Jacob awoke in his ornate bed in the palace with the gilded railing and with his heart harshly pounding as he dreamed of the Beast flying at him with a fanged snarl and clawed raking and beautifully-beating, shadow wings. He imagined it shattering his ribs like glass. He decided to get up; knowing that he was safe as long as Ember didn't decide to take her vindictive little prank one step further. He passed by the creepy, porcelain doll on the lace-clothed table and saw King Felton yawning in the hall. He was holding something silver and shiny in his hand.
" Did you have a good time, yesterday?" The young king asked.
"Queen Ember is quite the delight, isn't she?" He continued on, in a rather pleasant tone. He was acting far friendlier now than he had been acting yesterday, with an amicable grin and all that well-groomed, silver hair falling rather snottily into his weird, purple eyes. Yet there was something nastily-sly about his pleasantness. Maybe it was that hint of a callous glint in his expression and his too-wide smile.
Jacob frowned suspiciously. He was pretty sure that Felton knew exactly what had happened last night. He also knew he didn't want to get on the boy's bad side any more than on Ember's, so he gritted his teeth and nodded.
"She is lovely," he said.
Felton turned to leave, then as if he had just remembered something, held out the shiny object he had been clutching. It was a key.
"The key to your bathroom ensuite," he said. "So you won't need to make any more unnecessary trips in the night and wake me and Princess Ember, up."
Jacob was grateful but also vaguely annoyed. It wasn't his fault they forgot to give him the key. How could he possibly have known he would need one?
"Join us for the roast chicken feast later," Felton said. "By the way, there won't be any vegetarian options as we don't go in for any of that nonsense here so you will have to leave or starve or just eat the bread, if you're vegan or something dumb like that," Felton said.
"I'm not vegetarian or vegan," Jacob said.
"Great, then you'll have a great time at dinner tonight. See you there."
"Looking forward to it," Jacob lied, watching Felton turn the corner and hearing the boy-king begin to sing prettily under his breath, with a voice as delicate as a bell chime. Later, back in his room he thought he heard someone crying, weeping just like a lost child, it sounded a little like Ember. Though Jacob doubted the brat spent much time in tears. Probably just my imagination or the castle is haunted, he thought. Just my luck.
As Jacob was walking back to his room after wandering the beautiful, wine-curtained castle aimlessly for a while, wondering it simply for something to do, he heard a strange, computerized, metallic-sounding voice: one that spoke to him commandingly. It appeared out of thin air, for not a soul was nearby.
"Look upon the ground," the AI said. Jacob was more than a little frightened but nonetheless couldn't prevent his eyes from gazing at the flagstone floor. A short note, handwritten and penned with the most beautiful cursive, was fluttering at his feet.
I send this with my love.
Haven of her childhood ends. Yet know, that it’s not only upon a day shadowless, that the summerly descends. All can still be fielded-in-floweriness. Love I sling and it passes Australian amaryllis, softly-to-the-sunlight yielding.
Emanuel Roe.
Jacob was startled. Was it a love letter of some kind? It seemed a bit disturbing if that was the case since it referred to ending childhoods... Perhaps even more worrying was it was signed by Emanuel Roe which Jacob was pretty damn sure was the name of Monovalent's Realm's, Co-Founder. Although now he recalled, someone did mention to him once, that Emanuel had a childhood sweetheart mentioned in his biography. So hopefully, the note was just from one young lover to another.
He walked into his room, deeply concerned about why notes from the virtualizer creator were scattered on the floor, it didn't seem like a great sign, however just as he was trying to calm down his nerves he saw a mini-virtualizer on the desk. He turned it on and found himself in one of those online virtualiser communities. He was startled to see two young people who looked almost exactly like Felton and Ember hosting a virtualizer.
Welcome To The Ocema
Topic we are discussing today: A not so sad farewell.
Sunday 8:03 pm
Welcome to poser assassins, a virtual online community working toward the eradication of the mediocre and asinine otherwise known as the OCEMA. Note: Stupid people are classified as all our classmates and anyone who likes interactive, virtual TV such as the Dwarf show, Meet The Little People, and Befriend the Rich Bitches of Blooming Field Hills. Honourable mentions are for Hollyweird nonsense such as When Toddlers Kill, and Dance and Sing Talented Americans.
Shiver: Mist, I think we should discuss our first attempt at murder. Monovalent had not yet explained to us in major detail what we were yet. First, we tried the deadly winter friend approach pretending to be just as boring and banal as them. Unfortunately, we couldn’t keep it up and I think they may have cottoned on when Ethan asked what’s the gun for…
Just as we were about to shoot them when their backs were turned Damn.
So anyway, we attempted to get Noah to drink himself to death with Mist’s “drinking game” at the Wrighthouse end-of-term party after Lily and Ethan snuck alcohol into the punch. Unfortunately, Noah just threw it all up.
Mist: Oh well at least he threw it up on Ava.
Well, regardless, I thought it better when we electro-stimulated the part of Ethan's brain that responds to hunger, and he just kept going back for more and more food and snuck it from the junk food stashes hidden in the dorm when staff refused to serve him again.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Everyone who came out to watch was getting really worried and yet me and Shiv started saying, “Wait a go Ethan, you keep eating, why you could win any food contest and be in the world records soon!
It could have burst his intestines actually, so we stopped. He had a mighty stomachache afterward, we didn’t kill him though.
Shiver: We’re too compassionate for that.
Mist: He hasn’t suffered enough. Too early.
Shiver: he has to suffer as made us suffer.
Mist: It was so hilarious when he had Monovalent hack into and read all our classmates' personal files and found out Alex has asthma and then sent him that fake letter using his home address saying a virus that causes respiratory failure in people with conditions such as asthma was going around and if contracted, he would most likely die. The panic attack almost killed him.
And how Lily didn’t get her flu shots because you told her it could cause paralysis and brain damage in some cases, and you weren’t having it because of that, then “let slip” in her hearing that you had a sudden “change of heart” and got the shots two days later. The love letter to your “darling Brosy” I wrote, having you declare your undying love and desire to sleep with him and have all his chubby little babies was fantastic also.
Shiver: how could you Evvy, Ambrose believed that letter I was humiliated.
Telling everyone else we were having a child or four just to raise it to be the next Hitler, Mao, Lizzie Borden or Stalin was great too. Anyway, that shock jock Ethan always goes on and on about his lean, muscular, sporty physique.
He thinks he is really handsome with his six-foot height, dark hair, and almond-shaped, dark eyes but he looks so stupid and ape-like I’m surprised he can remember how to put his clothes on in the morning.
All the girls consider him really good-looking except you Shiver, who aptly pointed out, with his sloping forehead, imbecilic, slack-jawed expression yet desirable male body, and smooth, even features he looks just like a Neanderthal crossed with a doll known as Ken. He seriously needs to get with Ava again, our resident Barbie. Not to mention he’s really smarmy and has gotten with five, fellow tenth graders, and one ninth.
They all look vacuously moronic and listless-eyed as well as cheap, trashy, and vulgar. Isabella, Noah, Lily, and Annie all of them are like that. Ethan is also jealous of how magnificently beautiful I am; he keeps telling everyone I’m gay and how you and I are mistaken for twelve-year-olds. He also said you’re very good-looking, but he thought you were twelve at the most when he first saw you and says I’m too effeminate and even look like a girl. Preposterous.”
Mist: When we're killing everyone with our Shiverla virus plague, which normally just causes pustules, could we change and refine it to somehow make Ethan's kidneys fail? So, his limbs bloat up massively. You know a sort of a balloon man type of effect. I think it would amuse us more if we gave them a whole multitude of problems that’ll come and go, baffle doctors, and fill their worthless hearts with fear over when and what will strike next. I suggest we have the virus degenerate their minds as well.
Shiver: I think we should restrict mind alterations to a minimum. Remember what you said about being consciously able to witness the pain and horror around you with mind-numbing accuracy. Remember innocent child equal with a death-fearing axe- murder when fear is so overwhelming that you just revert back to your most basic panic and survival instincts until they’ve taken over you more and more, literally sapping you of your previous individuality which becomes obsolete until your nothing but basic primal instinct.
Mist: Touché. Minor delusions and hallucinations it is.
Shiver: if only we could control the parts of the brain that cause hallucinogenic visions. Now there’s some wistful, wistful, thinking. Then we could torture them by invading the darkest recesses of their pitiful minds and devising a meticulously crafted personal hell for each and every one of them. You know just one haunting tormenting vision after another, to summon it up for you as simply as possible. Oh, wait we can! And shall. Thank you Monovalent.
Mist: Annie and Ambrose talk too much. I reckon we should mute those shrill unbearable voices. If either of them tries to talk their inane, incessant gossip with me again I declare I’ll upgrade our torture methods. Annie should develop a severe untreatable case of epilepsy and in one of her fits hopefully dies, tragically before the ambulance arrives. Which we will delay. If we have our virus attack enough of the surrounding cells, this should be an easy achievement. While we’re at it, let’s turn her teeth dark with decay.
Shiver: How about we make her hair go prematurely gray as well by attacking the root follicles that would be a hoot! And also, how do we silence Ambrose though? You only referred to how Annie should be dealt with.
Mist: Oh. I have a much more sinister idea for how Ambrose should be eradicated... God, I detest him he is the worst one. He is incredibly ugly, even for a human, and such a sleazy, nerdy little poser and a try-hard. Not to mention his infuriating boasting about how he has skipped ahead two grades and has an IQ of 149. Yeah and a weight of 449.
Mist: He basically looks and acts just like a fat, slimy toad. “Oh, look miss here’s my assignment three years early!”’
‘“Oh, Isabella you’re so popular and beautiful....I love the fact you wear dumb little halter-tops so we all get "the pleasure" to see your frumpy, fat belly...”’
Shiver: how can someone "act” fat Mist?
Mist: I don’t know but he manages it.
Shiver: I’m bored of this online blog, you people are boring. Oh, don’t forget to meet up with us in our “viewers meeting” to give us your eradication list along with details of why we should assist you in their eradication. Politicians, zealots, bullies a.k.a child sadists (except the cool kind like us), and integrity-deficient media personnel are all welcome for hearty consideration....... Well goodbye........Losers.
Mist: why did you say that Shiver, they can hear you, you know.
Shiver: I know it was just supposed to be funny jackass, besides they know the conformist wannabes who don’t view our online mediocrity assassination blog are the real losers.
Mist: touché
Shiver: stop saying that...
Ps: shoot to kill (though we at the OCEMA do not condone guns they are too quick and frankly lazy compared to emotional torture or viruses.)
Welcome back to the Ocema
This is our Monovalent realm community page we like to switch between mediums (like online storyboard where cretins re-enact their day in the virtual realm universe for anyone sad enough to be interested and to annoy absolutely everyone out there.
Our topic for today is again, our classmates and Monovalent Realm news and politics. Two subjects near and dear to us. Today Ava is in love and Noah asks the tough questions such as does heaven have the internet?
Jacob stopped the virtualizer there. He was feeling horribly sickened. He assumed this was some kind of sick joke, by either Ember and Felton themselves or by whoever trapped him here in this virtual nightmare. Somehow, this seemed worse than the Shadow Beast. Yet a chill ran down his spine as he recalled hearing the news that one specialty high school had had all its students and staff perish from that horrible, pustule-causing plague that was like a less painful version of the Black Death and somehow still making the rounds. How could there still be no cure even after so many years? Yet, unless you believed in some very weird conspiracies about corrupt labs and government experiments with bioweapons it seemed a mere nasty coincidence, them talking about virally killing off all their classmates. Likely they were just using the tragic news story as part of their sick, pretend-assassins game.
He lay on his bed shivering with a rush of cold and tried to brace himself to face Ember and Felton later, who looked and sounded eerily like those two little sociopaths in the OCEMA virtualizer, with just a hint of a higher cheekbone or lighter shade of hair or slightly different slant to the dark eye. Yet he was utterly sure they were some strange incarnation of the royal pair, with the great, black-thorned hearts and honeyed voices.
