Ragged Doll P

Step. Step. Step went my feet as I walked down Camino Ruiz, a route I was more than familiar with. I had taken this same route so often that I could navigate it with my eyes closed if I really wanted to. Things never ended well in the times that I did try to walk the road blind though. At best, I would stumble on a protruding block of concrete beneath my feet that I had forgotten about. At worst, I would cause a 42 car pileup requiring 15 medical vehicles and presidential attention.

Regardless, I probably knew this route better than I know most of my family members. The pale white trees to the right of the sidewalk with pale bark that flaked and peeled like old paint, the woofs and ruffs from an unseen dog greeting me from behind a fence bordering the street, the severed leg stupidly hidden behind a bush near the intersection of Camino Ruiz and Westmore Road. I knew every secret and every story that this road had to offer simply because I walked the same path every day to and from school. No detours. No shortcuts. Just Camino Ruiz.

I lived my life the same way that I chose my paths. I would find the safest, most comfortable approach, and repeat it endlessly, never daring to change even a single step. Of course, that meant that my life was often boring and cyclic. At times, I didn’t mind the monotony, but sometimes, the faintest desire for a thrilling, fast-paced adventure would spark deep within my pinkish-red internal organs, a spark that never completely engulfed me because of my reluctance to change. But thankfully, one day, change took control. And slapped me right in the face.

UPDATE: Short Film Script and Stuff

Hello again.

So I'm really, really sorry, but there isn't going to be a new story this week, for a few reasons. One, I had a billion tests I had to study for this week, which stole a good chunk of my free time. Two, because I've been practicing for a parkour jam that's happening this Saturday, which also ate up a lot of my free time. And three, because the story I had been working on which I was supposed to publish this week ended up being horrible and I had to scrap it all. I won't go into the detail of the actual story right now because I might revisit the concept in the future, but wow, was that story a mess.

Don't worry, I haven't run out of ideas just yet, I just did a really, really bad job with outlining the plot this week. I already have better, smoother plans on what to write for next Wednesday.

Anyway, on to the more important thing. I've been working really hard on the script for my short film, currently titled "I Remember." Getting really, really close to the end of it, and I have to say, it's heartbreaking. Based on Analytics, I can tell you guys absolutely loved "A Hundred Lifetimes," so if you loved that one, you're going to love "I Remember" EVEN MORE. I love it already and I'm not even done with it.

Again, my apologies for not being able to deliver on a story this week, but next week's story's going to be great, I promise. Also, shoutouts to my readers from Finland, Germany, and the UK! Hope you like my writing!

Descent

Experiment Proposal
Subject ID: 50197
Research Conductor: Dr. ████
March 15, 2019

Purpose: To observe the effects of solitary confinement on the human psyche.

Procedure: Subject is to be held alone for ten (10) years in a windowless, temperate, well-lit, ventilated room 550m x 550m in size, with an 8m high ceiling. Scientific observation is to be made through two (2) dome CCTV cameras hidden on opposite corners of the ceiling, as well as through four (4) wireless microphones built into various furniture (Technical Specifications for the cameras and the microphones are in appendix A-50197-1-1 and A-50197-1-2). Subject is provided:

• *One (1) Desktop computer WITHOUT Internet access or a clock, bolted to a desk, to be used exclusively as a diary for the subject (Technical Specifications are in appendix A-50197-2). Comes with a wired mouse, a monitor, and a wired keyboard.
• One (1) White wooden work desk, bolted to the ground.
• One (1) White folding chair.
• One (1) White mattress.
• *One (1) White pillow.
• Food and drinkable water, to be dispensed via an automated slot in the wall three (3) times daily (See appendix A-50197-3-1 for more thorough detail on the mechanism). Food was specifically selected to simulate the subject's regular diet.
• One (1) Working toilet.
• Toilet paper, two-ply, to be replenished via a button-operated mechanism in the wall of similar design to the food dispenser.
• One (1) Working sink.
• *One (1) Working shower.
• Various hygienic products, including a toothbrush, toothpaste, a nail clipper, soap, and shampoo. Consumables replenished via observer-operated slots in the wall (See appendix A-50197-3-2 for full description).
• Clothes, to be dispensed via a weight-operated machine built into the wall of similar design to the toilet paper disposer (See appendix A-50197-3-3).
• One (1) Trash chute, button-activated.
• One (1) Television, with access only to On-Demand movies. Internal clock is disabled.
• One (1) Small white wooden table, bolted to the ground.
• *One (1) White couch.
• One (1) Item of the subject's request (must meet overseer approval).

(Note: Asterisks denote furniture with hidden microphones)

Subject Description: Subject is an American male, aged ██. Subject is 1.75m tall and 64kg in weight. Subject is in excellent physical condition, with a body fat percentage of 7%. 50197 has short brown hair and brown eyes. Subject is of average intelligence.

Subject, upon hearing the 10 million dollar compensation for the experiment, was the first (and only one) to volunteer in selection group O3-627-M. Prior to experimentation, subject requested an Xbox 360 and several games. Request granted, but online multiplayer access and internal clock both have been disabled.

Experimentation approved by Dr. ███████. Testing scheduled to begin on March 21, 2019.

The First Day of the Rest of Ivan's Life

Click. Click click went the old computer mouse under Ivan's skinny, pale fingers. A thick layer of oil and grease formed a shell around the mouse, a testament to the endless hours that Ivan had spent snacking on chips and pizza while in front of the blue glow of his old Macintosh computer, the only source of light in the dark, damp basement of his mother's house that Ivan called home.

He was 29. His birthday was in a week. You know the old saying, where if you turn 30 without having a single girlfriend, you become a wizard? If that were true, then Ivan was well on his way to becoming the wizard king. Apart from his mother, he hadn't seen another girl since he dropped out of high school when he was 16. Hell, he hadn't even seen his own mother in awhile, now that he only left the house between midnight and sunrise, when the sun wouldn't burn his deathly pale skin or hurt his weak, beady eyes. He had become a vampire. A pathetic one. Which no person would ever write a book about, or at least a book that would make millions of girls fall in love with him. If he were in some sort of writing material, it'd probably be in a blog post, or a National Geographic article about fake vampire sightings that nobody ever reads.

Ivan had spent the vast majority of his unproductive, meaningless youth in front of his computer screen, eating a diet made entirely of of pizza, chips, and the occasional stray rat that happened to pass between him and the monitor. It was a miracle that after 13 years of this, he hadn't turned into an amorphous blob of lard and grease. Maybe it was because of his ridiculous metabolism (haha). Or maybe it was because he starved himself, completely ignoring his hunger to maximize computer time, until he's just at the brink of death by starvation, where he gorges himself on snacks and pizza and repeats the cycle again. Yeah. That was probably it.

He didn't sleep. He didn't even blink anymore. Every second of every day, his eyes were open, and glued to the monitor, reading 4chan threads or playing games or watching things. On this particular day, Ivan had been doing the former. Little did he know, this particular 4chan thread would change his life. Forever.