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I’m sitting, alone. In this chair. Well, I’m not alone. I've got people on each side of me, making sure I don’t “try anything”. I've also got people staring at me through a glass window, ha ha, yeah. Why don’t you guys say hi to the nice people reading this? No? Okay, your loss. Let’s talk about me here a little bit. My hair is black, long, covers my face, and I wear black gloves, black pants, and a red and black hoodie. Any questions? Good! Now back on topic. Who are all these people with me you may say? Well, the people next to me are prison guards. The people in the room are high-class fancy rich people, just waiting for me to die. You see, this is no ordinary chair. It’s an electric chair. I’m meant to die soon, so I might as well tell you my story. My name, is Cooked the Psychopath, and this is where it all begins.

I was born on September 5th 1999, blah blah blah blah blah! You get the moral of it. I was born in an insane asylum. Crazy right? My mother wasn’t all to right in the head. Hey, what can I say, neither am I, I mean, I'm here aren't I? As I was born, my eyes were closed, naturally, but there was something strange. I opened my eyes, only a few minutes after I was born, which barely happens if you think about it. When my mother saw my beautiful eyes, she screamed. She screamed because I had no pupils. The doctors thought she was having a mental breakdown and took me away from her. Big mistake. I screamed at the top of my lungs and their ears started to bleed. I screamed so loud, everyone in the room died, except for me. As I lay on the ground (or should I say dead bodies) a man came in. His name was Zalgo. He saw me there, just sitting, doing baby things. He took me in, fed me baby food (his case was mental illness due to a flight to the moon exploding while his friend was in it and for some reason will only eat baby food.) until I was 2. After that he caved in and ate the food they gave him, although he gave me most. He would say things like someday "I’ll be great", "I’ll be good", "I’ll make the world a better place!" Boy was he wrong. By the age of 3, he started acting really weird. Lack of food made him mad with hunger. From time to time you could catch him trying to cook me. Because of that, he called me Cooked, and the name just stuck.

When I was 5, they caught him. They realized he was taking more than anybody else, yet he was still terribly skinny. They decided to investigate. They found me there and had no record of me at all. The only thing that could come close to me was the incident 5 years ago where a mother had a child and everyone in the room was dead and the child was no where to be seen. They had finally found that child, and the murder of all those people. Only they thought it was Zalgo, and I saw them beat him with my very eyes. Sure he was insane, and tried to cook me from time to time, but he was my only friend. I saw him as a fatherly figure to me, and they took that away from me. I wanted to just kill them, kill every last one of them. As I sat in the corner watching them beat him, I cried. I cried until the last drop of blood came from his cold dead body.

I was brought to an orphanage, I hated that place, for two reasons. One: it didn’t feel like home, and two: no one dared come near me, it was like I was a diseased rat. Not even the owner of the orphanage. I guess you could say I had lots of love in my life. In school, it was no different. Not only was I treated like trash, but I was also the troublemaker. Kindergarten: I broke at least 2 windows, per month. 1st grade: I gave the class bully a wedgie everyday, along with everyone else. 2nd grade: I burnt the library down. 3rd grade: I broke the teacher’s rib. 4th grade: I stole the principle’s “toy” and not only did I get in trouble, but so did she. 5th grade: I asked the hottest girl in my grade out and she said no, so I cut her hair off. 6th grade (my first year of middle school!): I brought a knife with me everyday. 7th grade: I caught the Principle and Vice Principle fucking (thing here was, they were both girls!). Now in my 8th grade year, I had mugged 200 kids at my school. In 9th nothing really happened, except for the fact that I crippling 17 kids that year by tripping them on the stairs. Now I'm in 10th grade. So far, only 5 trips to the police station. (new record!) I’m your casual 16-year-old boy, only I actually made a friend. His name was Billy, pretty cool guy. He was an outcast like me, and I respected that. We did a lot of bad thing together, but half way through the year, I had to do one of my own. I had found out Billy had killed himself, stabbed himself in the heart. I went to his place, saw the knife was no longer there. Went to the police station, killed all the people stationed there, found the knife he had used, and took it.

I broke into some guys house, and stole his gasoline, and his lighter. I stopped at other houses as well to get gasoline, and stole a wagon from a child to hold it all. I went to the school, that dreadful place, and killed. I killed every person in that place, no survivors. In the end, I took the gasoline and poured it all over the building. I left one spot out though, and in that spot I carved with some kid’s bone that I had sharpened on the wall. I then, burnt the whole place down. By the time the police arrived, there was only one wall standing, and what they found was these letters carved into the wall, “CtP”. I walked for a while until I saw something that caught my eye. The insane asylum. I had found home. At last, home. I clenched the knife in my hand and walked up to the building. What I found confused me. There was blood all over the walls, and dead bodies everywhere. As I walked through the door, it was worse. Corpses everywhere, people who had a family, dead. Who could have done this, I wanted to do this. That sack of shit! I looked around the place and saw a satanic circle on the ground of the cafeteria. Curiously I approached, and got a terrible headache. Then suddenly I had a flashback. It was really blurry, but I could make out some guy in goggles killing the people in the insane asylum. The flash back ended as soon as he left the building, but how did I have a flashback of some guy’s memory that I’ve never met? Oh well never mind that, it’s over and that’s all that matters. I step in the circle and start messing around by saying random words that come to mind and pretend that they’re cursed words to bring the dead back. I fainted. I woke up and swore I saw a shadowy figure above me, but it vanished as soon as I saw it. I got up and walked around, I may not have seen every room here, but this place held memories. Like that time Zalgo chased me through the halls when I got out, or when I broke my arm and had to treat it himself. Ah, good times.

I came across a room with a window, and it was the only one so far. I went in to see doctor’s tools. I messed around with them for a while, and came across a button. It was a colorful button. I pressed it and a picture of an X-Ray came up. It showed the skull of what looked like someone my age, with lots of scars. As I looked closer I saw that the word Devil was written where the brain was, and the scars were on both side of the mouth, forming a smile. I had another flashback along with a terrible headache. I was looking through this kid’s eyes, and what I saw terrified me. I was looking at myself in the mirror, and I was holding a knife up to my face, cutting a smile in. I felt the pain as I started cry. My face felt leathery and dry. Even though I was crying, I was laughing. I was laughing like a mad man. I heard something to my left, it was this kid’s mother. After a boring conversation, I killed. I killed everyone in the house. The flashback ended, I was crying in pain. Why? Why does this keep happening? All these flashbacks, they’re not mine. So, why?

I then felt like I was suddenly going to hurl, and ran to where I remember a bathroom I came across. I never made it to the toilet, but the sink instead. As I looked up in the mirror I saw the boy with the scars on his face, smiling at me. As I looked at it, it seemed to be coming closer to me. It started to speak, “Hello, my name is Jeff. What’s yours?” I didn’t reply. “Silent? Can you not speak? Come on, answer my question.” “I-I don’t have a name, but I go by Cooked.” “Cooked hmm? That’s a weird name. I never expected my new body would have such a weird name.” “New body? What are you talking about?” “My name is Jeff, I look beautiful no?” “What? That makes no since.” “Why aren’t you smiling?” “Why are you bothering me?” “Can we be friends?” “Why did I have your flashback?” “Am I beautiful?” “WHO ARE YOU, AND WHY AM I HAVING YOUR FLASHBACKS?!” He stood there for a few seconds shocked by my sudden burst. “I am you.” “What?” “Yes, I am you. You are me. We are one. You are the body, I am the spirit.” He started to come closer, “ Now then, time for me to return to the body of the demon.” He entered my body and I felt a sudden burst of pleasure. A demon, is that what I am? Well then, I might as well be a damn flamingo cause I’m going to kill, and when I say kill. I mean kill.

I went to the prison in that small town, and I just walked through without the guards noticing me at all. I went to the jail rooms, unlocked every cell with my knife, one by one. I killed a few to let them know who was in charge. One stabbed my stomach, so I stabbed theirs. I felt pain, but the pain did nothing to me. Finally I made it to the warden’s room, and broke in. I went up to him and held the knife up to his throat and told him these simple words, “I’ve killed many, I let the prisoners free, and I’m not afraid to kill one more. So I beg of you here, kill me. Give me the death sentence. The chair, anything you got! Just kill me!” The warden looked at me and just said, “Little boy, put that knife away, it won’t do you any good here. I am not giving some kid a one way ticket to death row.” I pulled the knife away, and with one blast of anger my hair flew out of my face revealing my pupiless eyes, and a flaming Katana in the hand where my knife once was. I held it to his face saying, “Give me the chair.”

So here I am, sitting in this damn chair. “Just start the damn thing already.” Oh yeah did I forget to mention, they shaved my head? Bad move. The guard starts counting down. “5. 4. 3. 2. 1.” They turn it on. I scream in pain as I’m getting electrocuted by volts and volts of electricity! I'm slowly dying! Na I’m kidding, this ain't shit. I’m slowly taking my time to unhook my self from this chair. I get up quickly. Okay I know what you’re going to say here, “Why do that when you can just kill them all first?” Well I’ll tell you. Ain't nobody wanna be bald! I mean think here, do you wanna be bald?! (If you are bald or going bald I am terribly sorry.) I laugh a little bit, you know, show them I’m mad. I decide to say something cool, so I said the first thing that came to mind, “Shocking, isn't it?” I burst out the window screaming at the top of my lungs as I fall down 20 stories. Believe me, the impact hurt, a lot.

Now you are reading this all alone, in the dead of the night. Even if not, you are. This is my story, I can do what ever I want. I could make this a sex scene for all I care! So when I say you’re all alone reading this in the dead of the night, you're doing that! Now then back to the story thank you very much! You’re reading this as you hear a tapping. You don’t know where the tapping is coming from, but you turn around and look out your window. You scream as you see me there, smiling and tapping my knife on your window, just waiting for more victims. I believe this is the part where it ends, because even if I continued who would be there to read it?


Written by TheCookedRice

Co-story to Xero

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