Revenge

The Feud

(Author's Note: Subgenre Wattpunk. Word limit between 1K - 1500 words.

Round One of MadMike's Revenge Smackdown

Prompt:

"I don't believe this shit," the man mumbled to his computer monitor. He took a sip of his extra-large Watty and grimaced in disgust. Picked a stray orange pube from his tongue. "They didn't even read my fuckin' story! The fuck is this comment supposed to mean, anyway!? 'Loved the way Pixy Dust rode Unicron LOL!' There wasn't any Pixy Dust or Unicron in my fucking story, nor was there anything remotely funny in it! What the hell are you LOLing at, you dumbass!?"

He rubbed his temples, leaving orange Cheetos dust behind. His head killed right now. Had been hurting a lot lately, but this took the cake. Nobody understood his beautiful writing. Their comments were irrelevant. It made him sick. Made him want to teach them all a lesson.

A grin worked its way across his pale face.

Yeah. Teach 'em all. A lesson.

The man brought up the profile of the latest imbecile to comment on his riveting story. Got a good look. Memorized the name and the face.

He went to his gun rack. Grabbed his finest and most powerful weapon. Locked it and loaded it.

The hunt was on.)

The Feud

Elveloy brushed a stray crumb from her desk, carefully placed her coffee cup out of possible danger, and reached eagerly for her laptop. Yesterday she'd loaded the first three chapters of a new story onto Wattpad. How exciting! How many reads had they attracted overnight? How many votes? Had anyone taken the time and trouble to comment?

The little circle finished spinning round and her notification page appeared before her. She smiled. One lovely reader had added the book to their reading list "Favourites." A second person had also added it to a reading list. Whoo Hoo! She was on a roll! Her smile faltered as she read the list title "Didn't like it." Then she smiled tolerantly. Obviously that person had a few issues. What normal person would bother to make a reading list of books they hadn't liked? It wasn't as if there were no other choices available.

She scrolled down and saw that as well as ten votes, her story had attracted three comments. Eagerly she went into the book to look for them. The first comment had her eyebrows twisting in confusion.

"Loved the way Pixy Dust rode Unicron LOL!"

What the heck was @MadMikeMarsbergen talking about? There was no Pixy Dust in her story, let alone a misspelt unicorn. Idiot. Evidently he hadn't bothered to read her beautiful story at all, or else he was the one on the pixie dust!

Muttering under her breath, she hunted for the next comment and found it on the last chapter.

"OMG I love this story. I'm a new writer. Mind checking out my new 1D story? Thanks, have a nice day! ."

"Nice day" be damned. How rude, soliciting on someone else's story! Still, the person was new (joined five hours ago) —perhaps they didn't know any better. On the other hand, their profile showed they had pasted the same comment in at least three other people's stories. Carefully, she wrote as polite a response as she could and PM'd it.

"Hi! I see you are new to wattpad - just letting you know that posting requests to read your book on other people's stories is considered rude and may lead to you being reported. Not worth it."

There, that should do it. Polite but firm. @Jaythorpe392 should be grateful; after all they might have had their account closed if she'd reported them.

Rolling her shoulders, and trying to unclench her teeth, Elveloy scrolled down to the next comment. She growled. What the hell?

"Voted! BTW can you read my story Teen Vamps? It's about two teenagers who fall in love with the CEO of their company but he's secretly a vampire (link to story inserted) @bubblygurlz."

Scowling furiously, Elveloy checked the details. Not only had @bubblygurlz posted an advertisement on her story but she'd lied. She hadn't voted for it. What were the chances she had even read it? So rude! Now absolutely fuming, Elveloy turned to glare at the offender's profile page. She wasn't going to put up with this! The fool had not only entered her name, but the city she lived in. She memorised the details.

Elveloy spent a few moments imagining the various painful deaths she would inflict on this perpetrator. Her brain racing, she absently spat out a few tooth fragments and took a gulp of coffee. Gunshot? Knife to the belly? Poisoned chocolates? That old favourite, the exploding car?

Then she opened a nice new word doc and typed in the title, The Ten Perils of Bubblygurlz. She grinned as her fingers flew over the keyboard, ten search pages open at once with the answers to such crucial questions as "Where can I stab my knife so the victim won't know they are dying?" and "Where can an average person buy a gun?"

Several hours later, Elveloy was startled by a loud banging at her front door. Damn! She was just getting to the good part. Maybe if she ignored them, the person—whoever it was—would go away. She wasn't expecting any visitors today. The banging continued. Who on earth? They bloody better not be trying to sell her anything! She'd give them a piece of her mind, making a racket like that.

Grumbling, she saved her document then called out, crossly, "All right! All right! I'm coming!"

She went to the front door and opened it. "Wha-" Before she could finish, two large men in uniform rushed inside and tackled her to the floor. "Oof!"

"Search the house," said another man who was still standing on the front verandah. "Elveloy, you are under arrest. Suspected terrorist activities." He then proceeded to read her her rights, which weren't many considering the charge.

The two officers on top of Elveloy got up and hauled her to her feet, patting her down as they did so. Dazed and winded, Elveloy was struggling to make sense of this. What was happening? Was this some kind of joke? A new reality show she hadn't heard about?

"What are you talking about?" she gasped. "I'm not a terrorist. I'm a fiction writer!"

The officer rolled his eyes and smiled grimly. "Sure you are. A 'writer'" (he held his hands up to make air quotes) "who's been investigating how to make home-made bombs!"

"But I am! I write Science Fiction. And Romance. Okay, and maybe the odd crime story. Look, I can show you my books," Elveloy tried to turn back toward her computer room, but the officers held her firmly between them in a tight grip.

"Tell it to the judge!" said one of the officers. "When you see him in a fortnight," he added, grimly. "We can hold you for fourteen days without charge under the Terrorism Act."

"But my books, my deadlines..." protested Elveloy, tearfully, as she was hustled out into the waiting black van. "I can explain. I was only writing a book! I was never really going to hurt anyone. Not even @bubblygurlz. I promise!"

"Bubblygurlz? What's she talking about?" asked one of her escorts, looking over Elveloy's head to his partner.

The partner shrugged. "Must be some kind of code name. We'll get the cyber team onto it immediately."