| abstract | - Clausdale Mental Infirmary Records Patient: James CrawfieldPatient no.: 4325230975Patient condition: Unstable, suffers severe aggressive outbursts at random times, unable to remember outbursts.Details: Patient is to be on lock-down at all times, kept in a separate cell from other patients and only given meals when kept stable through chamber gassing. DO NOT GIVE ANY HUMAN INTERACTION. James wasn’t always insane. Hell, most murderers don’t start that way. James was just like you or I, but mostly like 50% of people in the world. Because James was, in Layman’s terms, a scumbag. Worked for a car rental service, where he would repeatedly extort customers daily, treat the other sex like a piece of meat, and often make racial slurs to other customers. Most of James’ fellow school mates would have agreed. “He never talked much, except to all the cliched jocks and cheerleaders. He wasn’t a guy you’d LOVE to hate, but he wasn’t a guy you’d love either.” James’ attitude to women meant he was a frequent viewer of pornographic websites. Anything he could get his hands on would suit him. One day, James came across a popular dating simulation game “Date Ariane”, in which the objective was to eventually have sexual intercourse with the main character in hand. James played the game once, but thought nothing of it. But one day, in searching for a remake of the game in higher detail, he came across the site “Ariane 2: Dateless wonder”. The game was 100% normal, if you counted perverse portrayals of women. James loved the game and would often… “pleasure” himself to it, almost every night. The story was almost a complete copy, but Ariane looked so real. In fact, James’ obsession grew unhealthy. He would no longer pleasure himself to the game, but rather treat Ariane as though she was real, talking to her, stroking the screen and even passing it over some of his food. Ariane wouldn’t reply, clearly, as she was just a computer program. James loved Ariane, but had no idea that she wasn’t real. He began nicknaming her, never going to work, never watching, not even eating. He just sat there, in his filth, with a beard forming around him as his baggy eyes grew bloodshot. Flies encircled him, but James was too engaged to turn to swat them. His loved “Ari” too much. She was his “treasure”, his “amour”, his one true love. But that all changed… One day James visited the site to find a black screen instead of the game, which entitled “Update 1.2”. It claimed that Ariane would be removed so players could experience the game as a whole other game, rather than a remake, as soon, “Bethany: Dateless Wonder” would be coming. James wasn’t pleased at all. For 2 weeks, he never slept. He just banged his head against walls, scratched and peeled at his skin, scream and smash out some teeth with a hammer. But James had a new idea now. He looked for the game developer’s head office. For some reason, however, Google maps only pointed to a small shed just on the outskirts of where James lived. James was going to get Ariane back, by any means possible. He grabbed an axe out of his garage, started up his car, and followed the trail on his phone, as he brought up pictures of Ariane, stroking them and saying “Soon my darling. Soon they will fucking die…” James saw the shed. It seemed rather abysmal for where a developer would work. Windows were smashed out and the door had weird symbols carved into it, of a child holding a knife behind their back and a head in the other. But James wasn’t human anymore. He didn’t fear, he only felt rage. James kicked in the door as the shed was blacked out, other than one computer in the center of the room that shone with a bright white screen, yet again showing the symbol as a screensaver. In fact, there were pictures everywhere of people. People who all looked as James did now, dishevelled, anorexic and deprived of sleep. James even had his own photo, framed above the computer saying in Latin “Ad nostram numerus unus fan, sit ille Requiescant in pace ...” It looked as though it was an epitaph, almost like a reef hung by a coffin. But yet again, James wasn’t right in the head. He stared at the monitor as he found an animation program running as well as a few others, including a strange one with the symbol as an icon called “Insania Resurgens”. James clicked onto the animation program as he deleted all the work on the update, re-uploading Ariane as she slowly rose from the dead. But suddenly, the door opening, as a man wearing a green hooded-cloak stood with a dagger. He bellowed at James as he ran towards him “PRO DELIRITAS COORTUS!” but it was no use. James was better armed, as he swung in one great swing, cutting the man’s head clean off. James then ran back to the car, speeding home to find his love once more. As he arrived home, the website’s screen flashed with “Upload complete in 6 hours.” James didn’t sleep that night. He just smiled, still covered in blood whispering to the tune of London Bridge “Soon my love will be right back, be right back, be right back. Soon my love will be right back, for-or-ever…” It was morning and the screen flashed with “Error 404: Site URL is invalid.” James screeched as he checked other sites, only to find a news site with a new story. A family man was decapitated in his own home, only to be found by his teenage daughter moments later. His blood was spread to create a symbol for a little girl holding a knife and severed head. He was known to be an online games developer for a pornographic game, but this was only just realized. The police had James’ DNA on the axe he left, and were right outside. The developer had his credit card set to end upon his passing, meaning all items currently subscribed to his card would become invalid. Including his site. James just sat and screeched. “ARIANE, COME BACK.” Patient Logs: No. 4325230975, James Crawford No responses, prone to crawling up into a ball and constantly whispering “Ariane come back…” The 3 green hooded-cloaked men all turn from their computer desks, looking up to the black hooded-cloaked man sat on the throne. “Project Insanity Rising works perfectly sir, 78 subjects already submitted to asylums. A check on the other projects, sir?” spoke one of them. The man remained silent till he spoke quietly to himself. “You may have lived James, but that was part of the plan… Soon, we will have this world in our grip…” He walked out of the conference room as giant banners hung from the walls. All of the girl, with the knife, and the head…
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