Disclaimer: This novel contains adult material including sexually explicit activities, strong language, extreme violence, mass murder, child murder, suicidal themes, derogatory language, and more. This work is not suitable for minors. Reader discretion is advised.
Psycho Bullet Festival 2222
Bout 11: Enter Peatrice
Date: January 01, 2015
Time: 07:11 UTC – 01:11 LT
Coordinates: Oransen, North America from The Malice of Abigale Quinlan
On December 19, 2014, my plan was sprung into motion. I fell asleep in rural Colorado and woke up in Oransen, Illinois. My body was that of a teenage boy, the sun had yet to rise, and my ‘tools’ were located where they should have been. At the end of first period, I began my assault, and what ensued was the greatest school shooting in American history. And the shooter was none other than Jad Novus. A quiet and passive boy. Good grades, good friends, and not a problem by any metric.
As my assault came to a bloody end, I woke up, back in Colorado, back in my illustrious body. But I was not in control. Because that would have been far too dull. I was in the back of my own mind, and my body was piloted by Jad Novus.
For the ensuing few days, I adopted a persona, that of a playful little electric pixie by the name of Peatrice, the personal assistant of ‘Jad’s new body.’ I teased, toyed, and tormented Jad as I helped him achieve his objective within my body. He was frailer than I thought, and he was unwilling to even ‘check out the goods’ as he made his way back home to Oransen. Then, once there, my toiling bore dividends, and his shell began to crack. He began to lose his convictions and, in pursuing the just and lawful route, he only brought himself pain. All until he wound up trapped in a metal box under layers upon layers of military-grade concrete.
There, I broke him. I shattered him, and with great ease, I turned him into my puppet. My puppet of destruction.
“I really am worse than her, aren’t I? I’m worse than Abigale Quinlan.”
As he said those words, tears were already pouring down his face, and his body was immersed in rubble. Rubble of what was once his high school, but it was destroyed by him twice over. Once when I mascaraed in his body, and once after he indulged in my body.
When I was in his body, I killed just over one hundred people. Students, faculty, all perished at my hands, by my weaponry. But Jad Novus, thanks to his efforts, he managed to exceed my work by a factor of 537. The entire town of Oransen was decimated, all thanks to him. All thanks to his human desires, all because of the fear I instilled in him, and he acted upon.
Jad Novus, I would pity you if you were not so… entertaining. You played your role well in my little game, but now… Now your mind is a miasma of chaos. A veritable baccano. Everyone you loved and cared about now exists within your mind, everything they were is condensed in your body. They will never leave you for as long as you live.
Too bad you ain’t gonna live for long. I love your bitch-ass, Yahd-kun, but your story is over! Your life is forfeit, and it’s time for Abigale Quinlan to take her rightful place within her own body. But don’t worry, you will never truly die. I’m not the sort to discard such divine despair. In fact, I may let you see the light of day again… just not for a few years, at the least.
Jad Novus’s thoughts of despair, the constant bitching of those he captured, it all came to an end. Their body— my body— the body of Abigale Quinlan— then stopped degrading itself by wivering amiss rubble, and rose up.
The scrapes and wounds that Jad inflicted on me were no more, and as I looked up at the bright moon overhead, I relished in the quiet, as there was not a sound. No hum of machinery, no buzzing of a lightbulb, not even the pitter patter of wildlife. It was as silent a winter night as I could hope for, and I took this as a moment to reflect on what had happened. To analyze what my life would now be.
No longer could I revel in obscurity. No longer would I be a closely guarded secret of the world’s governments. I was now a public enemy. I was known to the world, and the world, assuming it had even an ounce of sense, would want to see me gone. See me killed. See me removed from this Earth. I could hide away for years on end like a little bitch, or I could build upon this body count, rising from 6 digits to 7, then 8, and then perhaps even 10. My life was forever changed, and I could no longer hide or flee. Now… Now was the time to fight. Now was the time to show the world the malice of Abigale Quinlan.
“FUCK YEAH!!! LET’S GET THIS PARTY STARTED!!!”
As my voice echoed throughout the rubble-riddled remnants of Oransen, I broke out into a sprint, eager to greet the first wave of resistance with a smile on my face.
Date: February 22, 2222
Time: 13:33 UTC – 06:33 LT
Coordinates: 40°N 105°W (Funke, North America)
“Ugh. How in the seventeen layers of fuck did they catch me?” I grumbled to myself as I felt my eyes flutter open.
I had gone from hopping through rubble, hunting for any survivors I could murderize, to being in a bedroom lit up by a snippet of sunshine, wrapped in a set of cozy sheets. A sense of deja vu hit me like a boot to the head as I remembered what happened just a few days ago. But no. Instead of being an isolated, deliberately minimalistic home of my creation, I was in an apartment. An apartment with a sleek clock on a nightstand, a small desk with a tablet computer, and an electronic photo frame on the wall emitting a dim image of a family. A man in his 40s, a young girl, and two… plastic humanoid creatures?
Recognizing that something was wrong, I pulled off my sheets and went over the tablet to see if the internet could give me a clue as to what the hell is going on. I touched it and got nothing, because of course there are security measures on this thing. But what struck me about this tablet was how… sleek it was. It had some weight to it, but it was only a few millimeters thick and far more durable than any tablet I ever touched. Nothing I couldn’t break apart with a thumb, but I could tell that it would survive a one story drop without even a cracked screen.
Next I looked out the window, where I was met with… a futuristic city. Buildings were pristine and rose high into the sky, the cars were sleek and appeared to emit no exhaust, and while the streets were sparsely populated, I saw both people and… plastic humanoid creatures… probably robots.
“Okie-dokie, Abi-senpai, you’ve done found yourself in the future. Whatcha gonna do now?” I said aloud, adopting my Peatrice voice for the sake of entertaining myself.
“Well, my little electric dastard, while I am indeed most curious as to how I got into this conundrum, my ultimate goal remains the same: Enjoy myself. But in order to enjoy myself, I need to know where, and when, I am. And who better to ask than the person whose bed I borrowed?”
“Sounds groovy, my Gee-Gee! As the plumber likes to say, let’s-a-go!”
As I spoke to myself and my other persona, like the psycho I know myself to be, I kicked open the door out of this room. It flew off its hinges and onto the floor, where I stepped on it, pounding my naked feet through the wood with an audible crunch. As expected, ruckus begets attention, and the attention came from none other than one of the plastic humanoid creatures I saw in the photo frame. A creature who, upon further inspection, was clearly an automaton.
“What’s up, scraphead?” I asked, my voice aggressive and loud.
“Are you… a permutation?” The robot asked, its voice synthesized and feminine.
“I have no idea what that means, where I am, or when I am.”
“…I can provide that information, but first, I would like to ask for your name.”
“My name? Isn’t it obvious just by looking at me?” I said as I looked down at my naked body. “My name is Abigale Quinlan. Terrorist extraordinaire. Well, at least where I’m from. …Actually, it is possible that I traveled to another dimension, not just another time. Tell me, does the destruction of Oransen, Illinois, circa January 1st, 2015 ring a bell?”
“I have identified you as a hostile figure. The authorities shall—”
I put an end to the robot’s yammering with a snap of my fingers, causing its pretty plastic dome to pop into pieces.
“Fuckin’ Narc. Guess I’ll just need to find someone fleshier to lay down the haps. And given the noise I’ve been making, a human should be coming on by in just a few—”
I then flicked my eyes across this spacious apartment and at the front door. A brown-skinned man with a bearded face rushed through and his eyes immediately darted past the devilish goddess before them and to the mechanical husk at my feet. They ran, I ran faster, and within 4.2 seconds, my fingers were clenched around his throat, and his body was hanging mid-air.
“What is today’s date— make sure to include the year— What country am I in? And what city am I in? Answer with the quickness or your head will be like your friend-o on the floor-o.”
“I… It’s February twenty-second, twenty-two twenty-two. T-This is Funke. It— It’s in North America.”
“Not sure why you’re using continent names, but whatever… Do you have any idea who I am? And why your little cyber-slave called me a ‘permutation?’”
I loosened my grip on the man and threw him on the floor, stepping on his femur to keep him in place.
“You… You look like Abigale Quinlan. But you must be one of the imposters! The real Abigale would never do something like this!” The man barked with righteous indignation.
“Tell me about the real Abigale Quinlan. Your life depends on it ‘n’ shit.”
“She’s the greatest being who has ever lived! She ushered humanity into a utopian state and even to this day, she spends every waking moment bettering humanity!”
“Sounds like a pompous bitch who was spoon fed moral propaganda and never faced the real shit. If one is born with might, it is their right to use and abuse it.” I said, half-joking.
“I… What the hell is wrong with you?! How could you even THINK of saying something like that? Who even are you?”
“Abigale Quinlan. Though, I appear to be from another world. Heh. Of all the things I expected to happen in my new life, I never expected to be isekai’d. Tell me, Jad, what do you think about this? …Jad? …Heh. It appears that they are not in my mind. How lonesome. I was looking forward to tormenting that sad little boy. Well, ‘boy’, but italicized and in the thickest quotation marks imaginable.”
“What are you saying? Are you Abigale from another world?”
“That is my working theory. Look, if you are going to present yourself before me, could you at least get angry that I murdered your slave? I know that you can probably repair it at the shop—”
“Juniper is a she! She is my friend! Not my slave!”
“Look, if you are going to get angry at me, get angry about something that actually matters. Not misgendering your toys. Drill some sense into your head or I’ll just need to get a rise out of you by destroying something else you cherish. Now tell me, what do you love in this world? What gets you going? What reasons do you have to live, you bearded little nuggerino?”
I then looked into this man’s green eyes. As I did so, I felt something. Or perhaps it would be better to say that I felt and saw something. It was as if I could see an obfuscated layer to his person, something non-physical. Almost like a visible spirit. I focused closer on this ‘spirit’ and what I saw was… despair. Fear, sorrow, regret, and self-loathing. This man, I cared not to know his name, saw me for what I was. A being of mass destruction. Someone who could end his life, end the lives of thousands— which was wet bupkis! I could kill billions, thank you very much.
I saw this despair and… I focused on it. I wanted it to grow, and it did. Dread gave way to a ravenous panic. He was now terrified of even being in the same room as me. Of what I would do to torment and torture him. Of how I would end his life.
“You fear me, don’t you?”
The man could not vocalize an answer. He merely grunted and moaned in terror.
“Can you even imagine what I would do to you? What I could do to you? It’s some scary shit. But you have been somewhat cooperative, so I’ll give you the coward’s way out.”
I leaned down to the wooden floor and Real Booted a chunk of it into a simple knife, which I shoved into the man’s hip. The bone cracked along with his voice, raising two octaves as he experienced the greatest pain in his life. I could not refrain myself from laughing at his suffering.
“Bwahahaha! You humans make the most wondrous sounds. It’s like you want to feel pain. But go on, you have a way out. You just need to do it yourself. With that knife. Go on, take it out and shove it into your—”
Before I could finish my speech, this man— ever so rudely— took the knife from his hips, biting his teeth as the bone cracked even more, before thrusting the knife into his chest, aiming for his heart. His movement was quick, sloppy, and caused him to miss. Instead, he severed a lung, and it slowly, but surely, would fill up with blood. His death was a certainty at this point, but that did not stop him from trying again. This man was instilled with such fear that he released his knife and aimed again, this time ramming it into his left eye. His body spasmed and squirmed as his brain took in this lethal blow. Then, after a few seconds or quivering, he became limp. He became even more of a thing.
“Now then, what exactly was that phenomenon I just experienced? A sort of… Trauma Amplifier? Heh. I can imagine oodles of ways I can make use of this ish— perhaps with the daughter of the father!”
I turned my head and, using common sense, I found what would be this child’s bedroom. The door was locked, but it crumbled into sand with a mere touch of my hand. The wood decayed outward from my palm, while the doorknob fell onto the floor below, letting out a small ringing noise that echoed throughout the apartment.
The room before me was dark, appeared to be empty, but I could hear the faint noise of breathing under the bed and hear the whirling of machinery in the closet.
“Do you people really think there is any point in hiding from me?”
I sighed as I waited a good five seconds for a response before I took the initiative, swung open the closet door, and found a child-sized robot. I grabbed it by the face, went over to the bed, kicked that shit over, and saw a little girl dressed in her pajamas.
“What’s your name, squirt? The sooner your tell me, the better chance I won’t murder your slave right before your eyes.”
“Speak up like your life depends on it. ‘Cos it does.”
“My… MY NAME IS LILY!!!”
“I said speak, not shout, you little turd. Just for that, your buddy here’s gonna get turned into an actual tin can.”
Staying true to my word, I grabbed the nameless automaton and started crunching them into something smaller. I jammed its limbs into its torso, caved its head in, and then planted the tattered husk down on the floor, where I pancaked it with my feet. With a smirk, I looked down at the flattened metal slab and the little girl crying over it. She begged me to stop, implored that I express a modicum of humanity. But I was not human. I was above such trite.
With the metal platter in my hands, I worked my magic and Real Booted it into a tin can… albeit one filled with a hyper-dense metal alloy. I had to conserve 40 kilograms of mass after all, and it was still technically a tin can.
“Here’s your friend, squirt. Let this be a lesson on how to behave when you’ve got a metaphorical gun to the head.”
A loud clunk emitted from the room as I lobbed the can on the floor, but that only made the girl’s waterworks clock into overdrive. I groaned at her reaction and reflected on why I had long-since stopped tormenting individuals with violence. It was just so boring! However, with my Trauma Amplifier, perhaps it didn’t have to be.
I grabbed the tan-skinned child by her blonde hair and brought her to my face. She shut her green eyes as they locked with mine, and looking within them, I could see my own eyes, which shined with a saturated yellow. My eyes were always a shade of crimson. It inspired many titles I wore in my centuries. Yet now, they practically glowed with a color that screamed crisis.
I made a mental note to examine myself in detail, to see if there are any other changes to my body. For now, it was time to feed this trauma, to see the spirit of this little girl. As I looked within her, I saw much the same things I saw in her non-biological father. Despair, dread, and horror, but I saw more confusion. This child, age 8, had never witnessed death or murder. And she simply could not process the fact that her father not only died, but died by his own hand.
This fear, however, was only the surface level. Delving one layer deeper, I saw a greater unrest. An unrest similar to a devout worshipper realizing that what they had believed in all their life was a lie. She had been taught to praise and idolize this world’s Abigale Quinlan. There was apparently a statue of her in her school for fuck’s sake! But now, as this girl saw it, Abigale Quinlan was standing before her. She had just invaded her home, killed her father, and ‘killed’ her Machi.
She was confused. She was having a deep internal crisis. Just by focusing on her mind, just by observing it, her weak composure had melted into a puddle of goo. …Goo that I could reshape into anything I desire. And even though I thought I got my fill of things back during the morning of December 19th, 2014, I didn’t. I wanted a reprisal. I wanted to give this peaceful world something it had not experienced in an excruciatingly long time. And I decided that this girl, that this Lily Orchid, would be my tool to make this happen.
I siphoned all relevant details about this child’s life and formulated a plan. I then spoke to this child, injecting my words— my commands— directly into her essence. Commands that enabled me to shape this clay into exactly what I wanted.
“Peace has ended. The reckoning is now. And for Abigale the Almighty, you shall do anything. You shall indulge in your base desires. You shall cull the Earth of the invalids and ensure only the blessed, such as yourself, are permitted to live. Take the aid of God, blessed one, and kill some motherfuckas like a 16-inch G!”
I then let go of Lily’s face, causing her body to limply drop a meter down to the floor. She rose shortly after falling and then looked up at me. Her green eyes now had a pale lifelessness to them, cementing how glorious a job I did in breaking her.
“Get dressed, ya little shit tick. The divine Abigale shall take you to school, and she will grant you the tools needed to manifest your destiny unto reality.”
“Yes, Abigale!” The child replied, her voice piercing and enlivened, like a recreational murderer right after killing their first human of the night and before killing the second.
Lily then stripped to her underwear, leaving her pajamas on the floor, before walking past the tin can remains of her Machi friend in order to reach her closet. There, she ravenously thrust her body into a dress shirt, pink suit jacket, and matching skirt, before plopping on a pair of stockings and dress shoes.
She looked like a pleasant little cog that would fit nicely in the machinations of society, which raised a fuckload of questions about this pseudo-utopian world. Why the shit does an 8-year-old need or want to wear crap like this? I thought about spinning some new threads for her, giving her a nice suit to match my usual style, but… nah, this was better in the end. She looked cute, and if you’re gonna shoot up a school, you should be cute or sexy while doing it.
In fact, seeing her all gussied up, looking as cute as a button, it inspired me to do the same. I took the dense tin can I Real Booted just a moment ago and began transforming a portion of it into a suit. A yellow suit with white shoes, but no underwear. It felt like a double commando sorta day, y’know?
Once we were all dressed and looking like a fly-ass mama and daughter duo, I grabbed the girl’s hand and started walking out of her bedroom. Her eyes dilated and mouth morphed into a smile as she made physical contact with me. Her euphoric state of being spoke volumes about just how powerful this Trauma Amplifier thing truly was, and sent my imagination spiraling as I thought of different ways to use this… after I took her to school.
I looked to the door out of the apartment, which the father sealed shut as he ran in, likely by impulse. That would be the most sensible way out of this apartment, but the cops, or whatever equivalent this world has, are probably on their way to investigate things, since these cyberfucks definitely narc’d on me. So instead, I looked toward the glass door leading to the balcony, realized that I was only a trim five stories above the ground, and there were some trees to cushion the impact.
I then rammed Lily under my right arm, clutching her like a sleeping bag, before I let out a trio of Snap Bursts, shattering the glass and giving me a clear path to the balcony. With no sliding glass door in my way, I ran, stepped onto the railing, and jumped off, aiming for a tree as I braced for impact. The tree snapped under my weight, but there was enough sway and delay for me to hop onto the sidewalk, no worse for wear. I then took Lily out from my armpit and put her on the ground, grabbing her little hand with mine before walking toward our destination.
The school was about a kilometer away. While I could have reached it in about a minute of sprinting, I wanted to relish the calm before the storm, and learn a bit more about the world I was destroying. So, I asked Lily about this world, and she immediately began talking about Abigale Quinlan.
Per Lily’s poorly constructed sentences, I determined that this other Abigale Quinlan truly was seen as a saint. She ushered the world into a new era by getting rid of money, gave everybody a nerfed no-fun-allowed Real Booting machine, and abolished the idea of nations, adopting a centralized government. I tried pressing this kid for the worst thing this other Abigale Quinlan did, and… she delivered. Apparently, this otherworldly doppelganger of mine wound up killing over 90% of the human population 200 years ago… but that was apparently an accident and she then atoned for her actions by becoming a slave to humanity.
It begged an interesting question. Could I, the malicious miscreant, ever reach a point where I would see the error of my ways? If I truly did rule the world, would I want to rule it justly? Would I similarly atone or— Actually, the fuck am I rapping ‘bout? ‘Course I wouldn’t change my ways. I am ABOVE humans, and have a right to rule this world as I see fit! But despite that, humanity has FUCKED me!
They scorched my ass more times than I could count, injected me with whatever the fuck they could think of, impaled me with whatever the fuck they could find, and shredded my body into dog food. They subjected me to things that would have killed a human thousands of times over, and every time— every time I died— my malice got ever so slightly stronger. That’s not even getting into the time when I was a village rape slave! Humanity has FUCKED me, and I will fuck it until it bleeds!
I made yet another note to do research into this other Abigale Quinlan. Although, if I played my cards right, I would be able to ask her in person. The thought of battling against myself, fending off against somebody with equal intellect and power… it brought a smile to my face.
Right as I began to imagine what such a divine encounter would be like, Lily and I reached our destination. Onson Elementary School.
It was as sleek as a building made of bricks could be, two stories tall, and also devoid of children. Playground was empty, the entranceway was dim, and based on the smell lingering in the air, there was not a human other than Lily within a 50 meter radius. The doors were locked, but they only were for approximately 4 seconds before I Real Booted a key and made my way in.
“Can’t believe they’re still using keys in the future. I get it, they work, but you’re beyond sticking with things just ‘cos they work. You got alchemy machines, robo slaves, and you’re all prolly rockin’ nanomachines in your veins, but you still use metal keys? Kid, you got any defense for your society’s inadequacies?”
“It is one of the many illogical things that shall be cleansed from this world, Abigale. …I cannot express my gratitude to be assigned such a duty. …To have the honor of making your world a better place…”
“Yeesh. I knew I was good, but you are broken, kid. No amount of therapy, or crack, could ever hope to de-fuck-ulate your brainspace.”
As I admired my work, I took note of the perimeter. No alarms were triggered when we entered the building, and no security cameras were in place. At least none that I could see, and I could see everything. Meaning that this was going to be far easier than I had hoped.
“Follow me, squirt. Abigale is gonna place some explosives and extra weapons, and you are going to follow the route she lays out for you. But first, we need a starting spot: The toilets. You’re gonna stay in there once we’re done, hiding and waiting until everybody comes in, and then you’re gonna rack up them MDKz like it’s double XP weekend. Ya dig?”
Lily, the little puppet of my creation, confirmed her understanding by doing a formal bow, before following behind me like a puppy as I went from classroom to classroom, Real Booting and planting explosives. Mustard gas, white phosphorus, shit that was just flat out poison, and good old-fashioned explosives that would burn bodies and fill them with shrapnel. It was a far faster process with my own body, and not the body of an 18-year-old ‘boy’. Before too long, I left a little surprise in just about every room in the building. I also made sure to leave a scattering of simple cameras, allowing me to monitor the action without being a participant. Now, I just needed to prepare the star of the show for her performance.
Once in the restroom with Lily, I sealed the door behind me, ensuring that we had a moment of privacy. I made her an assault rifle designed to be used by someone as small as her, coated her body in armor, and instructed her on the basics of using a firearm. Once she was ready, the bell rang, letting out a pleasant chime and notifying the children that it was time to begin a new day of school. This was the time when the halls would be at their most congested, meaning it was the perfect opportunity to let my little slave shine. We waited until the sound of children was dying out before I took my hand to the remote detonator I prepared and pressed a single button.
The entire building shook as wave one of the bombs went off, and, unperturbed by the piercing noise, Lily leaped off my lap and ran off into the halls. She entered the halls, protected by the most powerful lightweight alloy I could produce, and totting a weapon with the intent to kill. The sounds of pandemonium billowed as people realized what was happening, and the feeble masses lacked any form of reference to handle such an event. Prosperity made them soft, and it made their screams all the louder as the sound of explosion was followed with that of gunfire.
I pressed my back against the door of the restroom as the muffled sounds of havoc played out. And as they continued, I found myself growing excited, enthralled, and most especially… aroused. The sense of destruction, of destroying something precious, was the greatest sensation for me in the world, and it was such a turn on that I could not resist letting my member out to play.
I was born with a retractable dick. A strong and mighty penis closer to a tail than anything possessed by a human. It could lift my body weight, bash somebody’s brains out, and was a whopping 69 centimeters long. It was a secret that had me branded a daemon innumerous times in the past, but was my favorite part of my body, as it allowed me to reach highs unachievable from my pussy or anus. And now, with the sound of crying and screaming kids behind me, it was time. Time to masturbate!
I pulled out the tablet I Real Booted to monitor my cameras, and searched for the action with one hand while clenching my dick with the other. What I saw was the sight of horror. Of people struggling and failing to understand the reality before them. Of calm dying in the presence of panic. And of children looking at death for the first time in their brief existence. People fell over and died as their lungs filled with toxins. People were mutilated into mere things, their faces beyond recognition
The screams behind me matched the imagery in front of me almost exactly, and just as the sense of dread and confusion was settling, just as the robot slaves were calming their masters, she started opening doors and carrying out her orders.
Lily moved swiftly and methodically, spraying to stir panic before aiming at the cluttered masses. Machines fell as their exteriors were lined with holes, and circuits were shattered by lead. While humans groaned in agony as the blood poured like wine, staining the floor and all around them. It was amazing— seeing something stop as a bullet pierced their heart, spine, or brain, before falling onto the floor bereft of life. As one body fell, all around it froze, unable to process what they were seeing.
As the horror settled, it gave way to sorrow, to a litany of tears and crying as the children realized that this was real. That they were going to die. That the society they trusted to protect them had failed.
As she made her way through the school, more and more students and staff attempted to flee. They ran through the halls, hapless and flushed with fear, before Lily sprayed them from afar. They futilely bashed their hands through the rubble that blocked the main entrances. And the wisest ones fled from windows, leaving behind trails of piss as they sought the salvation of the outside world. It was a sight I admired, but it was not what spoke to me, or my dick, the most. What spoke to me the most was the aftermath. The classrooms lined with corpses of students, with walls penetrated by gunfire, and floors garnished in the remnants of dead children whose faces wore expressions of pure terror.
Why did this speak to me so? Because it was a sign of dominance. Of power. Of my triumph over humans. They were dead on the floor, while I was here, laughing while choking my rock-hard cock. And it was as I laughed, as I rejoiced in how easy it was for me to cause such despair and devastation, that it happened. I came. On my fucking face.
My sweet honey-like cum shot in bursts, lathering my skin and flowing through my hair. I sent my tongue to clear my lips before my hands cleared my eyes of the substance. I then brought my hands into my mouth and suckled my juices as a special sweet post-orgasmic treat. Upon cumming, my dick receded into my pants once more, and I went over to the nearby sink to clean off.
Before turning on the faucet, I looked at myself. My banana-colored suit was no worse for wear, my eyes were a piercing yellow, and the cum painted my face in a golden hue. I looked like the psychopath I had long-since considered myself. One who was above trite like morals. And this was the face I wanted to show to the world.
Without washing my face or even zipping my fly, I thrust my body against the brick wall of the restroom and made my own door— because I could. My nostrils flared open as I was exposed to this sight, and I was met with the scent of toxins, gunpowder, sulfur, and, most of all, blood. Blood that seeped from bags of slowly decaying flesh that once belonged to a person, but was now a mere thing. A thing that I stepped through without care, painting my white shoes pink. I sauntered from room to room as the sloshing sound of bloody tile followed with every step. I saw no survivors in any of the rooms I passed, but as I made my way through the corpse-riddled open staircase and up to the second floor, I heard the cries of survivors once again.
However, before that, I heard metal hitting flesh and tile. Inside a room recently painted a distinguished crimson, I saw a small figure that blended with the world around her, holding a chair above her head, before swinging it down at what used to be an android. It ceased functioning, but the figure kept bashing it again, and again, and again.
“Lily, you little cunt muffin! You are supposed to maximize your Murder Death Killz! There’s no overkill bonuses, ya overgrown zygote! So do your Christ figure a solid and up your counter!”
Even as I berated her, she did not turn around. Meaning that either she was stupid or truly broken— not that there’s a real difference between the two. Still, being the curious chap I was, I took the chair from her hands, flung it through a window, and grabbed her by her helmet… only to realize that it was cracked.
With a groan, I Real Booted her helmet into water, which washed a layer of blood off her body, and allowed me to look at her face. Her forehead had a gash in it, she was missing an eye, and as she opened her mouth, I could tell that she had lost four baby teeth since I last saw her.
“Mach-tuh Abigale, I wuv you so moo… shoo. Doooo I ‘ave da brusheeng?”
Her words made her sorry state clear. She fucked up somehow. Probably got too close to an explosion or some shaz. And seeing as how she would not be of any further use to me, I only had one true option. Put this little puppy out of her misery.
“Do me a solid and kill yourself. Here, take this,” I said as I Real Booted a knife from some robot corpse.
Lily, still under my influence despite her head trauma, looked up at me with a crooked smile as she grabbed the knife and brought it to the back of her head, slamming it squarely into her brainstem. Her smile froze as she made a final gasp… before she fell forward, planting her face into some bloodied tile.
“Aight. I think that’s a W in my book. Just need to take care of the riffraff and then it’s time for the next phase: Mass Destruction!”
With cum still dripping from my face and staining my yellow suit, I left the classroom and moseyed on through the rest of the classrooms, letting my fingers do the intimidation as I poked my head from room to room, popping heads like overgrown tomatoes and taking mental photographs of the carnage, of children slathered in viscera and machines struggling to calm their masters.
But right after I passed through the library, sussing out any fools who thought that they could hide away and wait the bad things out, I heard the sound of metal pressing against tile, and turned my head to see some resistance. Individuals clad in armor that granted them anonymity, wielding firearms aimed directly at me.
“Put your hands up! You are under arrest!” A faceless voice said in a synthetic tone.
“It’s cute that you think you can stop me. And I guess the government here is so lax that they have actual machines working to uphold peace and order. How cute. Do you know who I am?”
“You are a permutation of Abigale Quinlan. One that is to be contained and secured before the original arrives to deal with you.”
“Uh-huh. And how do you plan on doing that? In case you couldn’t tell, I’m crazy with a box of pork fries dressed in giraffe cum. I just shot up a school full of kids ‘for teh lulz’. You think you have a chance of detaining me?”
My words were met with no response. These machines knew they were beaten before they got here, but they still made the gesture. They still assumed there was a chance that I could concede to them and give up before I caused more destruction. Well, I didn’t want to break it to these scrapheads, but I was just getting started.
“I guess this conversation’s over. I’d say see ya in Hell, but I don’t think they’d let either of us in. Bye-bye!”
With that decree, I plucked a pile of picture books from a shelf and transformed them into a handheld bomb that I swiftly unpinned and threw at the gaggle of machines before me. They tried to contain it, but the electrical current spread through the entire group, and the robots all fell flat on their face, presenting their bodies to me. I smirked as I admired my work before bringing my feet to their heads, crushing them with a single blow.
“Well, that’s that. Time to blow this soda joint and hit up something better, like a true go-getter.”
I left a small parting gift before I went. Just a little something to say adieu to this alternate universe rendition of Funke, Colorado. A 50 megaton nuclear bomb. I gave the weapon a timer so that I could get away and admire the fireworks from an optimal viewing angle. But before I could input a time, I heard the sound of metal and plastic slamming against the floor, and turned my head to see a Machi. Their legs were missing, they only had one arm, but they were still pulling themselves toward me.
“Alright, broheim, dish it out or get dished. I’m in the middle of leaving a little pressie for y’all Funke folks, and I don’t got time to wait. Lay it down nice and simple or I’ll lay you down, quick and simple.”
“Who… are you?”
“Abigale Quinlan, duh. But perhaps that might not fly here. I could go with some of my old pseudonyms. Y’vonne Hemming, Maple Suzuki, but here… just call me Peatrice. Yes, I think Peatrice is the identity I should wear in this world. I am feeling awfully playful at the moment, so it is more than appropriate. In fact… robot, are you recording me at the moment?”
“Good, then I suppose it is time for me to truly and fully introduce myself, but first…”
I Real Booted a hand mirror from a table nearby to look over myself. The cum on my face had gradually dripped off, leaving a light sheet across my visage and in my hair. My yellow suit was stained with brushes of blood and my own spunk, and my white shoes were now a brownish pink. I looked like a freak. A true pink-blooded psycho-fuck. And that’s precisely the brand I wanted to rock at the moment.
“Greetings, world. You know me as a permutation of your precious Abigale Quinlan. But comparing me to her… that is a disservice to both of us. While I would love to claim that name, my true name, for myself, for the time being, you may refer to me by my other name. Peatrice. By now, you’ve probably heard about my debut. The attack on Onson Elementary School, located in Funke, Colorado. However, this is a mere taste, a sample of what I am capable of, and what I shall wrought upon this world. Where will I strike next? Well, where is the fun in that? Let’s just say that my second action will be far more… explosive.”
With a snap of my finger, the crawling robot’s head popped open like an overheated PSU. I did not bother to relish in the sight of a destroyed electronic, and instead finished the preparations of my bomb, setting a timer for 22 minutes and 22 seconds. Because something about that number spoke to me, and it would give me just enough time to make my getaway…
13 minutes later, I had torn down a brick wall and escaped to the open field outside the school, tearing up the ground below to create a one-person military grade aircraft. Precisely what I needed to escape this place before this world faces its biggest tragedy in about two centuries. A smile danced across my cum-free face as I finished this creation, turned the sucker on, and let her purr. Without a proper runway, it was a tight squeeze, and following some close encounters with a few buildings, I was soaring high in the sky, looking down at the city of Funke.
It was a beautiful place— far better than the rundown husk it was in my world— and I relished in the joy that I would be the last person to scope out this city before it went kaput. And just as I soared beyond city limits, I looked outside with my shades on and saw it. The great big kaboom. The sight of billowing fire, smoke, and waves of radioactive destruction that tore down these proud buildings and murderized their inhabitants. The sight of seeing so much infrastructure, so many lives, and so much value be reduced to rubble… It made me want to whip my dick out and go for round two.
Instead, I restrained myself and busted in my pants, letting the sweet sweet honey course through my lemon colored trousers, staining them with my juices and seeping into the seat below. As I wallowed in my afterglow, I wondered exactly how many people I killed, but that was something I could research at a later time. For now, before this world’s Abigale Quinlan confronts me, I have a simple mission to pursue. Crush, kill, and destroy.
Oh, but where in this new world would I go? I only had so much playtime before my other half came to ruin my fun. I could have gone anywhere, and I decided to follow a feeling in my gut. A biological impulse that reminded me of one of the more successful attempts to contain me by severing my body into pieces and scattering them across a nation.
It was irrational, but something within my body spoke to me— urged me to head to the northeast. I had a destination, but I did not intend to just fly over there, when I could destroy even more. With tons o’ fun rocking in my hanger, ready to be dropped, I would leave a trail of destruction wherever I went. Now I just needed to wait for the next city I could find, drop my load, and keep on soaring. All until I found some place worthy enough of my next assault. Or… perhaps… someone!
Psycho Bullet Festival 2222 Main Page
Bout 01: Enter The 2-2-2-2
Bout 02: Enter Raiyne Underwood
Bout 03: Enter Abigale Quinlan
Bout 04: Enter Miss Flare
Bout 05: Enter Terra Flare
Bout 06: Enter Verde Dusk
Bout 07: Enter The Righteous
Bout 08: Enter The White
Bout 09: Enter Nari
Bout 10: Enter Punky
Bout 11: Enter Peatrice
Bout 12: Enter Jad Spencer
Bout 13: Enter The Genociders
Bout 14: Enter The Destruction
Bout 15: Righteous X Genociders
Bout 16: Raiyne Underwood X Punky
Bout 17: Terra Flare X Genocider Jad
Bout 18: Verde Dusk X Peatrice
Bout 19: Abigale Quinlan X Nari
Bout 20: Black Righteous God X White Genocider Daemon
Bout 21: Enter Shin Abigale Quinlan
Bout 22: Exit The 2-2-2-2