Author Topic: Your House (Read 82146 times)

GLKnight · « **Reply #15 on:** August 25, 2021, 08:35:51 am »

The next thing I knew, I was sitting on the couch in the living room. There was a palpable pain in my... well, my EVERYTHING. I could barely move, that's how much pain I was in. I was on the verge of screaming as I stood up. My arms felt like fleshy gelatin and my legs felt like they belonged to a statue. It was an absolute nightmare to get up, but slowly and biting the inside of my cheek the whole way up, I got off the couch and started walking towards the kitchen cause I was thirsty as all Hell. And sweaty. Why was I sweaty?

As I shuffled out of the room, I passed by the mirror over the side table. I looked in and couldn't believe my eyes. I was covered in dirt and grass and more, like I had just gotten in from yardwork. And was that... oil on my hands? Why did I have car oil on me? I looked like a sweaty, exhausted mess.

"That can't be," I thought to myself as I tottered into the kitchen towards my phone. "It's still 6 AM! My mind must be playing tricks-"

I gasped. The phone was telling me it was after four o'clock in the afternoon! HOW?! Thankfully, my stomach gurgling loudly drew my attention. I had missed breakfast, and seemingly lunch as well. So, figuring I could grab something from the fridge, I went to get something to eat. But as soon as I saw the damn thing, I froze in my tracks. The fridge was... different. Like something you'd see in a professional kitchen, with the window to show you everything that was inside and whatnot. But it had a giant touchscreen with a number pad on it. As I checked it out, a woman's voice started to speak.

"Please enter Pin Number," it said.

"Pin number?", I asked, not expecting an answer.

"Yes," it replied, causing me to jump a little. This thing could RESPOND to your questions?! Did this get installed today?!

"What if I don't HAVE a pin number?", I asked it. Suddenly, a bluish white light begin to emit from the top of the touchpad, sweeping over me before beeping.

"Resident identified. Name: Nowell, Desmond. Ranking: F. Not authorized to use this device."

"WHAT?!", I shouted, not believing what I was hearing. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN NOT AUTHORIZED?!"

"Please change your tone," the fridge warned me. "Or else I will have to notify the Resident in charge of this home."

"I OWN this place," I told the damn Speak-And-Spell.

"This domicile is no longer under the ownership of resident Nowell, Desmond."

I was taken aback. This fucking thing was telling me that this wasn't my house? Then whose house was-

I could feel my blood run cold. It couldn't be. There's no way...

"Then tell me who DOES own this house," I trepidatiously asked it.

The fridge beeped before replying.

"Current owner: Nowell, Laura. Ranking: A. In compliance with the Department Of Equivalence Statutes of participation, all residency claims in regard to ownership and finances goes to the head of household, specifically those of the highest ranking. In regards to two or more of highest ranking in one household, importance is placed with the person who filed for participation. That would be Nowell, Laura."

My sight began to swim as I grew dizzy at that news. My mom... She followed through on what she said! She knew THE WHOLE TIME and left me to dangle in the breeze! I began to hyperventilate as I stumbled towards the table.

"You are in the midst of a panic attack," the fridge methodically added. "If this persists, you may pass out or suffer potentially worse. Do you want me to call for medical support?"

I quickly sat down and put my hands on my head. She actually knew. The whole time, it wasn't a threat. It was what she DID. She must have come here for that exact reason.

"Damn you," I moaned, the fire within me quickly kindling. "God damn you! GOD FUCKING DAMN YOU, MOM!"

"Please refrain from comments such as that," the voice said. "As head of household, resident Nowell, Laura shall be treated with dignity and respect as she deserves."

"WHAT FUCKING RESPECT," I screamed at the machine as I shot out of my chair. "THIS IS MY FUCKING HOUSE! I BOUGHT IT! I'VE BEEN TRYING TO GET CUSTODY OF MY SISTER TO GET HER OUT OF MY MOM'S CLUTCHES, AND NOW YOU'RE SAYING MY BITCH MOTHER HAS TAKEN CONTROL OF MY LIFE AGAIN?!"

"Security measures are activated," the voice said, echoed in earshot from multiple rooms in the house before a powerful, painful whine filled my ears. I grabbed my head, trying to block out the sound. But it was no use. It was like a sonic drill, boring through flesh and bone as it penetrated my brain, causing a sweeping fire to overwhelm my senses. I was barely able to cry out before collapsing on myself, twitching and screaming. Unable to do anything except being put into a world of suffering as the invisible buzz saw gorelessly tore me apart until I was left a crying, drooling mess that was constantly bellowing in pain on the cold kitchen floor.

I was in such indescribable agony that I never heard the front door opening, nor the sound of someone running into the room. I couldn't even feel them cradling me and rocking me back and forth to try and comfort me.

"SYSTEM OVERRIDE," was all I heard, followed by a string of numbers I couldn't make out before the pure, hellacious agony stopped. I was on the verge of passing out once more as I began to breathe without the feeling that every ounce of air was crushing my lungs. As I looked up, I noticed who it was that was holding me.

"D-Desiree...?", was all I could ask before passing out.

The next thing I knew, it was dark and I was in bed. And in a LOT of pain. And hungrier still. As I groaned and strained to turn over and look at my clock, I noticed a sandwich and some milk on my nightstand. And the clock, it said Nine Fifty Three. I was out for another five hours? I was in the kitchen, and now I was in bed-

"Oh fuck," I said, realizing I could feel the sheets on my skin. Slowly sitting upright, I pushed the covers off of me to see that, thankfully, I was still wearing my boxers. As I grabbed the sandwich, which I noticed was Peanut Butter and Jelly, I felt my mind clearing up enough to wonder who took me upstairs. I'm sure it wasn't Desiree, since she's only fourteen and not that strong. Definitely wasn't mom, she'd have had me drug to the couch. So who brought me to my room and put me in my bed? But those thoughts soon faded as I savored every bite of my sandwich. Though I knew I'd have to go to the bathroom soon, which would be a bitch because my legs were mostly non-responsive, for some reason. But a good night's rest might fix that issue. So I did the only things I could at that moment. I ate and went back to bed.

Forum Saradas · « **Reply #15 on:** August 25, 2021, 08:35:51 am »

Creating physiques since 2008

Biceps108 · « **Reply #16 on:** August 25, 2021, 08:49:14 am »

Nice chapter!

Sounder9- · « **Reply #17 on:** August 25, 2021, 09:06:16 am »

Damn, Nice update! So not only there is reinforcement, its downright slavery mixed in a trance - like state. Which also means anything can happen and Desmond would only wake up after
the commands\tasks have been completed (or worse). It also makes me think Laura will do anything to him short of killing himself to get what she wants. Also that this Equivalence Department is quite the
sinister thing; sinister in creating this kind of program and basically wiping out a person down to an automaton, with a dangling hope that their ranking could be adjusted. While Desiree is a saving
grace from this for Desmond, its only a matter of time before Laura does something even worse.

GLKnight · « **Reply #18 on:** August 25, 2021, 10:28:05 am »

Before anyone points out the error with the names of the main characters, I purposefully chose to go with Nowell instead of Cavalleri. Nowell just works better imo, and I'm going with for the household form this point on.

phil123 · « **Reply #19 on:** August 28, 2021, 05:37:09 am »

Great chapter. Would like to read the next steps of mom and the device

GLKnight · « **Reply #20 on:** August 30, 2021, 03:21:06 am »

When I woke up the day after everything went down, I quickly realized that my legs were absolutely shot. Scratch that, EVERYTHING about me was shot. I could barely move, really. It felt like my body just didn't want to respond at all. Even bodily functions didn't want to work. I didn't sweat, or get hungry or thirsty. I didn't even feel like I needed to use the bathroom, which was the strangest thing of all because Desiree was the only one who came to make sure I was eating and doing alright.

She'd sit with me and we'd talk about things like school and whatnot. But there was something sitting in the back of my mind that I wanted to discuss with her, but it kept slipping away from me like a fish in a pond full of algae. No matter how hard I tried to grab onto it, it kept wriggling away from me. But it wasn't just my mind that was not cooperating. I asked Desi who brought me up to my room on more than one occasion, but she kept giving me a pensive look before changing the subject.

It was on Friday that I found I had feeling in my body once again. Realizing that you were sleeping on your stomach, and that you really, REALLY needed to use the bathroom are quick motivators to climb out of bed, only to learn that your entire being was made of pins and needles. I nearly collapsed, counting my lucky stars that I had my nightstand to break my fall. Gasping and grunting and breathing sharply the whole way, I walked like a newborn out of my room and down to the toilet as quickly as I could. And for what felt like an hour, I stayed there like a broken toy king on a throne as all of his stuffing was being pulled out of him. Voiding oneself is a fucking WEIRD feeling, let me tell you. The innate sense of emptiness, accompanied by the dull ache of your body having been so tensed up due to how much was stretching you out is not something most people would like to experience, I think. It's like being a giant circle, only to have the center disappear within. Really surreal, honestly.

Cleaning up, I gently stood up to wash my hands, only to stop as I looked in the mirror. Bringing a hand to my face, I was taken aback with the fact that I looked thinner. Like, noticeably thinner. The kind of thin that only comes from a restrictive diet. Even lifting up my shirt, I noticed I lost some muscle mass on my body, as well. In the three days I was trapped in bed, it looked like I had lost over ten pounds. Laying in bed, doing nothing? That's not an exercise plan. I was eating, so I should have put on weight. What in the ever loving fuck was going on?

Carefully walking downstairs, I noticed mom and Desiree dressed in workout clothes as they walked to the door, carrying gym bags and water bottles.

"Where are you going?", I asked, tired and drained. Mom's head turned first, shooting me a look of disappointment before Desi ran up to me and hugged me.

"You're awake," she quietly said, holding me tight enough for me to know she was worried but not tight enough to cause discomfort.

"Glad you're up," mom said, rolling her eyes. "Des, we have an appointment to keep. Let's go."

"Appointment," I asked, disentangling myself from Desiree. "An appointment where?"

"Our new gym," my sister said, moving back to my mother's side. "It's... part of the Equivalence Department's orders."

"If you give me a moment," I said, turning to go back upstairs. "I can join you. Make this a full-"

"It's a women's only gym," mom said, giving me an authoritative look. "Specifically, A Ranks."

I gave Desiree a look, imploring for her to tell me more only to see her look downward. Her knuckles white as she gripped the strap of her gym bag.

"I'm sorry, Des. You have to stay here."

I couldn't help but start to laugh.

"So, what? This whole time, the stay at home order was more for people like me?"

"Yes," my mom said, clearly annoyed at me holding her up. "One of the privileges of being an A Rank, Desmond. You wouldn't understand, being an F and all that."

Mom quickly reached out, grabbing Desiree by her wrist and quickly pulling her out of the house.

"Stop dawdling," she commanded her. "We've got things to do today, Desi. Let's not waste any more time talking to your brother, now."

Without a chance to tell me bye, mom pulled Desi out to the car, practically yelling at her to get in and driving off. Leaving me to stare out the front door in a state of confusion and hunger. I waited a few minutes before the growling in my stomach grew too loud. So I slowly closed the door and walked into the kitchen. And I froze. I could practically still hear that damn frequency again in my head as I turned to look at the refrigerator that was put in my home on Monday without me knowing. I wanted to walk up to it, grab a chair and start swinging until the damn thing was nothing but a pile of junk. But I couldn't. Some part of me just froze when I saw it. I started rubbing my forehead at the phantom migraine I was feeling just being near it. So instead of following my destructive urges, I just walked over to the sink, got a glass of water and a banana from a nearby counter and sat down without even looking at the damn thing.

But as I was peeling the first thing since I was upright, a loud knock on the door interrupted the unsettled silence.

"Be right there," I shouted out, slowly pushing out of my chair. Shuffling to the door, there was another loud series of knocks as I reached for the door handle. Before I could even get to it, the door swung open. The doorknob jamming against my hand as the edge of the door smacked my wrist. I winced, quickly pulling my hand back and shaking it from how much it stung.

"FUCK!"

There in the doorway was Mrs. Tallarico, my sixty eight year old neighbor from down the street. She had recently been divorced from her husband who had moved out of the area to live with his current girlfriend, a twenty eight year old sugar baby who fancied herself a model that did porn on the side. Thankfully, the judge presiding over the case granted her the house and a sizable portion of their collective earnings. And with some advice, I helped her ensure her finances would be more than enough to be taken care of.

"I'm so sorry," she said, rushing to my side. As she stood near me, I noticed something. The scent of cinnamon and nutmeg, and the rich aroma of cocoa. Was she baking something at home?

"I'm alright," I said, wriggling my fingers as the pins and needles worked its way through my bones. "Might be some bruising, but I'll be okay."

Mrs. Tallarico nodded her head as she looked me over.

"Good, good. Don't want a fine young man like you getting too messed up, do we?"

I chuckled at her strange choice of words.

"No need to worry," I said, looking her in the eyes. Wait. Her eyes. I thought they were brown. We're they always blue? Strange. I guess I might have been wrong. My mind has been all sorts of places the past few days, misremembering some stuff and the like. I guess she's been taking better care of herself, too. She's looking livelier, more energetic. Hell, at the right angle, she even looks younger, too. Weird.

"Well," she began, looking around the house. "I wanted to stop by and thank you for coming over to fix my car on Monday."

"On Monday?", I asked, getting a quick nod from her.

"I talked with your mom on Sunday, and she said you'd be more than delighted to take of that and my yard. Though I gotta say, picking up a whole engine block by yourself? You sure know how to show off for an old biddy like me, Desmond! Nothing like a show of strength, young man!"

"Y-yeah," I muttered, not really knowing what to say.

"And the yard work you did for Miranda, plus fixing Cecily's windows after those kids broke it last week AND chopping down that dead tree on Liz's property? You really helped everyone out, Desmond. And all by your lonesome, too!"

I went quiet as she said all this. Somehow, I had done what normally would've been four full days of work in ten hours without me even knowing about it tied my gut into knots. I did all that? By myself?

"Guess all I needed was about nine hours, I guess!"

Mrs. Tallarico gave me an odd look.

"Nine hours?", she asked me.

"Well, I started super early in the morning, right?"

She slowly shook her head.

"You started at 11 AM, remember? Right after you and your mom got back from somewhere?"

I wanted to scream. FIVE HOURS?! FOUR FULL DAYS OF PHYSICAL LABOR IN FIVE HOURS?! That was the reason I was so laid up? One full day would leave someone in discomfort. But all of that in five hours? There's no fucking way! I had to know what happened, but I couldn't do it with company. I had to play it off, not look panicked. Be cool, Desmond. Be cool.

"Of course," I said, forcing myself to smile. "Rough morning, still haven't got my coffee! Anyway, thank you for coming over! It was my pleasure to take care of things for everyone!"

We each said our goodbyes, and as soon as Mrs. Tallarico was out of the house, I immediately went to go find my phone to call my mom and ask her what the fuck was going on.

Sounder9- · « **Reply #21 on:** August 30, 2021, 05:08:25 am »

Another great update. I would say this one brings more questions than answers in a good way!

Artfuldodger · « **Reply #22 on:** August 31, 2021, 04:52:54 am »

I'm not sure if I'm enjoying this story or not. It's well written. But it's giving me anxiety that he's done nothing wrong, everything right and he's getting punished for it...

Sounder9- · « **Reply #23 on:** August 31, 2021, 05:24:37 am »