Page 2 of Hunt for You

SleepingBeast:Goodnight D.

DeadGirlWalking:Just answer the question. Are you, or are you not, going to hunt me down to primal-fuck me, then kill me?

DeadGirlWalking:TELL ME.

DeadGirlWalking:Beast?

DeadGirlWalking:For fuck’s sake.

DeadGirlWalking:This better be part of the game, otherwise I’m reporting you to the Manager. Call me a dark-web Karen.

DeadGirlWalking:Seriously, I need confirmation here. You said this could take weeks—months? I can’t go through another Christmas alone because you got bashful. If you aren’t coming I need to find someone else.

DeadGirlWalking:I’m doing this with you or without you. You get that, right?

DeadGirlWalking:Would you just answer the fucking question?

DeadGirlWalking:This brings a whole new meaning to “the strong, silent type.”

DeadGirlWalking:Fucker. Or should it benon-fucker?

DeadGirlWalking:Just tell me.

DeadGirlWalking:Is this one of those moments when a guy thinks what he’s doing is foreplay, but it’s not? Because it’s not, just in case you were wondering. I’m being fucked right now. And not in the fun way.

DeadGirlWalking:Beast?

DeadGirlWalking:Fine. I guess I’ll just wait and see. But I’m keeping my options open. If another dude shoots his shot (literally) and beats you to it, that’s going to be your fault for not making your intentions clear.

DeadGirlWalking:Should have put a ring on it. Just sayin’.

SleepingBeast:Stop whining. We’ll meet.

DeadGirlWalking:Thank God. How soon?

DeadGirlWalking:Growl once for “this week” and twice for “this calendar month.”

SleepingBeast:Goodnight, D.

SleepingBeast:Sleep while you can.

DeadGirlWalking:Wait! Don’t you need my address or number or something?

[SleepingBeast has left the chat.]

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I pushed away from my desk, heart racing so fast I wondered if I was going to pass out. My vision was tunneling.

Holy shit, this was really happening.

Finally.

It was strange blinking back to my real life and my real body. Every time I was online I kind of got lost in the virtual world.

My psychiatrist called itescapism.

I called it relief fromexistential crisis and the utter fucking tedium of this world.

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