All of her holes get used, and she must always be ready for him. His VR headset is on while he fucks her. It always is. The voluptuous, perfect women created from 3D modeling software that he penetrates in his virtual landscape make her look like an accidental genetic defect.

A smile had not graced the mother’s lips since the child was born nine months ago.

The chasm of despair had festered into every crevice of her life. It was made incarnate each conscious moment, taking shape through the interaction of the physical and emotional, becoming something much greater, a force that extended beyond the tangible outlines of the shapes that comprised their mode of reality.

I almost had my parents return Ninja Gaiden 2 for the Xbox 360 when I was 13. I was going to tell them to say that the game was defective and didn’t work. In reality, my incessant rage quitting had rendered me insecure about my gaming ability, and I’d placed quite a lot of stock in that ability during my teenage years. Surely it had to be that the game was defective and not my inability to navigate around something difficult. My usual supply of copium dioxide seemed to be dwindling.

It’s been two years since I played Signalis. It’s difficult for me to fathom that amount of time, because the past few years of my life have simultaneously flown by and have felt like an eternity.