His name is Christ7 and he is on Urbis.
Short Story / Just Words (Analysis)
‘Fuck you, loser! I’ll fly out there and wip your old ass up and down the street!’ To many, the simple, yet provocative statement that rested safely within the borders of the message box displayed on the computer’s monitor were just words, but for Eugene, they were so much more. For this scrawny, rodent-like person, those words were his golden opportunity to strike out at a population that he had found so much difficulty connecting with. For Eugene, cyberspace was a warzone and those words were his weapon.
Sitting amidst the glow that the monitor projected into the dark-filled room, Eugene ran his bony fingers through his thin and oily, shoulder-length brown hair, then took one more sip from the can of Mountain Dew that was resting on the desk. He smiled a toothy smile and sat the can down next to the keyboard, gliding his fingers across the keys. Then, with an annoying little chuckle, he selected send. And just like that, the words were gone−broken down into a complicated code of numbers and symbols and sent soaring down that super highway that nobody can see, but all know is there.
Within minutes, the words would reappear, only this time, they would be in the inbox of some poor soul that Eugene had been tormenting for days. This was Eugene’s method of attack and he orchestrated it well. He was the master and commander of his own little army of words, dispatching them all over the globe to bring him victory over those who dared to stand against him. Masked by quirky little screen names, he spent each night trolling through a number of community web sites, looking for new and easy targets.
After checking his inbox to find no response, Eugene placed his black plastic-framed glasses on his face and rose from his chair. He stretched his arms in the air and arched his back to work out the kinks of hours spent at his helm, then waded across the laundry-littered floor to exit the tiny bedroom. Arched slightly forward in its stance, Eugene’s five-foot, ten-inch frame clumsily passed from the hallway and into the living room of the two bedroom apartment. He looked to the plastic-covered green sofa that sat facing an ancient console television. His mother still had not returned from bingo.
Eugene shook his head disapprovingly and continued into the narrow kitchen. Opening the fridge, he removed another Mountain Dew. What he really wanted was one of those mini fridges to keep in his room for his drinks, but his mother had sternly spoken against it. “ya want your own fridge? Get your own place,” she had told him.
After taking a cookie from an aluminum foil-covered tray on the counter, Eugene exited the back door of the residence and took a seat on the middle of four steps that deployed to the ground. He placed his can down beside him and removed a pack of Marlboros from the breast pocket of the short-sleeved button down shirt that he wore over the top of a navy blue t-shirt. Eugene lit one of the cigarettes and exhaled the thick smoke high into the air.
Resting his arms on his knees, Eugene looked out into the overgrown weeds of the back lot and sighed audibly. He really wasn’t looking forward to going in at seven-thirty in the morning, but due to a coworker needing to attend a funeral, Eugene had to open the video store. He hated getting up early−especially if it involved the store.
Working at Front Row Video wasn’t exactly the most lucrative career around, but it did have its perks. Other than the occasional point or nod in the right direction and telling a customer that the store’s one copy of the time-honored classic, The Little Mermaid, was currently out, Eugene didn’t have to deal with people much. The free movies and games, along with the hours, were a plus as well.
Eugene stood up from the step and flipped his cigarette off into the darkness, then turned to walk back into the apartment. After snagging two more cookies from the tray, he made his way back through the living room and into the hall. When he reached the door to his room, Eugene paused suddenly. The door was slightly ajar and he was sure that he had closed it all the way. He always closed it all the way. Puzzled, he looked back into the living room and at the sofa.
Satisfied that the room was empty, Eugene gently cracked the door to his mother’s room, but found it empty as well. Maybe I didn’t get it closed all the way, he thought to himself, then turned back to his room and closed the door behind him. Eugene casually surveyed the room as he walked to his chair, finding nothing out of place. His empty Mountain Dew can was even sitting where he had left it, right next to his keyboard.
Setting the new can down next to the old one, Eugene clicked his mouse to refresh the page on his screen and found that he had a new message in his inbox. He quickly plopped into the chair, excited to be back in the game. Eugene clicked his mouse once more to reveal the message and the words appeared among the bright glare of the screen. ‘One more fucking message, asshole and I’m reporting you to the administrator!’ Hunkered over the keyboard, Eugene grinned excitedly and readied his fingers to fire back. He had the guy on the ropes now. Fuck the administrator, he thought. Eugene was prepared for that. He held several different accounts with the site−all under false names.
Eugene prepared his reply in his mind, but before he could type the first character, he noticed something at the top of his page. A small numeral one was positioned over the little envelope in his toolbar, informing him that he had mail. Unable to resist the urge, Eugene worked the mouse and clicked on the icon. The eager look on his unshaven face turned sharply when he read the words in the box. ‘What’s up, bunghole breath? Busy turnin tricks with your mommy?’
Shocked by the bold, black characters on his monitor, Eugene’s left eye began to nervously twitch. His first clear thought was to look at the sender−Snake-eater72. Who the hell was Snake-eater72? Eugene knew that he had seen the name before, but could not remember where. There had been so many over the years−so many that it was impossible to keep track of them all. Hell, he was currently badgering over twenty people on as many different sites.
Suddenly, who it was became of little importance, as how they got his email was now his top concern. Eugene never used this address for anything other than staying in contact with his gamer friends and he never messed with any of them. No, this was someone he had battled with, but how did they get his email address? Just like his site accounts, Eugene had a hundred different addresses−all under different names and just to be extra cautious, he managed his internet connection by piggy-backing off of one of the neighbors’ wireless networks.
While Eugene pondered the situation in his head, calmly searching for a logical answer, he nervously nibbled away at one of the cookies. Then, he looked to the top of the page to find another numeral one over the little envelope. With an uneasy jitter, Eugene selected next on his mail options. ‘Easy there, loser. I wouldn’t want you to choke on that fucking cookie now.’
The words sent a chill snaking down Eugene’s spine and as he glanced over the monitor to the window, his nose twitched to a familiar, but out-of-place scent. Cigarette! Eugene smelled a cigarette. The fact that he had just finished one outside must have kept him from noticing it earlier. Eugene’s eyes lowered to the empty Mountain Dew can next to his keyboard. He slowly picked it up and looked inside and the sight of the Camel butt resting in the drop of yellow liquid at the bottom made his face grow pale.
“Ya know? You really shouldn’t drink that shit, Eugene. Of all the soft drinks, Mountain Dew has the most sugar. It can really rot your teeth out.”
Eugene’s body stiffened with fear at the sound of the voice behind him. His mind began to work in circles so rapidly that he couldn’t concentrate on a single thought. For the first time in years, Eugene could find no words.
“Ah, come on, Eugene. Surely a silver-tongued devil like yourself can come up with something snappy to say.”
Eugene said nothing. He simply sat stiffly in his chair, eyes fixed to his monitor. He wished terribly that he could crawl inside its powerful glow to escape what he knew was coming. With a familiar scratching sound, Eugene saw a flicker of light reflect on the screen, followed by a thick layer of smoke drifting over his shoulder.
“You don’t mind if I smoke, do ya, Eugene?” The sound of footsteps on the hardwood floor echoed across the room. “I came a long way to see you, Eugene. The least you could do is turn and look at me.”
Though he was terrified of what he might find, Eugene slowly rotated the chair clockwise, allowing his eyes to rest on the dark figure that was now standing beside the dresser.
“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” the man said. “I mean, I know I’m no Brad Pitt, but I’m no Jack Black either.” The figure reached up with his left hand and removed something from the top of the dresser. “Star Wars, Eugene? At twenty-nine, don’t ya think that you’re a little old to be playing with dolls?”
With wide eyes, Eugene watched as the man slowly worked his way around the room, looking everything over very carefully, as if taking a mental inventory.
“Now, that was a great fucking movie,” the man said, pointing to a movie poster of Black Hawk Down. “But you really had to be there to fully understand. Know what I mean, Eugene?”
Without even realizing that he was doing so, Eugene nodded his head in agreement as he continued to watch the man circle the small room.
“Don’t you even want to ask how I found you?” the man asked, taking a Japanese sword down from its perch on the wall. “I have to admit, it really was harder than most. And stealing the Wiznewski’s signal was a nice touch.”
The man walked to the window and looked out onto the street, watching as a taxi slowly passed in the dark. He maintained his visual on the car until its tail lights disappeared passed the line of parked cars along the curb.
“Your mother should be home from bingo soon.” He casually turned to face Eugene, appearing to be amazed by the sight of him in the cooling glow of the monitor’s light. “I’ll give you my address and you can come over so that I can wip the piss out of you, old man. Isn’t that one of the first of many lovely messages that you left in my inbox? Well, the old man is here, Eugene.”
Suddenly, the figure leaned in out of the darkness and for the first time, Eugene could see his face. Though it was clear that the man was older than Eugene, his face maintained a nice, youthful appearance. For a moment, Eugene was put at ease by the boyish look, but then, he noticed the eyes and the man’s icy blue stare all but showed him the painful night that he was in for.
“Ya might wanna call Chad and tell him that ya won’t be in tomorrow, Eugene,” The man said with a warm, yet alarming smile.
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OneBlazeOfGlory reviewed Version 1 -
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deathspeaker reviewed Version 1 -
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“wip” should be spelled “whip”
You use his proper name quite a bit. Since (so far) i have only come across one main character, you could use some “he” and “him” in thier place. (avoid excessive repetition)
“Puzzled, he looked back into the living room and at the sofa.” I’m assuming the sofa is in the living room, so you can probably remove “and”
“closed it all the way” you repeat this at least 3 times in a small section (2-3 sentences) again, avoid excessive repetition (since this doesn’t really add any drama points to the story.)
You have quite a few sentences that start “Eugene did this-He did that” try mixing them up a bit to give your reader some interesting variations.
This was a fantastic story! I enjoyed every minute of it. Quite often, people online tend to let their hands run away with their mouths…and this piece is a great display of that. Kind of a new urban legend.
Fantastic!
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Tigra reviewed Version 1 -
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This truely gave me the creeps! My god the MC was perfectly constructed and I felt I was there watching him drink his Dew and chewing his cookies. I would have liked to hear more about how the man found him though. Did he have help from others that the MC had harrassed? Did he have information or contacts that helped him track him down? I also would have liked some more description about why the MC harassed these people…how it made him feel. Was it like a high to bully those who he wouldn’t in real life? He is obviously a coward hiding behind false names and email addreses, and you did a great job in showing him as such. I wonder if this is someone you have met on the net?
Great Job
Tigra
SecularProphet reviewed Version 1 -
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“Sitting amidst the glow that the monitor projected into the dark-filled room” I would write: ”projected into the darkness of the room.”
Sometimes I have the feeling you should add a comma to your sentences, like here: ”Eugene placed his black plastic-framed” I would place the comma after black. Same goes for “plastic-covered green sofa”. Comma after covered.
“Eugene clicked his mouse once more to reveal the message and the words appeared among the bright glare of the screen.” I would write “in the bright glare of the screen.”
“Suddenly, who it was became of little importance, as how they got his email was now his top concern.” I would write “how they had gotten his email”.
”...his visual on the car until its tail lights disappeared passed the line of parked cars..” The word “passed” should be past.
As to the story itself – it was a bit cumbersome at the start, full of descriptions concerning every little detail of Eugene’s appearance and apartment. Often these elements were virtually crammed into one sentence, making it hard to read.
For example:
“He placed his can down beside him and removed a pack of Marlboros from the breast pocket of the short-sleeved button down shirt that he wore over the top of a navy blue t-shirt.”
Another example is the part where you describe his way back inside from smoking a cigarette. You’d just finished describing his way out and it wasn’t necessary to retrace his steps.
I’m not saying this was terrible or even bad – it just would have worked better with less, because at the end of the story, with the arrival of Snake-eater72, the story was reading so fluidly that I was barely able to detect a single mistake. After Eugene returned from his smoke, you managed to build up suspense and atmosphere without overdoing anything. It was chilling, even though I could imagine what would happen. Most horror stories are predictable that way – but if they’re well written, we read them anyway just for the kick. Great job!
The idea was original, the story had me hooked and I hope to read more thrillers from you. You seem to have a knack for it.
oknapp reviewed Version 1 -
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hahahahahahah.Bravo love it. This was well written. I love how you describe the little worm hole who has nothing better to do than flamming and spamming up peoples network. According to studies these little worms who do this are cowards and afraid of their own shadows. The only way they can comfront anyone is to get on certain writing sites and call people names and start dissent among the members I say they need all need jobs. I love your descriptions of how he lived in the basement, drank mountian Dew, and waited for his mommie to come back from Bingo. This is a fitting profile for him. You do a good job of making him sound like a wimp. The ending where he meets one of the people he has been threatening is fitting. These things do happen to people sometimes. There is a lesson here. One should never get on a computer and threaten someone, one cannot see. On can never tell when one might get a visit from the dark hood of revenge.
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