As the clock ticked down, the once ten-hour stretch dwindled to just three, and Aria felt the strain of her efforts manifest in her surroundings.
Items on her desk lay scattered across the floor, a few cherished figurines having fallen victim to her escalating frustration. She looked like a zombie, her complexion pale, her lips cracked, and her hair a wild tangle after she had yanked at it in anger.
The vibrant enthusiasm that had once fueled her was being replaced by an overwhelming sense of defeat
Finally, her worst fears were confirmed. A notification popped up, taunting her with the stark message that she had failed to kill the Blood Empress.
The villainess was shown on screen, a sinister grin plastered across her face as she toyed with Aria's character, laughter echoing in the virtual realm like a chilling melody. Aria rubbed her eyes, exhaustion creeping into her bones as she stood up from her chair, the weight of defeat heavy on her shoulders.
"I can't... I can't do it," she whispered, the words escaping her like a sigh
The chat exploded in a frenzy of activity, some users revelling in her misfortune, laughing emojis flying past the screen in a mocking display. Yet, amid the laughter, there were those who offered sympathy, their supportive words a lifeline in the sea of chaos. "Don't give up, Storm!" one commenter urged, while others echoed sentiments of encouragement.
In a moment of impulsive defiance, Aria grabbed her bat from the wall, brandishing it like a warrior preparing for battle. The worried comments flooded the screen, mingling with the amused reactions of those who found joy in her misery. She was fuming as she walked out leaving the live stream running.
Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing like a war drum in her ears. Her vision narrowed, a crimson haze clouding her sight as she stormed into the garage, bat clenched tightly in her trembling hands. The cold metal of the bat felt like an extension of her fury, a conduit for the storm raging within her.
With a primal scream, she swung the bat at the punching bag, the impact reverberating through her arms and shoulders. Each strike was a release, a desperate attempt to expel the anger that consumed her.
Her muscles tensed and strained, veins bulging against her skin as she poured every ounce of her strength into the relentless assault. Sweat dripped down her forehead, mingling with the tears she refused to acknowledge.
Her breaths came in ragged gasps, each one a struggle against the suffocating rage. Her mind was a chaotic whirlwind, thoughts fragmented and incoherent. She could barely register the pain in her hands, the sting of blisters forming from the repeated blows. All she knew was the need to keep hitting, to keep fighting against the invisible enemy that tormented her.
Finally, exhaustion began to creep in, her movements growing sluggish. She dropped to the floor, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her outburst. Hugging her knees to her chest, she rocked back and forth, trying to steady her breathing. The garage was silent now, save for the sound of her laboured breaths and the distant hum of the deep freezer.
After a few moments, she forced herself to stand, her legs unsteady beneath her. She made her way to the bathroom, her steps slow and deliberate. Opening the small cabinet, she reached for her medicine, her hands still shaking uncontrollably. A few of the small white pills slipped from her grasp, clattering onto the sink. She cursed under her breath, quickly gathering them up before taking one and carefully putting the others away.
As the medication began to take effect, she felt a semblance of calm return, the storm within her gradually subsiding. She leaned against the sink, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were red-rimmed and weary, but there was a flicker of determination in their depths.
She finally returned to the room, an unsettling smile plastered across her face, and the energy shifted palpably in the air. The atmosphere crackled with an electric tension as the chat exploded into a flurry of activity, messages racing past the screen in a dizzying blur.
Stargazers322: Storm, it's okay to quit; we will send you gifts to raise the money.
DogwhispererXO: You are fucked. Lmao.
MadyHatter: She looks so terrifying, she might murder someone tonight.
Flawless1062: I think we need a wellness check.
Aria rubbed her eyes vigorously, feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her like a heavy cloak. She took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of her energy drink mixed with the faint aroma of the leftover pizza from her last snack.
The glow of the screen illuminated her face, casting shadows that danced across her features as she opened the game once more, but she didn't utter a word. The silence stretched on, thick and uneasy, and her fans began to worry as they watched her expression shift from determination to something more vulnerable.
As the countdown timer ticked away, the hours dissolved into mere minutes, and the tension in the chat escalated. She had already faced the final boss six times, each attempt ending in a brutal defeat that gnawed at her resolve. The clock struck ten minutes left, and the screen flashed ominously as she met yet another setback.
Leaning back in her chair, she felt the weight of defeat settle over her like a heavy fog, her earlier bravado dissipating into the ether.
With a rhythmic tapping echoing in the quiet room, she drummed her fingers against the table, each tap like the ticking of a time bomb that was moments away from exploding.
The chat erupted into a frenzy of messages, some comforting her, reminding her that even WingGod didn't seem to be winning either, but their words barely registered in her mind.
Finally, breaking the silence, Aria blurted out, "You know what? I want to know who the hell created that crazy bitch! I need to have a fucking word with them... I won't do anything, I just want to talk to them... that's all." But it seemed no one in the chat believed it will be a civil conversation.
She opened her search engine, the screen illuminating her face in a cold, blue glow. "Who the fuck created an OP villain like her?" she continued, her voice rising with indignation. "She doesn't deserve to be this powerful! The bitch is incredibly fast, and her damage output is so freaking high that one shot can take all your health! Like, what the fuck? Let's not even talk about her HP! Who the hell made this bitch powerful?"
As she scrolled through the search results, her frustration mounted. She couldn't find the culprit, the mastermind responsible for creating this demon child of a character who had turned her gaming experience into a relentless nightmare.
The cacophony of the chat continued in the background, a mix of laughter and sympathy, but all she could focus on was the overwhelming sense of betrayal she felt toward the game developer.
With a grunt of annoyance, she settled for typing out a damning review for the game, her fingers flying over the keyboard with a fervour that mirrored her anger.
"This game is horse shit! I demand to know who thought it was a good idea to create such a broken character! It's not fair, and I am sick of getting steamrolled."
The chat continued to buzz around her, but Aria was lost in her own world, fueled by a mixture of rage and determination. If this was the last thing she did before the countdown timer hit zero, she would ensure that the world knew just how infuriating this final boss truly was.
Her fingers flew furiously over the keyboard. Her eyes blazed with the fire of a thousand suns as she typed out her scathing review of the game. The Blood Empress, had truly pushed her to the brink of madness with her god-defying powers.
"To the asshole who created the demon spawn a.k.a the Blood, Empress," she began, her words dripping with sarcasm.
"Congratulations on creating the most overpowered, infuriatingly unbalanced final boss in the history of gaming. That cunt, with her absurdly high HP and damage, is a testament to your complete disregard for fair play and player sanity."
Aria's fingers paused for a moment as she considered her next words. A wicked grin spread across her face as she continued.
"To whoever decided to bestow The Blood Empress with such ridiculous powers, may you step on legos every single time you get out of bed? May your bathroom trips be forever cursed with the tiniest, most useless pieces of toilet paper. And may your WiFi be eternally slow, buffering at the most crucial moments.... Oh, and may your ass hole itch for all eternity that no doctor in the universe can cure it."
She leaned back in her chair, satisfied with her work. The review was a perfect blend of anger and humour, capturing her frustration while also giving her followers a good laugh. She hit the "post" button with a flourish, imagining the developer' reactions as they read her scathing critique.