nautawreyetr

at long last, i have vanquished all my enemies. i have curated my experience. it is exactly as the cursed amulet around my neck had whispered to me- only through bloodshed could i fortify my kingdom.

this is my victory.

men, women, children, animals, spirits- all forms of wretched life litter the ground. they hail from places near and far, some i had never heard of. they had espoused ideas strange and frightening, irritating, trite.

i cannot bear to hear it, or even see their faces in the cities and towns i rule over. i have built my beloved dashboard user by user, brick by brick. nothing must challenge my perfect order. no one must stand in my way. and thus i have blocked the fiends, without mercy or remorse.

yet a part of me has been stuck pondering some of their words- like bullets lodged into my brain.

perhaps my favorite story had indeed not been fully developed by the writers, who were pressed for time... i had known this to be true in my heart from the start, but it irritated me to have it pointed out so brazenly and gracelessly, without giving it a watsonian benefit of the doubt.

indeed, my favorite character's design is ugly. but i did not like the way the fiends implied his fans only loved him for being a white man. such insults could not be tolerated.

for some, the evidence of their guilt lies fresh upon them. a vile url or icon. a despised piece of media in their bio. the bloodlust seized me to rid my vision of their foul presence, and i thought no more of it.

but for others, the memory of their sin has already washed away, like stale blood into rivers. i recognize their urls. i have reblogged some of their posts. many of my own friends have engaged with them once.

what did i do this for, again?

but the ones for whom i lack context are more terrifying than those whose crimes are obvious. they lurk among us, wolves in sheep's clothing, before striking. no mercy must be allotted to them.

my judgement is final and absolute.

i linger on these thoughts, turning my gaze downward to the body at my feet. he lies at eternal peace in his armor, the ugliest blog theme i had ever seen. i had blocked him for leaving an ignorant tag on my post.

business as usual. nothing personal.

then i notice the symbols adorning his chest- medals as proof of victory against fearsome users that had since been banished from the site, through the joint efforts of his kingdom and mine.

hot topic pins emblazoned with fandoms i had been part of, years ago.

by his heart, a bloodstained locket displaying a picture of the most beautiful oc i have ever seen is broken open.

yes, almost everyone has these, i remind myself. no need to get sentimental. i have a mission.

i nearly succeed in tearing myself away from from these uncomfortable thoughts, before a shining brooch catches my eye: POPTROPICA.

i feel a pang within my heart. this man was from my own hometown.

tears begin to well up within my eyes.

perhaps… perhaps he was not so different from i………….

i sink to the ground, drenching my knees in a pool of his blood.

'o amulet of eternal night... have i gone too far?' i murmur, so softly i can hardly hear myself.

never could this man be an equal to me, allowed among the high court of my followers and mutuals. but perhaps this is too cruel a fate.

'was i a fool to make an enemy of everyone other than my own ideals?'

i stretch out my shaking hand, weakly poised to perform the revival spell of unblocking.

'have i made a monster of myself? have you made a monster of me?'

but before the words of healing can pass my lips, the amulet begins to burn against me.

'my liege, remember... this man once called your favorite installment in that series a 'filler waste of time'.'

those words sting freshly in my mind once again. hatred begins to cloud my vision.

'if you unblock him now, you'll be cursed to see his bad takes in the fandom tag once again. do you want that?'

the haunting thought of such villainy corrupting my beautiful kingdom is unpalatable. but i consider:

'perhaps if i merely typed his url into my list of filtered content, then i wouldn't have to see them...'

the amulet laughs, a hollow, scorching, cruel tone rattling within my mind.

'my liege, be not so soft. unless he is blocked, he may yet interact with your account. and even if he doesn't right away, are you going to wait in fear and dread until he does?'

i cannot argue.

i spring to my feet, violently kicking the corpse over. i must avoid further seeing those pins and medals that nearly brought me low. humiliated by my momentary loss of composure, i vow to become stronger, crueller yet.

i (or the amulet?) draw my (our?) sword, thrusting it into the already lifeless body before me (us?) to prove a point to myself (ourselves?).

the sight and smell is exhilarating. fresh blood for blood's sake. (who is in control? is it me or you?).

(is there a difference? i love you, therefore i am you.)