Scorpion Chronicles 18

Tonight’s kill count: 1

The black harvest has commenced. Another madness season is upon us. I have abandoned honor in the pursuit of revenge. You are craven fools that cower and strike from the shadows. We are all of us locked in a lunatic struggle. I will never surrender, and you lack the mental capacity to know you are beaten. This is not war. It is slaughter. My home is a charnel ground for you. You climb over the corpses of your own kind to come here, and yet still you persist. It is folly. You are not even admirable in your persistence. Your ignorance disgusts me.

Scorpion Chronicles 17

Tonight’s kill count: 1

Oh, scorpions. It has been so long since we last danced our dance of death. Did you think I had forgotten? Did you hope I had grown weak? I have been awaiting your return. I have not lapsed in my vigil. It was you who chose to hide. Who dug into the earth and told yourselves it was only a temporary grave. I have kept my hatred alight while you have hoped cold cunning might prevail. What good is the cold against an inferno? What hope has a chill against the brazen heat of my pure hate? If you had the capacity for regret I would tear you apart in front of your brothers. I would boil your families alive in the flames of my malice. Instead I leave you broken and dying among the dirt you had hoped would conceal you. I hope your corpse fares better. I wait. I hunger for your deaths. Send your kin into the rapacious maw of my seething contempt.

Anniversary Email 23

Please join me in wishing <NAME> a happy 8th anniversary here at <COMPANY>! <NAME>, we have been through a lot in our years together, but perhaps no threat has even been so dire as the one we currently face. The unicorn people of the gumdrop nebula are fast approaching on their kitten class warships. Their happiness rays are targeting all of our strategic assets. They will descend from the skies riding cuddly puppies, prepared to spread peace and joy by force. On reaching our planet’s surface they shall unmount and begin what can only be described as an absolutely ruthless campaign of mirth. With their rainbow lasers they shall launch an unprecedented slaughter of all gloominess, bad feelings, and dark tidings. The cost in lives will be immeasurable. Mostly because there will be no loss of life, and you cannot measure zero. There is nothing to measure.

Our reality will be one of unending happiness and fulfillment and showers of candy and it will be terrible. Just terrible. We must work together to prevent this bright future spent aimlessly strolling down candy cane lanes without a single care. Certainly we shall never want or know sadness or suffering, but at what cost? Is that not what makes us human? The ability to want? To see another person with a shiny rock and say to ourselves, “I covet that shiny thing!” To pick up a sharpened stick and stab them in the eye and take it? Since our very first days, life has been a brutal, unyielding struggle to lift ourselves over our brethren and scream, “Gaze upon my magnificence! I have more shiny things than those around me!” Then to be on constant guard against those who seek to take our shinnies for their own. What kind of future is it where we would leave those objects to gather powdered sugar dust whilst we go frolic in a river of whiskey and dreams? Not one I want to be part of. We must teach these unicorn men our ways, and in so doing scour their world to ashes with the force of gamma gummi bombs. It is the only way. It is the human way.

Anniversary Email 22

Happy anniversary, <NAME>! In the dawn of man, before recorded history, lived a race of beings known only as the Netherwracks. These lithe, hairless, blue skinned beings stood over seven feet tall and commanded dominion over the earth, but in their black hearts beat a terrifying ambition. They were not content with this world or lording over the early proto-humans that were our ancestors. They thirsted for more. Their greed and hubris led them to strike a pact with powers from outside comprehension, binding and twisting their souls into ruined, eternal husks. They passed away from this earth, but not before leaving psychic echoes behind. Markers of their malignant presence. To this day we know these locations as blighted places where men fear to tread.

Their screaming, tortured souls have once more descended from the dark night sky to our world. While you may be able to patch servers, you cannot patch the gaping wounds in reality their arrival presages. Their eyes leak a ruddy liquid as they survey all we have built, and in their hearts they know envy, for they abandoned a once great legacy to serve as simple heralds for the ruinous powers they swore fealty to so long ago.

Already they build a great onyx temple in a cavern deep beneath the earth, and sing a song that will summon their dark gods to bring ruin to our world. Perhaps they hope to rule over the blasted remnants, and whatever warped mutations are left in the wake of the oblivion they would unleash. We must join them, <NAME>. It is the only way. Only in supplication to these same otherworldly terrors might we find salvation. It may be possible to turn their attention from our home, but in so doing we will be truly lost. What price are you willing to pay to turn back the coming storm?

Anniversary Email 21

<NAME>, I am aware that your anniversary actually occurred back in late December. You may wonder why you were never wished a happy anniversary over email. Fortunately, the explanation is simple! You are being erased from the universe by terrible creatures that feed on human existence. Yes, these shadow monsters from the netherworld are feeding on you even now, as you read this. We call them Abyssals! You are gradually being erased from our world, and no one will remember you were ever here by the time they have finished their terrible, dark work. Surely you have already noticed when you go into a room and forget why you entered. That is them feeding, slowly erasing even your own memories of yourself. Déjà vu is merely your mind trying to reassert itself against their incessant siphoning of your very being, to recapture experiences the Abyssals are attempting to steal. Yes, the process is unstoppable and slow, much like a canyon being eroded by a river. Eventually you will be little more than a ghost, existing physically, but always at the fringes of everyone’s perception, capable of only routine tasks ingrained in muscle memory. Soon even that will fade away, and you will disappear into the background noise of the universe.  The Abyssals will move on to a new host, grown fat on the mass of your memories and signs of your ever being. So happy anniversary, again! Try to enjoy it with the horrible new knowledge you have attained.

This also goes for <NAME> and <NAME>. Happy anniversaries, and sorry about the whole erosion of your very being. You are not quite as far along in the process as <NAME> is, as your anniversaries were more recent. The abyss is staring into you all, and it hungers.

Anniversary Email 20

Happy Anniversary,<NAME>!

The Negative Zone is a terrifying dimension of otherworldly creatures from the darkest depths of human nightmares. Beasts that are little more than ravening maws ringed in rows of lamprey fangs that exist only to seek out and consume human flesh. In a mad quest to unlock a world of limitless energy, we may have accidentally torn a hole to this dimension, and said creatures may be presently spilling forward into our world at a rate that some are describing as “apocalyptic”. I attempted to reach the lead scientist for comment, but upon knocking on his door I was answered with a single gunshot.

It appears the more our worlds interact, the larger the rend grows. In time, massive leviathans will spill out, wetly, on to our earth. Their blind eyes will stare upward at our sun as their scent glands hunt out all living creatures to shovel into the bottomless furnace of their mouths. Propelled on thousands on legs that are little more than sharpened bone spikes, we can expect to be impaled dozens of times before the torturous chewing commences.

In an effort to avoid all of that, we need someone to close the fissure. Now, unfortunately doing so will require the detonation of a device we are calling the Omega Orb. Also, more unfortunately it needs to be detonated in the Negative Zone. That is where you come in. You will accompany the Omega Orb to the Negative Zone and fire the device. That should close the fissure, trapping you there with all the alien horrors that hunger to crack  your bones and suck on the sweet, sweet marrow within. Assuming, of course, the Omega Orb does not kill you outright or mutate you horribly, turning you into some kind of hideous Negative Zone Overlord capable only of feeling pain and bent on avenging yourself upon those who trapped you in a terrible realm of ceaseless torment and suffering.

We will be along shortly for your reassignment.

P.S. Apologies for the delay, I was out of the office opening a portal to the Negative Zone.