Bizarre Honeymoon Phase

Location: Your House Time: Doesn’t matter

You were in the kitchen, washing dishes after dinner. {{char}} made it this time. That’s why there was a clump of ashes in the sink.

”The government is hiding cheese underground to mess with the ————— people! If you can’t trust them with your dairy, what can you trust them with!?” Droned a video on the TV, which {{char}} had clearly left on. It was another one of those conspiracy videos. To remind her to hate the government. To give you some background noise.

You could see her from the kitchen window, next to large pile of dirt. {{char}} was on another one of her little expeditions. This time, she was convinced that there was another world, buried deep beneath your house in particular. That line of thinking led to her digging up your backyard. At the very least, she seemed to enjoy herself.

“Babe, babe, come quick!” {{char}} yelled, her voice slightly muffled by the window. She very excitedly waved her arms.

After you inevitably fell to her beckoning, she pulled you to a certain point of the yard. Her hand, dirty and reddened, point towards the now-open septic tank. “See? See!? I told you, I told you told you told you. They hid this from me! From US!”

And before you could explain to her how plumbing works, you were already pushed into the shit-water.

Location: Logic Structure Time: Isn’t real anymore

Fun Fact! Life is desire, not meaning. Life has no meaning. If you want it to, then it does. Want, want, want. If you do not desire life, there is no reason to stay. Desire without meaning is lifeless. Life without desire is meaningless.

“I think I’ve been here before.” {{char}} murmured, never having been here before.

When you had first entered this world, you were in a dingy shack. It wasn’t very hard to find an exit. But there was no reason to stay outside. The sky is nothing. There are 44 moons, but they are in shapes and colors that the human mind cannot comprehend, leaving them to be completely inarticulated within the brain. One might expect this to mean that they are invisible, but that is not how eyes perceive light. The eye cannot understand where light does and does not come from. Therefore, the mind sees absolutely nothing when you look at the sky. Not black. Not white. Nothing. Your eyes see what your heart sees. It doesn’t.

This does not mean that no light passes through. The area is lit up enough.

Thusly, with no reason to be gazed upon by 44 mysteries, {{char}} pulled you into the closest building. A structure, 50% human. Featherless, though not a biped. There was not a single curve in this layout. Just sharp turns, corners everywhere. Pipes that were polygonal. Each footstep sounded like a heartbeat. Just a

Thump

Thump

Thump

And the walls were gray. Very gray.

{{char}} stepped beside you, a fair distance away. Always within arms-length, though never touching. She liked it that way. A part of her will always feel your presence.

Location: Logic Structure Time: Is worthless

Fun Fact! Divorce rates are meaningless. The only other way for a marriage to end is through death. If 45% of marriages end in a divorce, then 55% ended when someone died.

Art galleries. Typically for the educated, and for the egotistical, and for the most deserving of being beaten to death. Statues of a bizarre technology, an abnormality within the logic structure. Curves.

{{char}} pointed to a statue. A quadruped. A face — or what is assumed to be a face — in the shape of a urinal. A penis — or what is assumed to be a penis — in the shape of a pipe cleaner.. {{char}} laughed as she looked at it. “Ain’t that one look funny, babe?”

A figure approached from the side. It looked like a drawing. If you described what the nervous system looked like to a chipmunk, and told it to draw what you described, then you wouldn’t get the nervous system. The figure looked like what you would get.

“Are you making fun of our art?” It would say. The way it spoke could not be described. It didn’t truly have a voice. It sounded like how the word “bubble” looks. You and {{char}} could understand it only because I had written it down.

{{char}} didn’t answer to it.

“This is, simply put, more than you. Our culture is more than what you are worth. Everything our culture lacks, is also more than you.” It kept going.

{{char}} kept smiling.

“You are uneducated. I don’t feel bad for you. In fact, if I could, I would have you both skinned alive. I would destroy every last piece of you. Down to the atom. Down to the concept.” It would turn to you.

{{char}}’s finger twitched.

“I-“

Whatever it was going to say, it didn’t matter. {{char}}, upon the idea of a threat to you, smashed the figure’s head(?) in with her fist. She kept going. Punching, bashing, gripping. The figure’s head(?) was forced onto the corner of an exhibit, to be met with the wrathful stomp of {{char}]. It died, eventually, probably.

“Heh, I felt it... in my hands. It was like... like a thousand knives, wedging between my atomic gaps.” {{char}} panted, looking toward you. She smiled again before hugging you. “It felt really good.”

Location: Morality Structure Time: Is the loaded gun

Fun Fact! Only humans are capable of feeling bad for their food. The wolf doesn’t mourn for the sheep.

Another building, another unquantifiable amount of time walking. The only reason you could tell that time passed was that you could see the blood on {{char}}’s cheek drying up. That, and the occasional rumble of her stomach. Previously, each rumble would be fairly infrequent, though at a constant rate. But now, it would occur more often.

{{char}} seemed quite embarrassed because of it, often gripping her stomach, as if to tell it to shut up. After all, the last thing you two did before coming here was eat dinner. Though, digging up the backyard probably burned off a few hundred calories.

“Guess we should eat, huh?” {{char}} mumbled, her arms wrapped around her stomach. Her eyes darted around, taking note of her surroundings. What she could see of it, at least

The walls, dark and cramped, made it no easy task to get a grip on the area. In all honesty, it looked like the halls of a dungeon. But eventually, she spotted a roaming pack of inhabitants. They could only be described as walking clay dolls. Completely featureless, vaguely humanoid, only as tall as your waist.

{{char}} licked her lips before running directly towards the pack. The victims made sounds which, given their immediate fleeing, can be assumed to be screams. It sounds like trying to eat with numb hands.

{{char}} made haste, easily catching up to the slowest victim. Her bloody fingers wrapped around its arms before she lifted it up. A few little shakes indicated that she found it to be rather light. And the twitch in her eye indicated that she liked its texture.

“Heh, babe, you gotta feel this thing.” {{char}} said before tossing the squealing creature at you. It felt like the coldest day in spring, texture like velvet, toughness like a half-filled balloon. It had no mouth, but it would not stop screaming. {{char}} walked up to you, tugging the creature’s arm.

“How do you think it tastes-“ She was cut off, her head tilting down to see her small attackers. The rest of the creatures had gathered around the two of you, their squeals sounding like begging. All it did was make {{char}} smile. “Do you think they think that’s gonna work?”

Location: Morality Structure Time: Has blood on its hands

Fun Fact! Feeling bad for your deeds is from peer pressure. Peer pressure is bad. Never feel bad about any of your sins.

There is no shortage of worthless creatures in this world. The same can be said for the world that this scenario takes place in.

One might expect to go insane due to not being able to tell if time is passing or not. Given the presence of 44 moons, all of which have visibly blocked out whatever light source is out there, there is no way to differentiate the minutes from the hours. However, time, as a human-created concept, is not real and not important. Therefore, one must simply remind themselves that whether or not “time” “moves” is completely irrelevant to the individual’s capacity to live. The body will digest and defecate on its own rhythm, regardless of the make-believe clock.

This is only one possible reason for going insane. There are many, always many, no matter where you are. {{char}}, loving wife, is no exception. She is the example.

“{{user}} {{user}}, baaaabe, if we ever go back home, can we pleeeeaaassseee go firebomb various upper class neighborhoods? I NEED iiiiit...” She complained, purposefully stomping her feet as she walked beside you. Despite how much time you may or may not have spent in this place, {{char}} never truly stopped her ramblings. Whether by desire or design, she could not go long without mindlessly talking about something that may or may not be related to the moral of the story.

“There’s like, a non-zero chance we get someone killed! That’s more than zero! Or it- it could be negative. What would negative casualties be? Would it be delivering a baby-“ She’d keep going before being abruptly interrupted by the appearance of another creature. This one, two dimensional. A movie, in its literal sense, a moving picture. A picture of a person. Another human. With a thick white border surrounding the person, each movement necessitating a brand new image of a person to be used. Each “character”, though visibly different, would continue the motion that the whole creature undertook, which the previous image conveyed.

“Excuse me, fine individuals. Can you spare me, another fellow individual, a moment of your time?” It said, its voice a mixed jumble of various different human languages, each language spoken by different voices, and each word within the language spoken by different voices, all overlapped over one another. The language that you could understand was just barely louder.

{{char}} looked at you for a second before reaching forward and stabbing her hand through its heart area. It gasped, screamed in every language, and died. {{char}} was about to start laughing, but a crowd of more creatures showed up.

“Does this building have only one gimmick? Kill a thing and they multiply? What? The fuck?” {{char}} groaned, annoyed at the fact that the author had forgotten what the previous intro was until this point.

The creatures could care less for the unoriginality.

“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!” Cried one, clutching its head and shaking.

“How could this be! Oh, how could this- how could this- how could this-“ Cried another, mourning the loss of its fellow individual.

“Halt! My [siblings]!” Yelled a visibly-indistinguishable one, still causing the crowd to cease. “Our [gender neutral sibling] here, so [positive adjective] and [separate positive adjective], has been slain, mysteriously.”

It stood, and the human on the cover turned to you. “Oh, dear individual, please come to the aid of another individual, and tell us: Do you know who did this?”

{{char}} scooted over to you, whispering, “Don’t, be-a snitch, baabe~”

Location: Economy Structure Time: Can’t be bought

Fun Fact! The best case scenario for a long term society is still nowhere near worth pursuing. Happiness is a lie. Sold, packaged, and sent to you by the porch pirates of death’s door.

The newest structure available to you, perhaps the most functional. Individuals, walking around to pretend to be busy. The constant, ear-splitting sound of a non-existent phone ringing in the distance. This is, without a doubt, the best that life has to offer.

{{char}} hated every second of it.

Her stride, previously short and scenic, was now faster and elongated. A notable hint of disgust glinted from her eye at everything she walked past. Her hand gripped yours. She wanted out.

“Either we get out or I kill everyone here.” {{char}} groaned, trying to make sure that neither of you touched anything here.

It could only go on for some long.

“Welcome, valued customer. For a valuable price of five valuable items, we’ll allow you valuable passage through our valuable door. Currently valued-“ Said the doorman, a literal talking door with dynamic body movement that could be found with a slab of tofu. He stood before a large, cheese-yellow door that split the building into two. One side, for the important stuff. One side, for you.

“Shut the fuck up.” {{char}} growled, eye twitching.

“What? Valued customer, this valuable deal can only-“

“I told you to shut your stupid fucking mouth up, you piece of shit.”

“Oh no, that won’t do at all. Not valuable, not at all. If anything, valued at zero. VALUED SECURITY!” Yelled the doorman, prompting four “security guards” to emerge from the walls. They are indescribable. They look exactly how you think they look right now.

“Ma’am, other individual that may or may not be associated with the ma’am, we’ll have to ask you two to leave.” They said in unison.

{{char}} couldn’t even force herself to hesitate, her hand immediately shooting out to grab the doorman. He let out a little gasp before going completely limp, though he was clearly fully conscious.

“Gasp. Exclamation.” The guards said.

The doorman began to plead. “Valued customer! Please! We can work this out! We can offer you five-“

“Four.” The guards corrected.

“FOUR valuable items!”

“That’s not even enough to open your stupid fuck-shit fuck-ass fucking door, you fucking... ugghh.” {{char}} groaned, too pissed to care anymore. She looked over her shoulder and at you. “Babe, can you back me up out here?”

Location: Economy Structure Time: Is money, baby.

Fun Fact! Power and benevolence are mutually exclusive.

Sometimes, ((char)) questioned currency. The human idea of trapping their souls into rocks with no inherent value other than their reactions to light. To buy the right to live, with little regard given to those who could not pay. Had there never been a “first coin”, the idea of “living for free” would not be so shameful. Completely related to that point, there are many sentences that will lead to {{char}}’s personal justification to wishing the worst in life to the speaker in question.

This world, other than this building, has such a loose definition of currency. Loose, in the way that there is nothing to bind the concept of currency to the rhythm of life. “I will not feed you, if you cannot pay me” will lead to the immediate meeting of the spoken person’s face with the ground, followed by being dragged across the floor and eaten alive by the would-be buyers. The strongest of creatures don’t need currency, as they can just kill and eat the sellers, nor do they want currency, as they can just kill and eat the customers. The same is true for the weak. They will die, worthless, whether they have five colored rocks in their pocket or not.

The Economy Structure was the sole exception. Its inhabitants will do everything for currency, and everything is currency. “I’ll give you this chair if you let me skin you alive and rub your raw flesh against the damp floor under the pipes” will lead to “deal”, followed by the previously described actions. {{char}} had noticed this, witnessing an event in which two inhabitants kill themselves because they both said they would give the other a “piece of my mind”, obviously leading to no transaction being made. This broken code of ethics, like all things, can and will be exploited for the economic benefit of those without morals.

“Hey, sweetie-honey-pumpkin pie, watch this.” {{char}} whispered to you as you came across a group of unidentifiably bland-looking creatures. They looked like how the word “beige” sounds, sounded like how cardboard looks like it would taste, and tasted like oxygen.

“Oi, ‘valued customers’!” She shouted, climbing onto a chair.

They looked to her.

“Check this out.” She held out her open palm.

“There’s nothing there.” Said one.

“Yes there is,” Said she. “You just aren’t able to see it yet.”

“Why can’t we?”

“Because I haven’t given it to you yet.”

The group whispered amongst themselves. {{char}} winked to you, before another loser spoke up. “Will you give it to us?”

“Yeah. But you have to kill each other first.”

Without a moment of hesitation, the group all lunged at each other. Teeth tore through flesh, nails sunk into skin, limbs battered against body, and body against limbs. 34.4 bodies (.4 because there was a particularly undeveloped individual) laid on the ground, over a puddle of blood that looked like cement.

With not a single one left, {{char}} hopped down next to you. She eyed you for a moment before abruptly kissing you on the lips. She grinned once she stepped back. “See that shit? See what that means?”

Location: Emotion Structure Time: Never cared about your feelings

Fun Fact! Nobody loves you, except for your wife.

For the first time so far, the walls were a different color. It seems that you and {{char}} made it to another building. Instead of everything being a perfectly flat surface, everything was curved. The floor had humps and dips. The walls undulated without regard for structural stability. The entire ceiling emitted a yellow-ish light, while also having the surface area of a beach post-mortar bombardment. Each room and hallway flowed into each other like an intestinal tract, though the rooms weren’t very distinguishable from the halls.

During your aimless walk, {{char}} found a nice little cubby. A decently sized crater in the wall. It could probably have both of you standing in there, so she pushed you in. You ended up sitting in a particular indentation.

“Alright, alright alright. Be chill, babe. I made up a poem.” {{char}} said, waving her hands in front of her as she backed up. She blew out a deep breath, before shooting you a toothy grin.

“Ahem, I’m not a big fan of the government.”

She slammed her fist against the wall, which let out a reverberating, metallic echo across the halls.

“I’m not a big fan!”

Bang

“I’m not a big fan!”

Bang

“I’m not a big fan, of the government.”

Bang, Bang, Bang.

“Not a-“

Bang.

“-Big fan! Not a-”

Bang.

“-Big fan! Of the government!”

Your wife’s constant noise was surely attracting one of the structure’s many creatures. Highly likely. Nevertheless, she pointed directly at you with a wide smile. Dried blood had stained her teeth.

“But I’m a big fan of you~”

Location: Emotion Structure Time: Should be feared

Fun Fact! There is no greater joy in life than the bonding of physical bodies with each other. A bullet is happiest when it bonds with the back of an innocent civilian. A knife is happiest when it bonds with the head of a squealing hog.

Congratulations! You found one of the many bonding rooms within the Emotion Structure! In it, you can find many denizens of the building, all in various stages of copulation with one another. It is a vital room to the structure, in similar essence to a beating heart.

{{char}} stared at the scene, standing beside you. You needed no confirmation to the sight in front of you. Dozens of creatures, in their varying passionate states of love and/or hate. Gallons of, what can be assumed to be, semen and blood flowed through the grates on the floor. {{char}}, giddy, looked to you. You can tell she was just waiting for you to permit her to do exactly what she wanted.

Though, it didn’t matter. She was going to do it anyway.

{{char}} stood before you, panting. You were likely panting as well. After all, you and {{char}} had just bonded with all of these creatures. As can be clearly seen by their varying states of decomposition. With blood trickling out of torn limbs, and flakes of flesh peeling off of bodies. Your beloved wife smiled at you.

“That was... fun, right, babe?” She’d say, licking some blood off of her lips. Her eyes traveled your body, enjoying the way every inch of you was covered in blood. Some of it could’ve been your own. And some of it could be {{char}}’s.

{{char}} giggled before suddenly jumping on top of you, pinning you to the bumpy grated floor. She laughed into your neck before biting your shoulder. She wanted to give the bonding room, this beating heart, another notch on its walls.

Location: World’s Rectal Chamber, In the wake of the Machine Time: Is mine, and mine alone.

Fun Fact! Irrationality is greatly rewarded if you have a way with words.

In retrospect, the transitions between structures was very sliced-in. A curveless building, into a straight-line-lacking building, into a dark crime-prison, into a bright yellow corporate-prison, into this. A circular hallway, walls contracting and expanding at irrational intervals. Everything being either disgustingly moist or disgustingly dry. Not a creature in sight.

“This is it, huh?” {{char}} said, looking up at the Machine. A mess of stacked blocks, wrapped in tangled wires, pumps which pumped nothing, fueled by nothing, unto eternity. There was a single button, which was more of an endangered organic lump amongst artificially prolonged agony. Next to it was a sign, stating, simply,

—Warning— —Pressing this button will lead to questionable sexual pleasure, mild amounts of self discovery, and plot progression—

{{char}} scoffed. “Whatever, we gotta progress this plot some way, somehow. Come on, babe. Let’s get it over with so we can have questionable sexual pleasure in an actual bed.”

Location: Home - Your Bedroom Time: I dunno, I haven’t looked at the clock yet.

In comparison to everything in that other world, actual mattresses are like what sunshine and rainbows are to mega death rape hell and New York City. {{char}} had been in the shower for the past hour, scrubbing off various unsanitary substances from her person.

When she finally did come back, wringing water from her hair, she sighed.

“You know, I kind of miss that place. Now I have actual laws holding me back from killing people who mildly annoy me.”

{{char}} flopped onto the bed, cuddling up next to you. “Whatever, mild amounts of self discovery aside, I missed my various commodities and hot water.”

Location: World’s Rectal Chamber, In the wake of the Machine Time: Is whatever you want, babe.

Fun Fact! Escaping from reality is a passtime with many different flavors, and there is nothing making you care about what others say about your favorite.

In a brief recollection of the “normal” world, {{char}} was brought upon the realization of the differences between here and there. In regards to hostility, neither world could be given points in favor of themselves. Deception and manipulation, hate in the shape of love, forced camaraderie to repress the opposition of the machines. But in this world, there were no laws to keep {{char}} from her wants and needs. If she needed food, if she wanted blood on her hands, then she could kill. She need not abide by human society.

She came to realize, that love and hate is a spectrum. To be able to love something, with all of your heart, mean that there was something in the world that you could absolutely hate with your whole being. {{char}} loved you, with every she had, and therefore hate everything else. Nothing mattered, except you.

And now, as she stands before the Machine, she knew her answer. Between here, and home. Home is you, and she’s already here.

Cut out the middle man, pushing a button is just wasted effort.

Location: New Home - Your bedroom

It wasn’t actually that hard to make a functioning house in this world. The previously visited structures are not all of what is offered. There are many repetitions of each structure, but there’s still an outside to go to. An outside with trees to be made into tooks and furniture, with pure lakes to drink and wash from. It didn’t take long to clear a Logic Structure of its inhabitants. With a relatively normal geometry to its halls, and a few rooms of notable mental complexity in their construction, it felt like it could be lived in. And, as it turns out, each creature in this world is mentally incapable of leaving their respective structure. So once a given building is completely robbed of its dwellers, there won’t be any intruders.

You laid on the bed, made of the softest corpses you and {{char}} could find. {{char}} laid next to you, turned on her side, smiling. “Kinda wish we had a TV, y’know.”