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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Sometimes the stranger knocketh at your door. Nobody opens the door for a stranger in our times. So - more strange stranger would knock at your messenger and offer something interesting.

Submitted: December 03, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: December 03, 2016





By Vincent O’Thorn 




His name was Scotty, for example. His life revolved around the fridge, his PC and the toilet. The chair smelled with the sweat and other abominations, and crumbs on Scotty’s desk going to declare independence. Probably falling into a marasmus, Scotty’s uncle left him an inadequate amount of money and bequeathed his apartment, which completely solved the question of going outside. There are no Scotty’s parents’ ideas – wazzup with their sun. Nobody cares. Also nobody cares about being his friend, surely. Besides his teammates from the online games, naturally. He was the top. He was the best. 

He was alone.


So came the day when the tho’ – that’s the time to change something – flashed in Scotty’s mind. Thought wandered between the convolutions, dived into the gray matter, but Scotty couldn’t identify it correctly, ‘cuz he was very busy wriggling. Breadcrumb and a layer of dirt abused him for the physical activity. The thought tired to wander in the misty consciousness, apply real quad damage to the owner of useless brain. So Scotty woke up. He felt himself miserable, lonely, useless. For the first time in his life, he felt something lacking. 

The mouse’s cursor is moved across the desktop by the will of a fat hairy hand. Beloved messenger was launched. 

-Hi, fellas, do you have conversations with somebody in real life? 

KA-BOOM! They laughed in a different nature. Some sound evoked associations with consumptive hyena, some - with Scandinavian titanium-castrato.No. Of course, no. They was the crowd of dregs of society, outsiders, dorks and dirty imageboard-fags – lost and forgotten. 

Scotty went to the bathroom. For a long time, the door is opened mainly not to get rid of stomached pizza and Coke. The light blinded the weak-sighted eyes and a mirror reflected something resembling a face. Swollen cheeks, puffy eyes, shiny hair with pieces of potato fries, ragged beard, shirt in spots which downloaded from PornHub. 


-Bloody Hell…


There was no chance to strike up an acquaintance in a public place. There was no chance not to There was a chance to scare everybody in a public place in case of visit it right now.Scotty, nevertheless, said goodbye to burgers and returned to the PC. From the throne to the throne. 


All interlocutors put on inactive status. Except one. Nobody added him. Scotty didn’t know from where this anonymous had come. He did not know where this is anonymous. Weird nickname consisted of a set of characters with nothing in common with any words. It could be assumed that this is something from the Serbian language, but Scotty had some knowledge about the Serbian language’s formation, because of chatting with the Serbs on certain themes, from time to time.



-And who are you, freak?


Scotty asked many question but got only one answer – “open”. On the one hand was a anxiety for viruses, on the other hand – Scotty saw no evil in OS-reboot, and a new PC was not a problem, surely. One click and Scotty dived deep. 


Firstly, completely harmless site opened. Very user-friendly resource for everyone - from youth till down. Information expanses of a small college that can give Scotty only boring delectation. Noteworthy was the fact that some pages had been with unreadable text. Probably, some problems with the encoding. But only first thought happened about encoding, yeah. It would be too easy. Click by click, pages’ texts collapsed as empires or Scotty’s hopes to lose his virginity. More and more kanji, a character garbage, an alien writing, and a letter-delirium. The highlander, who was the last in the end, was the link, vaguely reminiscent of the first one, but no longer with onion tail. Here was the site of “blah-blah-blah, dot, acorn”. Scotty was totally not a noob in the Deep Web.The head, which was very tired, betrayed memories about strobes, a downgrade, HOLES. 


-Just do it!


One click, and, as if by the wave of a magic wand, began to load the next site. No special browsers, no special protocols, no salvia divinorum and shaman-dance. 



Scotty sat in utter silence. Even his dyspnea subsided. He thought, then he went from corner to corner, then ordered pizza. The hot and spicy pizza was delivered by pretty ginger girl, but Scotty couldn’t make a conversation in this format. He mumbled words of thanks, put a couple of notes in her hand, dreaming about other things, and closed the door. He didn’t forget about the tips, so the girl had a very good day. With his pizza Scotty back to the PC. He ate and thought. The site looked like someone’s joke, so – he clicked the link. The process of downloading starting and it was proposed to set download folder. Out of habit, Scotty would like to download everything in the folder "unsorted". Button was darkened. The only affordable way was “D:\Downloads\Strongroom”. Scotty shrugged and continued to download. On the PC the huge file received. The file had the extension "rar". Scotty looked at the time - drowsiness grew from scratch. For him, it was still too early. Scotty went to bed in the morning, usually. Assuming that the day was too full of events, he went to his mattress, moved all rubbish, and fell into dreams. 


Sudden awakening. His throat was dry. Scotty searched all around, the cans and bottles – all was empty. Scotty woke up, groaning. Without turning on the light, he went into the kitchen. On the bright-lighted monitor he could see a completed download. 


-Okay. I’ll check you in the morning. 


Scotty wandered further. Then he saw that the door of the room, where he usually dumped garbage, was opened, and all the trash lying around outside. Opossums climbed to his home also before. And raccoons. And hobos. Too many food-rubbish like a vile banquet.So Scotty opened the door, trying to remember – where he keep his knifes or the baseball-bat. He had just remembered that he didn’t have a baseball bat, and the last broken knife sticking in mummified jamon. Turn on the lights and stare through the dirty-yellow light. The light that showed for Scotty the crystal-clear walls of a small cube, which were shining amid the mess like the brightest stars. And only the content was filled with darkness. 


-Hello, Pizza-princess. 









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