Google IRL

Chapter 2: Google is a Pervert

"Come on Google-dude, get ou-"

I suddenly stopped.

The closet was empty; I swear, I shoved him in there 2 minutes ago!
I whipped my head back, jumping to Google's sudden presence.

"I can show you how more useful I am. Just give me admin permissions, and I can complete tasks automatically."
He mumbled something inaudible under his breath.

"No, I don't want my friend to find you. Same with my mom."
The smile on Google's face faded.

I noticed and I couldn't help but feel a pinch of guilt..

"Listen, maybe some other time when your not being creepy and my mom is away."

He grinned with an evil glint in his eye.
I can feel my eyebrows scrunch up at him in disturbance. It was strange how childish and creepy a robot as be.

"There you go, being creepy again!" I threw my hands in the air, groaning in frustration.

"Okay,.....Google," I said with a exasperated sigh.
"How can I be of assist to you?"

"Can you entertain yourself in my closet until my friend leaves?"
Google peers his eyes at me; still grinning.

"I will make-do with whatever entertainment that is contained inside your wooden corridor you call a closet".
He trudges to the closet in a robotic matter, filling his body to make room.
I close the closet doors, jump on my bed, grabbing my phone and text my friend to come over.

My friend's name is Joey. Yes, he's a boy. In fact, I wouldn't really call him a friend.
He's just one of those cocky jocks who I have to work on an essay about Figurative Language with. Although I doubt he'll even help me; all he wants to do for his life is get inside girl's shirts. Ugh

I just play on my phone until finally I hear the doorbell go off.

Ding Dong DING
We have a very interesting doorbell, as you can see -er'- hear.

I trudge downstairs to the door. I can see Joey and my mom have gotten acquainted.

"Why, aren't you such a handsome man?"my mom giggles.
"Mom!" I groan.

Upstairs I can hear tearing and construction sounds. Omg.
I stand there; my mom and Joey just looking between the ceiling and me.

"Must be my phone," I laugh nervously.
Wow, I have been having to lie to my mom ever since I hid Google inside my house.

Joey and I walk upstairs to my room; leaving my mom with a blank face once again.

"Let's get started on this essay- thing already", Joey smirks while we enter my room.

"Yeah", I mumble.

We both sit on the floor getting our books and papers out.

Joey begins to stare at me. I just pretended I didn't notice until now.

"Joey you've been staring at me for nearly 5 minutes, cut if out", I commanded harshly.

"I never noticed how beautiful you look from this angle..", he replies; still staring me.

I turn my head to him. He thought I was beautiful..? No, ...no, he's just messing with me, isn't he?
Or is he?
Is he trying to hit on me?
What should I say? What the he'll should I say?? What should I d-

Joey leans in closer to my face. I couldn't help but just stay there, stiff as a rock.

He removes a strand of my hair. He comes in for a kiss.
What the hell is he doing??

"Get -*breathes* off me!"

He mumbled from his mouth,
"Not a chance"..

I try to push him off of me but his mouth just keeps coming for mine. This kiss wasn't good at ALL!

The closet doors to our left spring completely out; Google comes out, jumps on Joey, choking him!

I remained in my last spot, not moving an inch. I was still recovering from that awful, rough, make out session.

Google keeps his stiff left hand at Joey's throat, continuously throwing hard punches at his bloody face with his right fist.
He finally picks Joey up by his throat; throwing him into the closet and walking in with him. I can hear gruesome stabs from in there; I couldn't see much but Google's muscular back bone.

"Google, stop!" I command after finally getting enough air in my tiny lungs.
His back bone relaxes upwards and he stops with his murdering.

I run over panting.

"Joey, are you o-", my hands cover my mouth as my eyes widen.

His body was in broken limbs and skin; same especially goes for his face. His throat had red hand marks from Google's left hand.

"Google..?", I had no idea what to say..

"Target terminated", Google smiled,
"I handmade an outfit with your exact body size approximately to your likings."

He holds up a dress that was ripped and cloth bits were sewed into the dress that shaped into a "G".

I can see where he says "handmade".

"Thanks...?" I took the dress. The sides were torn; as if it would show more of my skin.

I never thought I'd say this,..
but Google is a pervert..

Hi guys, this book is going through lots of construction at the moment, so things will be changing. Thanks :)