The Legacy

3 AM. The cold Winter night makes everyone seek refuge from the low temperature in their beds, wrapped in their comfy sheets, save for the few who would rather spend every waking moment in front of their computer screen. One such person was SocialSpartan. In a dark room, where the only source of light is a simple monitor, he stares at his machine with lifeless eyes. Despite the dry cold outside, the sheer amount of time he's spent locked in that very room has made it almost warm and damp. Packets of Twinkies are scattered across the floor; the bin is filled with foul-smelling tissues and empty hot pocket boxes; a few bottles filled with a yellow liquid line up against the wall next to the old desk. The entire room is in a sad state, but worse still is the man which resides in it: numerous bags can be seen under his tired, empty eyes; stubble crosses his face irregularly, matching his unkept hair; his clothes are simple, and have not been taken to the cleaners for quite a while.
Every day was a struggle for SocialSpartan. "There's no need to worry," he thought, "soon enough my real life will start. Soon I'll really be doing what I keep telling my IRC friends. Women, money, a car, I'll have everything. Tomorrow will be better..." Every single day, he repeated these in his head as a way to cope with his harsh reality. "Yeah, I'm the best after all, people have to earn the god damned RIGHT to face me." This time, however, it wasn't working. His eyes began to well up, and eventually tears flowed down his face. He was becoming unable to escape anymore. Fortunately, the wonders of self-pleasure were usually enough to rescue his from that state, and so he quickly opened several links which he had gotten from one of the other managers he had met - Mark McRob? He never really bothered to pay attention to those he deemed inferior to him.
However, before he could get into a good rhythm, the energy suddenly went out. Shocked, a panic attack began to build up within him, but before long a mysterious beam of light erupted in the middle of the room. A man was descending from its middle in a slow, elegant way. Social's panic attack struck with full force, turning him into a screaming, crying mess. Once the man had completely left the gentle embrace of the light, it disappeared without a trace. The man approached Social, held him firmly in his arms, and stared into his desperate eyes. The crying man could barely see the mysterious person's face in the now pitch-black room, but he could still feel his piercing gaze. Weirdly enough, it gave him a much-needed sense of relief. He calmed down completely in seconds.
Silence. None of the men moved for a good minute. Social didn't out of confusion, but the other man didn't for completely unknown reasons. He was expressionless. Thoughtless. Like a perfect robot. Eventually, however, it ended; the mysterious man tore apart Social's clothes with great ease before slamming him on the desk. He approached his ear and softly whispered: "It's time." An expression of absolute terror could now be seen in Social's face, but before he could so much as scream, his anus was savagely pierced by the other Man. He tried to fight the Man off, but his limbs didn't respond; in fact, slowly his body seemed to accept what was going on. He could feel a numb, pleasant sensation coursing through his body. It now ached for more - a new form of relief had been born. And the other Man could feel it welcoming him further. In response, his movements became more intense, more savage, exploring the furthest reaches of SocialSpartan.
After a good ten minutes of relentless piercing, the Man reached his limit and released his male sauce inside Social. A disgusting, grotesque sound was made when He pulled out, letting the semen overflow. The victim looked down at his legs, feeling the alien sensation, and promptly felt a rush of disappointment. Not because he let that happen and enjoyed it, but because he needed more. Then, the unexpected happened: as if He had heard his silent plea, the Man said "It is not over yet" before emitting a faint glow and somehow creating an exact copy of himself. Both the copy and the original proceeded to do the same again and again, until the room was completely filled with His copies. "Once for each Brother" he muttered. Social smiled joyfully before drowning in pleasure for the rest of the night.


By the time Social regained his senses, it was well past noon. "A dream?" he thought at first, but he could still feel the pain and pleasure from the events that had unfolded. It made him shiver. After properly waking up, SocialSpartan decided to go to the bathroom for the first time in days. He made his way to the sink and briefly washed his face in front of the mirror. However, when he looked into it, he saw not himself, but the mysterious Man. Suddenly, another light beam erupted in the middle of the bathroom. The person once known as SocialSpartan then turned to it, and surprisingly wasn't shocked to see the Man once again step out of the light. He knew. "Come, Our new Brother" the Man said in a serene voice. "Yes, my Brother," the new Adept answered, his old self now completely gone; "We shall continue with The Prophecy, as is destined." Both Men stepped into the light and disappeared with it.



The End