9 AW (2015 CE)
The city of WattLand is asleep, dreaming dreams of worlds yet to be written. But deep in the dark, dank bowels of Wattpad HQ, within the asylum located under the capital's Palace Of Writing, the screams of the deranged echo throughout the labyrinth, bouncing from wall to wall and into the ears of CrazyTown's many guards.
"Long damn night," @SpiritOfNevermore119 says to the other guard, a hulking man with his uniform torn to better expose his killer abs.
"Uh," @TotallyAMan_Baby grunts in response. He writes love poems after his shifts end. He's gathered over twenty thousand million reads so far, and each day he's the recipient of thirteen trillion private messages from various desperate WattLand ladies.
One patient throws a handful of feces into the cell across from his. The poo splatters against the bars and the other patient starts to sob.
Just a regular night on the job.
"I wish they'd stop doing that."
"Uh." He decides his next poem will deal with the subtleties of snowflakes, and how each individual love is just as unique, sui generis.
"Don't they understand we're the ones who have to clean up their crap, wash their butts, that sort of thing?"
"Uh." And maybe he'll pick up a box of roses for @Daphne_Hotstuff, his girlfriend and soulmate. All the other girls who try to get his attention are doomed to fail, destined to a life of desperation and hopelessness. @Daphne_Hotstuff is his one and his only, his perfect match, the other half to his heart of hearts and soul of souls. His forever and his always.
"I just wish they could be more respectf—" @SpiritOfNevermore119 never finishes his thought due to a sudden, ear-piercing scream.
There's a commotion coming from behind. Heavy footsteps descend the staircase. Animal shrieks arrive alongside them. Two guards turn the corner, their arms occupied by a young, unshaven man who is howling about making monsters and his wild creations coming for him, demanding him to give them his still-beating heart to feast upon.
"Don't you see!?" the young man asks, his wild red eyes rotating around and around, seeming to settle on the apparitions his mind is conjuring. "They're here! Within our own minds! Fighting for our souls and claiming them as their own! They'll kill us all, man! They want our blood and our brains! They want to slurp on the marrow in our bones!"
"Calm down," @greatwhiteDubbleDash says to him, giving him a comforting shove.
"Who's he?" @SpiritOfNevermore119 asks the two new guards.
"@PhonerionBallznevsky," @ArmageddonSquared answers.
"I've read some of his stuff. Very weird. Unique. Funny at times, freaky at others, always odd. What happened?"
"Some sort of psychotic episode," @greatwhiteDubbleDash reveals. "Lord WattPad wants him rehabilitated. As soon as possible."
@SpiritOfNevermore119 nods. "Can do. Wuddya think, @TotallyAMan_Baby? Put him in with the poo-flinger?"
"Uh." He's contemplating whether a single box of roses will properly illustrate the extent of his undying love.
"Yeah, put him in Cell 711," @SpiritOfNevermore119 answers himself. "Poo-Flinger could use the company."
YOU ARE READING
Tevun-Krus #20 - WattPunk
Science FictionThis month, the Ooorah crew take on a sub-genre created right here on the hallowed pages of Wattpad. Drop by and read a veritable shedload of stories, check out this month's slightly different interviews and enter our monthly caption contest!
