, mom returns home. I offer her a greeting from the couch and she sets some groceries on the table. She goes through her routine of tidying up the house, dusting the hard to reach places in the living room, straightening things up in my parent’s room, and then she enters my room. She walks past the gore drenched walls, the decaying remains of the girl, (all the while whistling "Ningen Nante" by Takuro Yoshida), straightens my bed sheets, and picks up my blood soaked clothes that I changed out of. But before she goes, she glances at my still running computer monitor and something catches her eye.
From the living room I hear her yell my name, “JAMES COOLIDGE, GET IN HERE NOW MISTER.”
I rush to my door, heart pounding, and see her pointing accusingly at my monitor.
I left 4chan on, and someone has posted a picture of Fate-chan in very little of anything, just bordering NSFW. Fuck.
And that’s how I got grounded, /a/. |