Chapter 1: C.J. by Prince of Ashe

The backstreets of Seoul, soaked through to the bone. Long night spent drinking, blaring music droned out into the ringing in your ears, lyrics belted off-tune.
2:47am, you and your friends stumble through the alleyways. High-pitched giggles and drunken hiccuping cascaded from wall to wall.
Off-trail, you drag yourselves to an old, long-since abandoned stone shack, coated thick in overgrowth. In the dark, you very nearly face-plant directly down into an open stairwell.
Palms pressed firm into the rough brick of either wall, you make your way down into the black on unsteady legs, hushed giggles echoing through the empty halls below.
Dark, well-kept sneakers crack against the floor beneath someone's feet-light turned unsteadily back towards the ground.
Your friend stands frozen, sneaker pitch black against the dulled tone of the skull shattered under foot.
Heart in your throat, you stumble forward, friends slowly left, frozen or abandon, with each room you look through.
In the distance, the scrape and rattle of metal rings, dull and garbled into nothing more than static to your drunken ears.
Images burned into the backs of your eyes-skeletons complete, lacking, crushed and scraped dragged through the halls-blood-splattered ceilings, soaked floors and marked walls-chains, long-since ruined equipment thrown haphazard against walls, gates and cages, locked doors and lost keys.
Flashlight long since left behind with a friend glued tight to the spot, you stumble forward, eyes locked onto the dull, gray-green glow of an in-tact monitor, stood on an unstable desk at the end of the hall.
As you grow closer, stand before the unsteady black of the computer screen, sticky and missing old keys of the keyboard but an inch from your finger tips, the screen begins to flicker.
Shades of black and white and grey flicker violent in the screen, harsh and unsteady as the static of a TV.
You watch on as the screen blacks out, left in the dark.
Fingers twitch as you watch the screen light back up, black and dull in the narrow halls. The bright, neon green line of the command line blinks against the dull light.
Slowly, the letters S.E.O, bright as the command line blink and glitch against the screen.
Slowly, you lean in and click E N T E R.













(Nowhere near complete at the moment, nor will it be a great deal longer when it is complete, but it is the beginning of a series of short stories, very, very loosely connected, if at all.)

If you get stuck, of course feel free to ask for help. Some functions are not available quite yet, but I am working on it when the time presents itself.