GoFuckYourself.com - Adult Webmaster Forum - I'd like a few GFY'ers opinion.

One of my writers posted this story to my site. I just wanted a bit of feedback.

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Quote:

It's a dark and dreary night, the kind of night where it's so pitch-black that it's impossible to sleep. And I'm not -- asleep. I'm down in the basement (after I walk down wooden stairs to a cement basement), a cellar of sorts full of inherited vintage wines and an inherited vintage computer. Nothing else exists in the room but a single window highly placed, with the rain coursing down it in torrents, and a storm drain.

I sigh. No life. I casually stroll to the desk in the corner, shadowed even from the lightning lighting the outside. I sit down, spin around and fall in front of my monitor. I tap the mouse, the screensaver dissipates and the monitor illuminates the darkened corner. Ahhh, my life.

"Ding-dong." An instant message!:

"Will, hey, you've got to see this pic I saw. I don't remember where I saw it, but it's of this guy with his head cut off! Sick shit, I know, but you've got to see it. Laters, Trav."

And so, without much clue of the website I was looking for, I began to search the world wide web. Google is the greatest tool a surfer has, and the toolbar is a stroke of genius! So I write: "decapitated guy" and hit enter. 64,800 search results in (0.32 seconds) Fuck! that's a record. I smile as I read the description of the first listing, and click on the link.

After perusing the site for a small bit, I left to an affiliate's page. Rotten, what a site! and the site I was looking for. Pictures, godammit! I want pictures. I found my bliss -- and my lunch. A few clicks and a few pictures later I was set aback in disgust with the fetish my friend seems to have. Necrophelia. Then a quick, brief flash of some anonymous man (thank God!) fucking a decapitated woman's windpipe crosses my mind's vision. Awwwh! With closed eyes, I randomly click somewheres on the page, hoping to take me somwheres else but where I am.

I part my fingers from my eyes. The screen appears to be dull in brightness, like someone has taken away the screen's illumination -- outside my eyes there is no light. And someone has taken away the heat to my fingers...brrrr! it's cold. My eyes rest upon a solitary photo: A woman lies nude, supinely on an aluminum underpinning -- like a medical examination table. Only, this person isn't on the table for a routine check-up. I lean forward to better understand... the something I look at with unreasoned eyes. The image seems to float toward me as I near it.

The stands of whitened hair are curled from staleness of air, and appear stiff like having been stayed by an exhaustive amount of hair spray. The face is recessed, discoloured to a lime-greenish pigment that is unnatural... or supernatural. And the stress-lined forehead is nonexistent, almost signifying to me that she was young -- but what of the white hair! I feel like pulling my own hair! And the eyes... are discoloured too... and without the... Fuck! I couldn't tell the goddam scientiffic name for the fuckin thing -- the middle! the middle! the thing you see with! is GONE! It comes nearer and nearer to me, as I go nearer and nearer to my screen. I feel like I this... perhaps my fate. I think "dumb" for some reason... and lightning strikes, but it doesn't strike me... maybe that's why I think "dumb"??? And I see my reflection in my monitor, a shadowy shape that stares back, though I don't look at it as a shape, but as my face that shares the body of the woman. Fuck! "Wha-what?" Nearer and nearer. There is no monitor. I stand inside the frame, inside the picture. Beneath my feet is... nothing... only the body exits. The lips are tight... I CAN SEE THE LIPS! The face is grotesque. It's discolouration. It's abnormality! "Back up. Back up." Nearer. "Back up." And nearer. "BACK UP!"

My feet push back against the floor underneath the corner desk. My hands are out, flailing against the hideous image that haunts me and burnt into my retina and plays in my mind's eye -- laughing! knowing I cannot escape this fate.

I stand up and the chair continues to roll until it hits the storm drain, and topples backward with the wheels still rolling. I turn to face the sound and the darkness. Lightning, and thunder rolls in the distance. The clouds separate briefly to allow the moonlight to shine in (through the window), and falls on the drain. I bend down... something shiny... hair. Hair. Silvery, white-like, life-like hair. Her hair! I fling the hair from me quickly, desperately. I swing my body back to the computer monitor, and freeze. There she is, a closeup of her face. Then it turns (the face turns!) and looks at me with those blank, empty eyes. And forgetting everything behind me, I turn and run up the wooden staircase to the top, home-free (home-base, "olley-olley oxen free!"); the door! I open it and rush through.

Slamming the basement door behind me, I fall against it. "I have to barricade it," I think. With what! "Breathe goddamit!"

My cousin Chris comes closer to me. I didn't know anyone was awake. What time is it? Chris leans toward me cautiously, like I might bite. I just might -- the eyes!

"Whatsa matter?" Chris says.

With my breathing so heavy, my response comes out in no more than a whisper: " You won't believe what just happened..."