A person I know somewhat said to me a while ago – “why don’t you write prose?”. I wasn’t that keen on the idea; I do write for the fuwazette, after all, and it’s been a while since I last picked up the proverbial pen. But hell, I’m bored tonight and feel like something a bit more expressive than usual.
As one might expect of a story from a relative noob such as I, it will be a blatant self-insert. I’m not planning on having any magical love interests or such though, so don’t worry too much about it.
It’s also not finished, because man would that be annoying to do. Plus it keeps you motivated to keep writing, sometimes. I have actually kept up a fiction series for like four chapters or so, so it’s not doomed to failure from the outset. Feedback, even if harsh, would be appreciated.
I’ll probably go back and ninja edit this tomorrow or something. I’m kind of too sleepy right now… Well, well. Without further ado, I present to you:
The Curious Case of the Revelation in the Morning
Let me tell you my story.
Wait, did I get that quote right? Fuck, I need to play FFX again I honestly can’t be arsed to look it up.
Well hello there, invisible audience. I hope you’re enjoying the narration. Got into this habit quite a while ago, loneliness and all does that shit to you. Not that I feel very lonely these days, though maybe that’s just because I don’t think about it well fuck I feel lonely just because I thought about that yay. Oh, that last sentence was what’s called stream-of-consciousness writing, by the way. Or shitty decisions about punctuation. Pick one.
If you want to know what I’m doing right now (probably not, oh well), I’m lying (fuck the lying/laying thing, shittiest verb in English ever. Slight exaggeration) on my bed, embracing eternity. Uh, I mean contemplating eternity. Look, I was making a Mass Effect reference there, stop hatin’ already. Well, whether or not there is an eternity (this is a ONE reference, you should probably read it if you can stomach the art), the white roof of my room is proving rather uninspirational.
I should probably have walked to a grassy field or something, laid down (fucking shitverb VIOLATED bitch), and watched the clouds split and merge, forming ever-changing shapes, floating without care in an azure sky and oh god I should probably end this sentence now.
Pity it’s winter outside.
February. I kind of want to say “a shit month if there ever was one” here to continue my cynical whining streak, but the truth is I don’t give much of a fuck in the first place due to my borderline-hikikomori lifestyle and it’s not all that cold either compared to the real shit month of January, which can die in an ironic fire right now, please.
Alright, partial infodump complete, muchas sumimasen nasai y’all. Please note that I know using nasai there is wrong (look, some faggot is sure to fuck with me if I don’t do this. Sorry for spoiling the effect and all that jazz.) Anyway, I promised to end the infodump, so I’m getting out of bed. Everybody clap now (this is a reference to that song which is not in fact named “Everybody Dance Now” but might as well be).
*Zakamutt gets out of bed*
Now bitches, we’re going to be changing up the tense here. Fasten your seatbelts, because I’m about to take you on a motherfucking TEMPORAL RIDE.
After getting up, I grabbed my bathrobe (I enjoy sleeping in the nude. Makes fapping easier, among other things.), opened the door, and turned on my desktop computer’s monitor.
Unfortunately, I quickly realized that I needed to shit as I felt a turtle head (look it up on urbandictionary) had just been waiting for its moment to arise (reference to some folk song with a blackbird in it which was sung by the beatles and shit) (should I stop listing my references? Fuck, I’ll just change these to footnotes or something later if I can).
I quickly got my ass on the trot after making sure everything would go better than expected, and equally quickly realized that I should probably give an actual description of the room I was in. Alright, shit’s a tiled room, floor a pitted light blue, walls smooth white with a blue stripe running at about shoulder level for an average member of the Swedish master race.
A washbasket stood in front of me, a bulky white washing machine to the right of it. Wooden door to the left, shower (behind a flower-patterned curtain) far right, sink near right, thin, tall shelf snug to the wall at two-thirty o’clock.
Place smelled unpleasantly spicy courtesy of the wonderful ventilation system provided by our modest three-room flat. The toilet seat didn’t quite fit the bowl. Why didn’t we keep the old one, anyway? Well, at least the new one wasn’t like the new showerhead. God that one was a fucking disaster.
After finishing up and finding that things had indeed went better than expected, I sniffed my hands and realized that at this point, I might actually be sufficiently arsed to wash my hands. Sorry to gross you out man, it’s a self-insert, okay? Wait, that just makes it worse.. oh god whatever fuck it.
Anyway I went to wash my hands, looked up at the mirror mounted into the front of the medicinal cupboard (well shit, forgot to mention that one), and realized I had no reflection.
This was a rather outrageous situation, and indeed, I found it hard to accept. I looked at the mirror from different angles, made sure other objects reflected in it, got out of the room and looked out the window and dug out the mirror mum uses to put on her eyeliner and filled the sink and checked for any reflection there too then I tried the other window then a third one and eventually I just had to come to terms with the fact that I most likely either had a mental condition or no reflection and frankly I kind of liked fantasy literature so in the end I settled for the somewhat more unlikely explanation that I had turned into a vampire or something or wait had I been one from the start?
I checked the bathroom mirror again. My reflection was conspicuous only by its absence.
Next, I confirmed that I had a shadow (this was a relief, though I also wondered if it would be some kind of mystical weak point, and started Googling (note the capital G there to placate google oh shit I just refused to capitalize the actual company name take that bitches oh god I have no reflection.) for info on vampires and other kinds of mythical beings that might not have a reflection or whatever. I also did a brief manual check for any physical presence of elongated fangs, which turned up negative.
After opening just under nine thousand tabs (slight exaggeration), I took to the IRC because where else could I possibly whine about this unexpected frightening development?
guys I just checked a mirror and I have no reflection
look I wish I was kidding
I seriously mean it
do you like advise I go to a psychologist or whatever?
this is a pretty ridiculous issue anyway lol
if some random Swede pulls a knife or whatever you can always say you knew about it first
I don’t have any plans to do that though dw
Realizing this avenue of consolation was unlikely to provide much in the way of results, I focused my efforts on research. Turned out that everything on the first page of search results was about vampires (though some mention of other monsters could be derived from a quote, but I didn’t consider that all that relevant).
I had probably turned into a vampire.