User blog comment:HumboldtLycanthrope/The Collaborative Cliche Pasta/@comment-24101790-20150307044417/@comment-26030957-20150309021705

THIS ISN’T HAPPENING, THIS ISN’T HAPPENING, THIS ISN’T HAPPENING, Mikey thought as he splashed more water into his face. Tentatively, he opened his eyes, ever so slowly. Just his own reflection. Same as always. It must have been that leftover chimichanga, that and the backwards music just upset his stomach. He went back to his new laptop. The screen was blank. Not blank, exactly, just pitch black. But the music was still playing, that warped backwards sound. He felt something funny in his ears- a wet sensation. He put his hand up to his ear, it came back with a rust colored liquid. BLOOD! He was bleeding out his ears. No. No. There was nothing there. Was he going mad? He went over to his old computer, and started tapping in a creepypasta story. It was raining. There was a knock on the door. A large albino man handed him his new computer with a wink. He took it into his room and started downloading games with an eerie sense of de ja vu. What was happening? He was stuck in some kind of time loop. No. No. It was his ears deceiving him. The blood had come from his ears. He clawed at his ears, ripping off the lobes. Deeper. He needed to go deeper. He grasped desperately at a ball point pen on his desk. When Mikey’s mother came home she found him sprawled on his bedroom floor screaming incoherently, two Bic pens jammed into his ears. The doctors said it was a miracle the pens had missed his brain. They locked him in a padded room wrapped tight in a straight jacket. When the orderly came to feed him, it was the same albino with the long stringy, white hair who had delivered the lap top. “You’ve done good, young one,” he whispered, unclasping the restraints. “I am going to free you. You must go to Florida. To the abandoned Disney park. There you will receive the answers you have been looking for……”