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| Credit: Google |
He was masturbating at his bedroom desk. He had become addicted to self-pleasure since he had clocked thirteen. The internet had become his haven and pornography his past time. The past three years had been a breeze for him. He didn’t have to deal with the abject rejection that spewed from his parents and the pity that came from strangers.
It all began at his birth.
Everyone balked at his deformity. He had lazy eyes, his mouth askew; resulting in a constant drool of spittle down the side of his chin. His arms and legs were thin and could hardly support his malformed torso. His head was constantly lolling to the side, requiring his shoulder for balance. As he grew up, it didn’t take him long to realize that people were repulsed by his grotesque figure. It wasn’t long before he learnt to keep to himself.
He had asked his parents to remove the mirrors and all shiny surfaces from his room. Even he couldn’t look at himself. Whenever he looked at his body, he was greeted by the ugly, huge splotches like eczema traversing his entire body. He found they were called psoriasis. The only parts of his body that had developed well were his brain and his penis. At sixteen, his brain was as sharp as Albeit Einstein’s and though he hated it, his penis was as huge as Mandingo’s. While most people with a brain like that would have thought of changing the world, he couldn’t be bothered. The world had rejected him and he was returning the favor with a flip of his middle finger as the nice Cherrie on top!
There were two things that couldn’t be taken away from him; his active imagination and libido. Put those two together and even the best porn sites couldn’t match the scenes he came up with. He pulled up dark, painful ways of having sex. His imaginations aroused him so much that he masturbated every day. It started out once a day until he was fully addicted to getting off.
That was his only respite from the life he was forced to live. After all, he couldn’t pretend anymore that the looks from his parents were anything but hurtful. When, at fourteen, he told his parents he could home school himself (using the internet), it was all they could do not to jump in glee. They gladly accepted his proposal to shut himself in his room. Even his personal maid couldn’t look at him without that slight disgust ‘normal’ people gave the physically challenged. One day, he cooked up a plan to see just how repulsive he was to the world. He lay naked on his bed as his maid was about to do her routine. When she entered, her reaction was epic! Though her scream was funny, it showed just how much everyone in general (and women in particular) was repulsed by him. He wasn’t ever going to get laid by anyone, so he did himself. His room was his prison but the internet was his gateway to whatever world he wanted to see.
His family would be having Sunday dinner now. The maid had brought his in and told him she’d see him tomorrow. Her jangling backside in her uniform had set him on edge. As soon as she closed the door behind her, he went to his desk with his body oil and opened his new fetish: lesbian porn. He was slowly working himself to pleasure when a pop-up ad caught his attention.
‘Want to have women flock around you and kowtow to your every desire?’
He stopped his rhythmic stroke and looked at the pop-up again. He moved his right hand to his mouse and moved the cursor to the ad. For a second there, he was torn between continuing his pleasure ride and finding out about women bowing to him. In the end, masturbation was okay but he wanted to bury himself in a woman. He clicked the ad and was redirected to the full webpage: Satan’s Lair. He quickly skimmed through the introduction and perused the website, mentally praising the creators for their ingenuity. He admitted to himself that the moment he saw the domain name, he thought he would see images of what the world defined as demons, but all he saw were well clad people and simple, everyday grammar that anyone could understand. He wanted to exit the page and continue his pleasure when the screen metamorphosed into a slide show of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. The message popped up again, this time, bolder.
‘Want to have women flock around you and kowtow to your every desire?’
At the base of the message was a simple ‘Yes’. No ‘Not now’ or ‘Maybe later‘ nor even ‘Cancel‘. He laughed a bit.
‘The devil is pretty cocky huh?’ He thought to himself as he clicked the ‘Yes’ button.
The page expanded to show a sign up page. Odd. No ‘Sign In’; just ‘Sign Up’. He shrugged and started filling in his details, making sure to fill the wrong ones.
Full Name: John Huge (he snickered as he typed that)
Email: johnhugeD@yahoo.com
Password: **************
Re-enter password: **************
I agree to all terms and conditions
He hovered over the submit button, a small part of him urging him to read the terms and conditions, but he was too eager to see what the site could offer. He quickly submitted.
The screen went blank! No icons, no nothing, almost like he had turned off the computer. He bent down to look at the CPU, and saw that the system was still running. He took his head back up just in time to see the monitor come back on; opening at the sign up page with his details.
Like something out of a movie, his entries deleted themselves, one letter at a time, slowly but surely. His eyes were riveted to the screen, shocked beyond measure. That was when he felt the presence of something malevolent, something deliberately evil and very rotten at its core. He wanted to scream but his lips wouldn’t move, almost as if an invisibly long needle and thread was using his lips as a template for some intricate design. He tried to get up and literally felt a force push him back down, keeping him in his seat. He felt chained to his chair, with his face fixed on his screen. Now that his attention was unwavering, the typing began, one letter at a time and not surprisingly, without the keyboard.
Full Name: Haniel David Osita
Email: scarredman4life@gmail.com
Password: iwantrealgirls
Re-enter Password: iwantrealgirls.
I agree to all terms and conditions
The agreement to the terms and conditions clicked itself and as if to mock his immobility, the page expanded to show the full terms and conditions. There were just two.
TERMS AND CONDITIONS
1. By clicking ‘Submit’, you relinquish your soul to your new master, Damien.
2. You become a vessel for whatever use required by Damien.
He began to struggle, urging his body to physically revolt against the assault. He thrashed with all his might but watched his body remain utterly still. He wanted to call out to other forces, something his parents believed in, something they mentioned when they prayed, or whatever it was that they did. But as the memory of the name came to him, he felt his spirit being choked by foul smelling fumes; rotten eggs. He was choking in his own flesh. When he felt he couldn’t take it anymore, the choke hold let up…and started again. This continued for what felt like eternity until he was too weak to continue fighting.
He watched his hand move to the mouse, and he knew he had to try again. He needed to fight for his life! He gave all he got! The struggle was real; the force field around him pulling him to click the submit button and him pulling – with all his might – against selling his soul. The choking fumes returned with much more vigor, but in spite of all the sputters wracking his spirit, he wouldn’t budge. His life had been messed up from the womb and though he hated it, he didn’t want to lose his soul. He gave his all. He had to keep fighting. The pain in his flesh was like a thousand cattle prods pressing on all his delicate nerve endings. He tried to see beyond the pain, to keep fighting, to hold on a little longer…but it wasn’t good enough. The thing that had taken hold of his body held his hands cupped the mouse and dragged the cursor to the icon…then it applied one more unbearable pressure to him. He couldn’t fight any longer. He gave up…and clicked.
The entire room went black.
(What happens to Haniel? What does one click bode for the Osita family? Find out in RIPPLE EFFECT II (Click Here)
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