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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1712635-THE-CHATROOM-84
Rated: · Short Story · Dark · #1712635
A young girl-an unknown chat room and an unexpected guest

“The Chat room 84: For creatures truly free”

This innocent tagline glows like a neon among numerous others in the wonderful world of network community. I am sure you all have seen it at some point or the other. So did I.And shrugged it off too like most of the other gimmicks. Make no mistake. Sometimes under the surface of innocence, inexplicable phenomena’s raise their ugly head. Trust me. I “saw” them.

It all began with a single “hi”.Like most of my friends I am addicted to the cyber world. I make friends-virtual friends- but unlike my predecessors, I pride myself to be an excellently cautious surfer. I chat anonymously to avoid getting tracked, raped and murdered. Or so did I thought. Mostly I do my worldly duties, like bathing, eating, going to school and doing my homework, diligently before I embark on a journey to the bowels of the cyber world, where I am everything- a lonely psychiatrist, a happy-go-lucky teacher ,a self-conscious social worker- but my true self, an 16 yrs old student struggling with school programmes and a part time job in the library. A lazy purple-headed, chewing gum blowing and weird model teenager. My mom, between her epic episodes of drunken melodrama (where she calls me her “fallen angel”) takes care of the household chores as best as she can because I earn for the family. My dad is a missing creature who never popped in our lives.

On that fateful day, I hurriedly left school. Rushed through my Library services and collecting materials for an upcoming project and cycled back home. My mom was, surprise surprise, missing in action. So after I scooped two spoons of yogurt into my bowl of cereals graced my presence in the common chat room. I frowned at the newest inclusion . It can bet my new mascara, it wasn’t there yesterday. So created within a span of 24 hrs and already has a 1000 members! Must be worth visiting.

“Sic Gorgiamus Allos Subjectatos Nunc” The infamous quote from Adam’s family that literally meant We gladly feast on those who would subdue us lit a slight smile on my lips. “"I am beyond your experience. I am beyond good and evil, legions of the night - night breed - repeat not the errors of the Night Stalker and show no mercy." Claimed another. Ya right! Definitely some over-imaginative vampire freak’s creation. I was almost ready to quit the room. Suddenly something popped my screen. A chat box. A mini castle under the moonlight. Very classy. “Bored are you Mia Bella?” “Sort of!” “ Well human aren’t exactly well known for their patience. Your kind IS sort of frivolous when it comes to ponder over things of magnitude proportions. But then I am not really overwhelmed by your foul nature. I find you very very amusing, beneficial infact, in a nutritious kind of way…” I don’t know whether it was his high handedness or his use of words like “frivolous” and “amusing” that drove me over the edge… funny, I could even picture him sitting on his easy chair and sarcastically grinning over my stupidity. Perhaps the realization that truly speaking I am not making much of my life in reality and someone behind the screen might have the insight to know it made me retaliate. “ Oh really! And what gives you the right to judge the follies of humanity with your overbearing insight I might ask? Maybe you are and archangel here to prophesize the yet to happen doomsday ! or better stil! You are he himself! The Allmighty! The Good shepherd! GOD! Whoever you are I bow before your superior knowledge and begged to be pardoned of my sinful and meaningless life and would beg to take your leave and leave you to your superior epiphanies”. I didn’t wait for his reply and logged out of the room. I surfed my regular pages and switched off my computer. The bitter taste my last chat left me with was not to be gone.

I didn’t chat for almost 3 weeks after the incident. Partly because of my exams and partly because my mother needed to be sent into a rehab for alcohol abuse. I missed her terribly and that’s when Rose came to stay. She is my mother’s cousin. A very nice human being who didn’t stoop down to check my mails in my absence. She simply took them away. Apart from that particular character flaw she was a decent woman. One evening I open my mail box and received a curious email from someone named Mark Bennito.

“Mia Cara, I profusely apologize having been so rude to you on our last chat. I was going through a personal crisis. Anyways I am most ready to make it up to you and show you around my castle (on chat off course) if you but come online once.” You humble servant
Marco De Sauntierre Bennito

I was trembling by the time I finished the letter. I recognized the onset of anger mingled with fear. It didn’t help my condition to read the postscript of the email

P.S if you want to keep your identity safe you must not register your email on profiles

Which I didn’t. I remember thoroughly I never registered my REAL email on my chat profile…my blogs or any of my other cyber creations. The slot simply said 1456@chatmail.com which was fake The question was how did he write to me on my real id. Somewhere a dog howled and it sounded to me like the precursor of a evident mishap. That night I slept in my mom’s room.


My mom is, unlike, the other mom’s in the world extremely careless. He room is a classic example of “defiance”. Defiance of bedroom norms. She thoroughly discarded all notions that panty hoses and other items of lingerie mustn’t be kept in open. Her flower pot contained a single weathered plant….unwatered untended since god knows when. Her robe was balled inside her dresser and her make-up brushes were never cleaned. But curiously, whenever anything bothered me…I balled on her bed and poof I slept. That night even my mother’s bed was no comfort. The words on the email bothered me and every time I remembered the name “Marco” a shiver ran down my body. Amidst all these thoughts I did fell asleep somewhere in the night.

And dreamt. I was in a party wearing a mask. The party was filled with people whose faces were a blur. But I knew they were beautiful, perfect .And they were murmuring. No chanting. In a very low humming note that sounded very familiar. Then they formed two lines with me in the centre and joined hands to form an arch. I was curious to see what I was leading on to. So I walked between these angels and there… was a man… at the end of the big field…. Dressed in white and looking above. Picture of sadness and beauty. I wanted to know why he was sad. But then he looked at me. With cold eyes. Red eyes. Burning eyes. Mocking me. And said,” welcome to Castello di Marco”

I woke up with a start, sweating profusely, in the same bed. Confused. Werent the lights switched on? I never switch off the lights. I look at the clock that said 3:00 am. I went to sleep at 2:00.Why did it feel like hours if only 1 had passed... The room felt…somewhat different. The windows were open. I went to shut them down. And almost screamed. Something that looked like a scarf was stuck on the window pane. The smell it emitted was strange but intoxicating, a mix between vanilla and something else. I took it and curiosity took my better judgment and I inhaled. Technically I don’t dope. But I was convinced the scarf was laced with something really potent. My senses registered it first as cool, but then gradually as it spread it warmed my bloodstream. To an extent, for a second,I fumbled in my mind to form a concurrent logic. And then my eyes felt heavy and I fell on the chair in a deep slumber.

I was back in my dream. This time on a cliff top. It was the balcony of the castle. Someone was holding me from behind but won’t let me turn to look. It whispered…” Don’t fight it Mia Bella… you and I were destined to meet… of all the corners of the world… I find you in the least of all deserved places…Faces change…but essence is what makes you apart…makes you mine…my consort… my servant and my plaything…don’t fight it because you are not meant for the meaningless mortal things…Come leave this disgusting body…and join me in ETERNITY”… I feel my reserves break….I lean back into the strongest shoulder ever. My voice breaks. I sob. For the essence coming out of his skin makes me remember of times unknown...and when my life seemed nothing without him…My clogged voice whisper,” My name…”…Say it my beautiful demi-god commands harshly…” My name …is….IANKA”… I hear a faint growl and then sharp tinge on my neck…and then nothing.


I now sit in front of my dresser, combing my inky-black waist-length hair, I remember the day when I first chatted with Marco, my love, my consort, my companion in a world deemed impossible. I am wearing my favourate red ankle length evening gown. My face gleaming with crystal beauty and something else. Pride and Knowledge. Our kind, Marco says, feed only on vibes. Worst the vibes more the nutrition. That’s what drove him to me. My vibes. Very less human. Demonic. He followed me home the day I killed my mother. He was Invisible offcourse. Something I would be able to do eventually. And when I ate my mother’s heart his filled with pride and love. When I did Rose, he knew it was time to introduce him and myself, my true self to me. Hence the dream.And the Evolution. To Demonity.


I rise with the fluid movement of a predator. Beautiful. Deadly. I walk like a dream to join my beloved in our escapades. As I leave I cannot stop myself from humming my love song.

So next time, you log-into an unknown website. Be careful. You might meet the demon. In Yourself.
© Copyright 2010 Risingmoon123 (risingmoon123 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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