Blood Whistle: Difference between revisions

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<h2>Foreword</h2>

This is the recorded blog of a college student who was playing a modified version of Super Mario Brothers 3 on his computer. Shortly after submitting the last entry, he committed suicide in his dorm room.

 

<h2>June 7th, 2012</h2>

I wish I hadn’t unlocked that secret. This game will be the bane of my existence. I’ll try as best as I can to explain what happened and what will certainly entail. I don’t know if any of you will believe me, but this sick mockery of one of my childhood favorites must be exploited and never be seen by the eyes of any other breathing man on god’s green earth. And Todd (what I’ll call my friend for the sake of privacy and possibly security), DO NOT send that link to anyone else. You’ll see why below.

 

I entered the castle stage. Knowing its only secret was the warp whistle, I disposed of a dry bones before donning a raccoon tail. With a running start I was flying above the stage until I hit the secret area. My whole life before I hit up on my arrow keypad was completely different. I was happy. I was normal. I could wake up in the morning recognizing my own reflection, being absolute about my safety. Now it’s lies. All lies. I know that as of what happened today, my life will become an infernal hell in which every day will be a futile struggle to retain my own sanity. After finishing this wretched collage of electronic dejection, I will embrace death like a long lost lover with open arms. Now to get on with what had come to pass.

 

I then ran towards the chest to see its contents. The chest was drenched in reflective, realistic blood of the same type emanated by the orifices and exposed cranium of the poor little mushroom-headed fellow. Pressing onward, I ran through it to discover its dark secret. Its twisted surprise. I wasn’t prepared for the following events.

 

A blood-soaked warp whistle ominously rose from what I now believe to be the deepest crevice of hell. It blipped twice as the normal whistle would. That, my fellow reader, was the only normality of what I have played today. It played a deep tune that I can’t get out of my head as I write this. The whistle descended, violently striking Mario in the chest. He unleashed a bloodcurdling scream as it went into his back and out of his chest. This cry wasn’t 8-bit at all. It wasn’t even cartoon-esque. It was the sound of unfiltered anguish, of utter agony. His expression reflected the same. To end my experience on this perverse version of something I once loved, Mario was transported to the warp zone of the Blood Whistle.