The searches I had to do today to write this is as follows: freddy fazbear, freddy fazbear all animatronics, parts of lamps, kermit, constantine kermit, anatomy of the dick, spanish for chicken, a chicken in spanish.
I hope you're happy, CheertheSecond.
"Knock, knock," I call out into the room. "You awake in there, roomie?"
Nothing.
"I'm coming in," I enunciate with worn exhaustion.
Time to do my duty as the one sane housemate of four and check that she hasn't passed out in her puke.
Flicking the switch, I sigh in exasperation. The lights don't work.
Walking into my housemate's spacious room, I tread carefully. Tiptoeing over the furry suit - I pause. Is that Roxanne in a leotard? Man, just ruin Five Nights at Freddy for me, why don't you? - and scooting past the undergarments carelessly tossed onto the floor, I halt in my path. Rubbing my brow in the dark, grimacing, my eyes adjust to the lighting, or rather lack thereof.
Does she ever clean up this place? It'd be nice if she didn't leave evidence of her sexual escapades around like a HEATHEN.
Looking up at the fan, I note the lightbulbs that failed to turn on.
"Those lightbulbs are coming out of YOUR paycheck, Katie," I whisper with certainty.
Coming up to her bed, my eyes rebelliously roam the scene around her bed first. I don't want to see it, damnit!
Propped up on a basic lamp, so long as to extend all the way to the finial, while still parallel to the diagonal surface of the lampshade, is a monstrous dildo. Opaque white and far too anatomically accurate, the sight is burned into my eyes.
"Oh sweet Jesus, protect me," I whisper, throwing a cross hand sign at the toy dick. I refuse to believe that fits in ANY orifice. The window's soft light does NOT reflect off dried smears on the dildo and...
I turn my head away, my mouth crumpling in distaste like Constantine's, Kermit the Muppet's doppelganger.
I gasp, the sight I averted my eyes to being even worse.
Draped over a corpse is the familiar form of my roommate, lithe and pale, pale white. Her mouth was drenched in blood. She was resting her head against the still chest of a dead boy, asleep with a dreamy smile on her face.
I shake with disbelief.
"Katie?"
Yellow-orange eyes flit open lazily. Black ebony striated with incandescent flame.
Then her inhuman eyes shoot open upon seeing me. "ACK! Helen? OH FUCK!" she yelped, leaping back and falling off her bed comically. Completely unclothed, of course.
Popping up back, looking back and forth furtively, unable to meet my no-doubt horrified expression, she appears downcast.
"I, uhhh, doubt you're willing to overlook this."
With disbelief that this is even in question, I say "Uhhh, no. Uhhh, NO!! THE FUCK, KATIE?!?! WHAT IS THIS?!"
"Shit!" she whispers, still unable to meet my eyes. A flash of white fangs catches the faint light in the dark room.
Thrusting her hand out at the nightstand, her nails looking like claws, she whispers something too quietly for me to hear.
"So, you going to explain?!" I shout shrilly, hand on my hips and gesturing at the girl's corpse.
"Sorry, Helen," she says mournfully.
Something on the nightstand twitches.
It's the cock.
It's twitching.
Then, from the urethra opening to the neck of the glans, it splits open. Revealing pearly conical teeth among strands of still attached flesh, it roars.
"WHAT THE FUCK!" I shriek.
Still screaming, I turn around and flee.
Leaping clear across the room's detritus, I wrap my hand around the glass doorknob, slamming it close.
Throwing a glance through the swiftly closing wooden door, the dildo's "neck" has grown turgid, lashing around like a rabid beast's. And somehow, it had gotten right behind me.
Instead of continuing its collision course with the soon-to-be closed door, the oversized scrotum underneath the gnashing head unfurls into millions of wafer-paper-thin peach and blue wings overlapping each other, halting its descent with irritation.
Sprinting down the stairs, through the kitchen, and wrenching the door out of my way, I flee outside of our house. Still ranting in panic to myself, I run like my life depends on it away from the house.
Hoping it couldn't see me and predict my movement, I smash open someone's window with my fist. The wonders of adrenaline. The chemical allows me to ignore the jagged claws of the glass, wedging them open until I wriggle through it.
A furtive glance outside reveals a silhouette on the ground of a stick and balls in the illumination of the moonlight.
"The dildo's fuckin' flying," I giggle to myself.
"WHO'S THERE? WHAT DO YOU WANT? I CAN HELP YOU IF YOU WANT. IT'S ONLY ME HERE. I " shouts a man from his bedroom, panicked, but hiding it under bluster.
Despite his claims of being alone, I hear whispers to someone else. I think it's his wife. The shrieks from upstairs when I smashed open the window, and the footsteps on the upper floor also give away that there are kids here too.
I wince. I didn't want to bring kids into this. I just didn't want to be herded into some isolated spot to get killed on my lonesome. That's why I broke in.
"HEY! ANSWER ME!" he demands, growing more panicked from my torn silence on whether to leave and just risk myself, rather than bring the kids into this. "I'VE GOT A GUN AND I'M NOT AFRAID TO USE IT!"
"You do? OH THANK GOD," I exult.
A moment of silence from the obviously unexpected answer.
"What?" he asks plaintively.
"I'm being chased by my wackjob of a roommate. She's got something that flies - trained bird? fuck if I know. It's creepy and you'll know it when you see it. She's trying to off me now that I've seen her with a body. PLEASE HELP ME!" I implore.
I want to be honest, but if I am, they'll think I'm high or something. hopefully the lie I spun up will give them enough info to help me.
"WHY'D YOU COME HERE?! DRAWING THE ATTENTION OF A KILLER TO OUR FAMILY?!" a woman screams angrily from upstairs. I think that's his wife, the woman I heard earlier. She must have crept up there to help them get away or something.
"JOANNA! NOT NOW!" the husband yells back. Much quieter now, he responds to me, "You sound like a nice kid. I'll help you. I'm a real crackshot with this, so don't worry." He sounds much more in control now that he knows I'm not some maniac criminal.
Tentatively opening the door, a barrel pokes out.
He's still being careful. That's good.
Training it on me, centermass, I hold out my hands. I'm sweating from my run, but otherwise composed. Seeing him armed, even if pointed at me, reassures me considerably.
Then a whoosh, the dildo slips in. It is surrounded by its many wings, each flapping in a movement that gives a strange, arcane look to it. Each wing bears a similar shape to a beetle's wings in motion, though again, far more numerous.
Silent as a thief in the night, it slams into me head-first.
I'm decidedly less silent at the violation.
Shrieking, I fall to the ground, raising hell with my ruckus.
He yells, swearing in Spanish.
I flail at the nubby, orca-like teeth suddenly chomping on my face.
The sensation is that of CRUSHING. Flesh in my cheeks squish under a force they are not meant to be under. Cartilage in my nose crumples and cracks loudly.
The bulbous head, disgustingly male, comes away with blood smeared on its textured "lips".
Repeatedly, it comes in for a bite.
And it repeatedly, it comes away with more and more blood coating the insides of its mouth. I get a glimpse of the bits of me stuck between its teeth just before every bite, its jaws unhinging and covering my eyes. Though my eyes are left intact, its saliva, my saline tears, and my profusely weeping forehead are left stinging.
After every bite, it wordlessly crows its victory over me, its veined, red staff-neck pulsing with both its blood and mine. The former keeps it erect and the latter enters its gullet.
Screaming and sobbing, I punch it, but it seems unmovable. Whatever magic that rat bastard, ex-bestie Katie animated this monstrous attack-dick with seemed to give it inhuman durability.
Then its head pops with an earsplitting bang and thankfully not an orgasmic one.
Smoke still trailing from the barrel, the man lowers the hunting rifle from his rich black eyes with a disturbed expression.
Putting the gun in safety and removing the cartridges, he softly sets it on the floor. He rushes off.
Still rolling on the ground in agony, I weep in pain.
Carrying cloth bandages, hydrogen peroxide, and a pack of cotton balls, he bends over me, concern and curiosity burning equally in his eyes.
"Chica... that ain't no bird. Un pollo - ah, a chicken is a bird. That... what was that?" he asked, aghast.
I just start laughing, before screeching in pain as he dabs my face with hydrogen peroxide.
How can I answer that?
After all, it was a dildo.
A sentient dildo.
