Post by h4ck3r on Jun 24, 2012 14:40:36 GMT -5
Come on ... come on you beautiful genius ...
You went an- agh! ... destroyed me, turned me into H4ck3r ...
You comple- OUWWW ... argh ... completely ruined, uh, ... my life.
You’re the reason I’m si- ... erhh ... hugh ... sitting here ... with blood-soaked wounds ... all over ... my body.
Thank you very ... very much for that.
C’mon William, get up. The least you can do is find the strength ... to get my arse up from this gutter ... and ... and find yourself a doctor.
Have I mentioned how much this hurts?
Hopefully ... hopefully all the other NYCCW employees don’t hate me for what I’ve ... ugh ... done.
Hopefully, I won’t ... eh ... eh ... ARGH! ... Hopefully I won’t lose my job as general manager for this ...
... who am I kidding? Of cause I’m going to lose my job for this.
I can’t go to the hospital. I can’t face the shame.
I need to ... ARGGH!!! Fuck this HURTS! ...
I NEED to go home.
I NEED Jane, she’ll know what to do.
She’ll know how to ... urgh ... heal me up.
But ... but ... everyone now knows who I am. She must know by now ... too.
I don’t know if I can be H4ck3r AND William Turner ... for so long I’ve sep-URGH-rated ... seperated ... the two.
I’m not a villain, I swear. I’m not! Ouch ... let’s take a look at the wounds.
I pull back my hood, revealing messed up sweaty hair from the fight only twenty minutes prior to this moment. I begin to stare at my hands. They’re covered in blood with painful cuts in various places, the barbed wire really did a number on my hands.
I begin to slowly unzip the top of my H4ck3r costume, unable to hold on tight to the zip because of the pain. I finally unzip my gear and almost blossom from the dark murky blood-soaked clothing like a white rose from the black petals surrounding it. I take a look at my body, finding bruises all down my abdomen and stomach, a few cuts in my chest and long horizontal cuts all down my arms, looking much like the wrists of a pathetic emo teenager.
I leave the torso gear open, like a jacket, before I throw it to the ground, revealing an open tight black hoodie underneath. I zip the hoodie up and begin to stumble towards my home. I have to get home.
Jane, she’ll be expecting me.
I can only imagine how she must feel now, seeing her husband-to-be revealed as the hooded hacker behind the string of life-ruining moments aimed at Drake Hunter. She must know by now. She simply must.
I stagger towards a lamp post, so proud of how far I thought I had come. I look back and see my clothes no closer than one foot away from me. God, I felt like I’d run a marathon just then ... but I only walked one foot. Jesus ... I’ve got a long walk ahead of me.
I limp off into the night, struggling to stand. I rest on every lamp post and street sign I can find, I just didn’t have enough strength to walk. I was exhausted, I was hurt and I was shamed. I just need Jane, she’ll make everything alright again.
HALF AN HOUR LATER ...
Half an hour later, I find myself at my apartment building, unable to stand. I slowly make my way into the building and collapse into the elevator, making my way to the seventh floor. I fall out of the elevator just a minute later, hitting my head off of the floor, rolling up into a ball and trying to stand once more.
I couldn’t stand. I was too exhausted, so I crawl to my door, now realizing I had to knock. I tried, I knocked with little-to-no strength at all.
Amazingly, Jane actually heard the almost silent knocking and opened the door to see who would be knocking at this ungodly hour and at such hast. I had passed out by this time, face deadweighted onto the welcome mat.
Jane
“William!”
Jane cries out and sheds a few tears at my battered appearence. The last thing I hear is her cries, the last thing I feel is her tears slipping onto my skin as she holds me tight and proceeds to pull me into our apartment.
What have I done?
You went an- agh! ... destroyed me, turned me into H4ck3r ...
You comple- OUWWW ... argh ... completely ruined, uh, ... my life.
You’re the reason I’m si- ... erhh ... hugh ... sitting here ... with blood-soaked wounds ... all over ... my body.
Thank you very ... very much for that.
C’mon William, get up. The least you can do is find the strength ... to get my arse up from this gutter ... and ... and find yourself a doctor.
Have I mentioned how much this hurts?
Hopefully ... hopefully all the other NYCCW employees don’t hate me for what I’ve ... ugh ... done.
Hopefully, I won’t ... eh ... eh ... ARGH! ... Hopefully I won’t lose my job as general manager for this ...
... who am I kidding? Of cause I’m going to lose my job for this.
I can’t go to the hospital. I can’t face the shame.
I need to ... ARGGH!!! Fuck this HURTS! ...
I NEED to go home.
I NEED Jane, she’ll know what to do.
She’ll know how to ... urgh ... heal me up.
But ... but ... everyone now knows who I am. She must know by now ... too.
I don’t know if I can be H4ck3r AND William Turner ... for so long I’ve sep-URGH-rated ... seperated ... the two.
I’m not a villain, I swear. I’m not! Ouch ... let’s take a look at the wounds.
I pull back my hood, revealing messed up sweaty hair from the fight only twenty minutes prior to this moment. I begin to stare at my hands. They’re covered in blood with painful cuts in various places, the barbed wire really did a number on my hands.
I begin to slowly unzip the top of my H4ck3r costume, unable to hold on tight to the zip because of the pain. I finally unzip my gear and almost blossom from the dark murky blood-soaked clothing like a white rose from the black petals surrounding it. I take a look at my body, finding bruises all down my abdomen and stomach, a few cuts in my chest and long horizontal cuts all down my arms, looking much like the wrists of a pathetic emo teenager.
I leave the torso gear open, like a jacket, before I throw it to the ground, revealing an open tight black hoodie underneath. I zip the hoodie up and begin to stumble towards my home. I have to get home.
Jane, she’ll be expecting me.
I can only imagine how she must feel now, seeing her husband-to-be revealed as the hooded hacker behind the string of life-ruining moments aimed at Drake Hunter. She must know by now. She simply must.
I stagger towards a lamp post, so proud of how far I thought I had come. I look back and see my clothes no closer than one foot away from me. God, I felt like I’d run a marathon just then ... but I only walked one foot. Jesus ... I’ve got a long walk ahead of me.
I limp off into the night, struggling to stand. I rest on every lamp post and street sign I can find, I just didn’t have enough strength to walk. I was exhausted, I was hurt and I was shamed. I just need Jane, she’ll make everything alright again.
HALF AN HOUR LATER ...
Half an hour later, I find myself at my apartment building, unable to stand. I slowly make my way into the building and collapse into the elevator, making my way to the seventh floor. I fall out of the elevator just a minute later, hitting my head off of the floor, rolling up into a ball and trying to stand once more.
I couldn’t stand. I was too exhausted, so I crawl to my door, now realizing I had to knock. I tried, I knocked with little-to-no strength at all.
Amazingly, Jane actually heard the almost silent knocking and opened the door to see who would be knocking at this ungodly hour and at such hast. I had passed out by this time, face deadweighted onto the welcome mat.
Jane
“William!”
Jane cries out and sheds a few tears at my battered appearence. The last thing I hear is her cries, the last thing I feel is her tears slipping onto my skin as she holds me tight and proceeds to pull me into our apartment.
What have I done?
