2 girls 1 cup ruined my life

Remember 2007? I’ll never forget it. I’d just finished my senior year and had officially stepped into adulthood. Just so happens that ‘07 was the peak of those internet shock sites. The one with the two women eating one another’s shit had spread around school like wildfire. Grossing each other out seemed to be the fad of the year, and eventually I’d had the video sent to me, disguised as something less than obvious of course.

“OMG Shay, you HAVE to check out this pic! Click it!” My best friend Sarah had said. I, naturally curious about what she’d wanted to share, clicked the link. That music was seared into my head as I watched the horror unfold on my computer monitor.

Sarah would likely be mortified to find that rather than pure disgust, there was a twinge of fascination accompanying my discomfort. A fact about myself that, until today, I’ve only shared with one soul. I couldn’t look away from the train wreck as those two women…did what they did. I watched the entire video. Twice.

Afterward I trounced Sarah with every cuss word I could think of, called her the biggest bitch alive and filled her messenger screen with pages of puke emoticons. She struck back with a volley of “lol”s. We then made plans to meet up for the weekend, and signed off. Well…she did…I merely went to invisible mode, and again clicked the link.

Now I’m no prude, but my growing obsession was not in any way sexual. My eyes were glued to the naked girls consuming one another’s waste for a different reason. A not-entirely explainable reason. I was captivated by the fact that not only were they doing it, but that they were doing it for an audience. I wanted to understand their why. In a way I identified with the unseen camera operator. To experience something like that, live…that had to be a once in a lifetime thing, right?

Over the school year, the spark those women lit grew into an inferno. I found myself secretly scouring the internet for similar videos. Sarah wasn’t my only friend, and like I mentioned before “getting” each other had become the year’s entertainment. I’d had to play angry each time a new video was sent my way…but in reality I hungrily watched each one with fascination.

I kept up my prissy ruse throughout the remainder of the school year, and then graduation came. With it, a boom of new additions to my messenger friends. Apparently even those I’d never spoken a word to wanted to remain connected as we spread our wings. One of those gained friends came in the form of Chase Lincoln.

I knew of Chase, but our circles never came together. I couldn’t remember us ever interacting. I accepted his friend request without much thought. It was a short time late…maybe a couple of days or a week…when I saw the blinking chat bar bearing his name upon logging in to my messenger. When I clicked on it, my heart almost skipped a beat. The link wasn’t disguised as anything cutesy…no, it boldly stated exactly what it was. I clicked on it, a bit disappointed to see that it was indeed labeled correctly.

My screen went to the familiar, gaping asshole of “Goatse” that I’d seen countless times. I sighed and closed the image. I didn’t know what I expected.

“Gonna have to try harder than that, bud.” I typed back absently.

Honestly didn’t even expect a reply. Usually the thrill for the shower comes when the victim of their prank freaks out, and I’d denied Chase the pleasure. So when I heard the ping, my curiosity was roused.

“Seen 2girls1cup?” He’d relied. Something seemed strange to me. His message was simple, and didn’t seem to be disappointed or anything. Just a simple question. Almost like…he was legitimately SHARING with me rather than trying to “get” me. It would explain why he’d brazenly decided not to shield the prior link. My heart picked up speed as I decided to test the waters…and my theory.

“Yea, a bunch of times.” I answered, and didn’t blink as I awaited Chase’s response.

He finally replied with, “Too mild?”

Suddenly my secret shame was thrust into the spotlight. It felt instantly like Chase Lincoln understood me…I felt seen, and with that a rush washed through me.

“After the first dozen times I looked it up its lost its charm.” I said back, my fingers trembling as I typed.

As I waited on his words, I realized I was ignoring every other blinking chat box…and I didn’t care. I was laser focused on the new revelation that I wasn’t alone in my morbid interest.

“Not for the faint of heart.” Chase’s words appeared on my screen, followed by a link. I clicked without hesitation, and my eyes widened as my brain took in a new image.

The body on my screen was that of a young woman, nude, in the process of having an autopsy performed on her. Her ribcage was opened, revealing her innards and her scalp had been removed exposing her brain. One of her eyes had been plucked from its socket and placed into her mouth, where it stared blankly at the camera. Her body was being degraded and molested by the mortician as well, as evident by the gloved finger inserted into her sex. The scene was grisly, disturbing…and I refused to look away until the “ping” of Chase’s chat box stole my attention back.

“Too much?” It read.

I hesitated a moment, my heart fluttering, my nerves burning. And then I responded with a single word.

“No.”

The conversation went on, and I found myself sitting at my computer chatting with Chase long into the night. We shared our deep thoughts, our obsessions with the dark and macabre. Kindred spirits finding solace in being able to openly confess to one another. He understood me.

Days went on, hot summer sun burned above, but I found myself spending my days indoors indulging my dark side with Chase. He’d have a new twisted scene to share with me nearly every day, and of course I’d hungrily accept the offering each and every time. I knew that I was fucked up, but I didn’t feel like it when speaking with Chase. I’d frequently asked him where he managed to find such fascinating pictures and videos…I trolled the best gore sites I could find, but never once had I seen any of the goods he shared. He’d always replied the same way…

“I’ll show you one day.” He’d say. One day, he kept his word.

It was nearing the end of summer. Trees were in the very beginning of their color change, and the occasional cool breeze offered relief from the sweltering heat. Things were going as usual and our chat had turned to our mutual interest.

“I wanna show you a new one.” Chase popped off with.

“Yes please.” I answered back.

“No, this time I want you to see it in person. Its brand new, just posted, and I wanted us to see it for the first time together.” He replied after a moment.

I felt my face flush. That was honestly something I didn’t expect. Our dark curiosities had brought us together online, but the possibility that it would go beyond that never REALLY occurred to me. It felt more…exposed…that way. The very thought made me nervous, but as soon as my fingers touched the keyboard, I found them agreeing without any hesitation.

Chase sent me his address, and explained that his parents were out of town. I hurriedly got dressed, and was there in under twenty minutes. I’d not seen Chase since graduation, and was a bit taken aback when he opened the door of his home to me. His jet black hair was spiked up, and he’d elected to grow a bit of facial hair. It looked good on him. He wore a grunge band’s shirt and basketball shorts, and for the first time I saw the boy as “handsome”. He smiled, and wordlessly invited me in with a jerk of his head.

I felt awkward, and my nerves were on fire as I followed him up a set of stairs to his room. There was something else bubbling up inside of me, too…attraction. I caught myself eyeing his back muscles, and stopped myself before checking out his ass. We reached the summit of the staircase, and marched toward the door at the far end of the hallway.

Chase threw open the door to his room, and I saw what was inside. Nothing outrageous or anything. A few band posters adorned the walls, his bed was messily made, and in the corner, near the lone window, was a small computer desk. The screen saver on the monitor sitting upon it was the green falling text from the “Matrix” movies. It dawned on me that this was the very place he’d been communicating with me from all summer. Felt a little surreal, but not in a bad way.

“You ready?” He asked, his voice more gruff and manly than I imagined. I nodded as he wheeled the office chair out and offered it to me.

I sat and he hovered behind me, his warm breath on the back of my neck as he leaned beside me and wiggled the computer mouse. The descending green text vanished. On the screen I saw a strange browser that looked nothing like the one I used. My heart throbbed in my chest as my eyes scanned over the huge list of links displayed. They were labeled crazy things like “SawbladeUrethra.mp4”, and “PutridSexObject.mov”…disturbing…and right up my alley. Chase moved the pointer to one called “BabyHorseHead.mp4”. I felt his breath on my neck quicken as he clicked.

It was a dimly lit, concrete room that filled the screen. On the ground was the decapitated body of a horse lying on its side, blood spurting from what was left of the neck. My skin prickled as I watched the pool of crimson grow around the equine cadaver. The head of said horse was nowhere in frame. Then, the horror came. It was silent, but the screaming face of the newborn could clearly be seen as a masked figure stepped into frame carrying the baby. The adult held it lovingly, the little one propped against their shoulder as if it were about to be burped. That’s the furthest thing from what happened though…The masked adult knelt beside the spurting stump of the horse, and proceeded to roughly stuff the baby inside the neck hole of the animal feet first. My stomach turned but I as so often was the case, I could not look away. I watched as the helpless baby was shoved aggressively into the mutilated animal until only its screaming head protruded. The masked adult then exited the room without even a glimpse back, and the video continued showing the screaming child’s head on the dead animal’s body for thirty more seconds until abruptly ending.

“Fuck…” I whispered, finally managing to pull my eyes away from the screen.

“Yeah.” Chase muttered, and I saw his face was equal parts horrified and fascinated with what we’d just seen. He stood, wrapping his hands around to the back of his head.

That’s when I saw something else. My eyes fell to his lap, where his basketball shorts betrayed a certain…physical reaction. He stood at full attention. Perhaps he had forgotten he was wearing such loose fabric, because when he saw the angle of my stare he blushed a deep red, and turned to hide his arousal.

Suddenly…suddenly I didn’t want him too. Seeing him in such a state had bubbled up similar feelings within me. It wasn’t the video that did it. Neither of us were having the reaction from what we saw, but instead it was BECAUSE we saw it. I didn’t even realize I’d jumped from the chair until I found myself locking lips with the boy. Hastily, we tore one another’s clothing off, and made love there on his bed. He was a gentle lover, and everything felt so strong and natural as we reached the pinnacle together. I’d never felt so understood.

“You really get me, Shay.” He muttered as he lay beside me, recovering, caressing my shoulder. I moaned a sigh of agreement, and closed my eyes reveling in the blissful feeling. “That’s why I want you to help me with something.”

“Hm?” I questioned, my eyes remaining closed until I felt him leave the bed.

I watched as he shamelessly strutted toward his computer in the nude. I sat up, clutching the blanket to my chest, and stared inquisitively. He seemed to sense this, as he continued speaking without looking back.

“You understand. I want to be immortalized…like they are.” He announced.

“What do you mean?” I questioned.

“That baby…it probably died, we both know that…but the legacy it’ll leave…that’s truly special.” Chase explained. “That’s part of why I asked you over today.” He finally turned his face to meet my gaze. “ I need a camera person.”

From the drawer of his desk he produced a small camcorder. He held it up so that I’d have a clear view of the device. I didn’t quite understand what he was getting at, but the tingles had again washed over my body. I was feeling more alive than ever. I felt…well, lets just say I lowered the blanket, and exposed myself to Chase. He was letting me see him…the real him, and I felt the need to be just as vulnerable.

“Will you help me?” He asked sincerely. I was almost in a trance. I knew that things could only go badly, but his desire to be immortalized…his honesty and openness…I felt almost intoxicated. I nodded dreamily, standing but making no effort to cover my self. I extended my hand and took the camcorder.

“What are you going to do?” I asked, lazily opening the recorder’s screen and fiddling with the settings.

He turned and bent down toward the drawer again. I made no effort to avoid admiring his muscular ass that time. When he stood again, he held a pistol. I stared at it for a moment before silently pointing the camera in his direction. I made sure I had him completely in frame as he checked the gun to make sure it was prepared.

“My dad’s.” He said stoically. “This is all you need to upload the video.” He gestured with the gun toward the computer. “Plug it in once its done, and drag and drop the file. That’s it.”

I nodded, a small voice in the back of my head questioning what the hell I was doing, but that voice was drowned out by the much more boisterous, thrilling voice. “Once in a lifetime…” It exuded.

I pointed the camera at Chase, and pressed record upon his instruction.

“You don’t want to stop this?” Chase asked playfully as he pressed the barrel of the gun beneath his chin. Slowly, I looked up at him from the screen, and shook my head.

He grinned, and pulled the hammer back. The bullet clicking into place echoed through the room. Even though I’d been expecting the bang, it was louder than I thought it would be. Loud enough even, to rip my back down to reality. He’d fucking done it, and the moment that bullet ripped through his skull, my world changed. The boisterous voice dissipated immediately, replaced by my own screams.

“Oh my god, oh my god…” I hysterically repeated. I knew there was a possibility he’d pull the trigger, but a part of me…a big part expected him to chicken out. I thought he was testing me…no…no that wasn’t true. I’d wanted him to do it. I’d wanted to witness such a moment…but now that I had…

I fought to keep myself from throwing up as I looked at the blood spattered wall behind him, the red splash dripping on the computer intermingling with the green text falling on the screen. I shakily dropped the camcorder onto the floor, and gathered my clothes. All summer I’d been unable to pry my eyes away from the horrors displayed on a computer, but in real life I couldn’t force myself to look at the body of Chase Lincoln.

I should have stopped it. I could have. What had I done? These thoughts raced threw my head as I threw my outfit on and rushed through the bedroom door. I bounded through the hallway and down the stairs, pushing my way through the front door. I didn’t look back at the house as I leaped into my car and sped away.

I was sure the police would be coming for me. I was positive. I tried to convince myself to go to them, to explain what had happened…but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Days passed, and with each one my anxiety grew. Where the fuck were they? Surely there was some evidence in that house that tied me to it. I racked my brain every minute of every day, and came to the conclusion that the camcorder would certainly have my voice on it. Maybe that wasn’t enough to pinpoint me. Yeah, sure…just a voice that could belong to any girl. Then I remembered that there would definitely be a record of our conversations saved somewhere in his computer. There was no way the evidence wouldn’t lead them right to me. So where the hell were they? Weeks went by…months…all without incident.

The day I moved out of my parents house, and indeed the state…was the same day that I saw the “MISSING” poster. I was on my way out of town when I stopped for a fill up, and there was Chase Lincoln, staring at me from a small sheet of paper taped to the glass window. Missing. That made no sense to me. How could he be MISSING?! My thoughts raced as pumped the gas. Once I was finished, I hauled ass out of that town. I never went back. I’d somehow had a guardian angel watching over me, and that had helped me escape…

Thirteen years. Its been thirteen years since Chase Lincoln’s suicide. I still think about it quite often. I’ve since absolved myself of any guilt I felt. He was going to do it whether I tried to stop him or not. He’d had a gun after all, who’s to say he wouldn’t have shot me first had I tried. Telling myself those things has helped me. A mentally disturbed boy I’d crossed paths with…that’s all.

Today, though, my heart skipped a beat in a way it hasn’t in quite a long time. My smartphone dinged, letting me know that I’d received an email. My breath quickened when I saw that the sender was my own, old email address. The one I’d used to instant message with my friends thirteen years ago. The subject read “I KNOW”, and the body of the message contained only a single link. My finger trembled as I tapped it, and I clenched my eyes tightly closed as Chase Lincoln’s voice penetrated my ears.

“You don’t want to stop this?”

#girls #cup #ruined #life

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