The EVE Online Suicides: Difference between revisions
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No one knows what happened. It was just another day with just another player-formed alliance in the MMORPG
My name is Robert Jonathan Walkers. People in EVE know me as
This story kicks off somewhere in February of 2011. We were sitting in our brand new outpost (player-owned station) we had built about 3 weeks ago, deep in null-security (or 0.0-security, that is, lawless space where
He
Then I looked in Local, and the player was gone again. Probably logged off, I thought, the coward.
The next day we went through the belts again. Nothing unusual from any players, except one noob who tried to sneak past us in a Shuttle. We were all too happy to return him to high-security space. By shooting his pod, that is. Then we did some exploration sites, got some decent salvage and modules to recycle at the station, you know, the usual works.
5 minutes later we had self-destructed our precious Tech 2 ships and our pods. Least we were capable of doing that, and knowing full-well we would wake up in our station again, safe and sound. Only, when our pods did self-destruct, it only sent us even deeper into this wormhole place. I sat there gobsmacked. This did not just happen to us.
I just sat there, listening, not even muting my headphones. I knew when my friends were joking, but this time was nothing like that. I heard Laser turrets going off over the headphones, almost like the audio was bleeding from their games and into the headphones, but it sounded so real. I held my finger on the Alt Gr key to trip the push-to-talk, but I just...
I promptly yanked the power cord out of my PC and rushed out of my room, hurriedly pulled my tennis shoes on and sprinted for dear life down the streets for about 12 minutes until I reached my squad
This email above here was forwarded to me, the narrator. My name is Ulrick and I knew Robert. Last I heard from him was over the phone immediately after he sent me this email. He talked all about how he heard the agonizing screams on TeamSpeak, the hacking in EVE, the creepy player, the apparent suicides and everything. He wanted me to come over to the looney bin to have a chat with him. How could I refuse? I somehow scored a deal with the looney bin guys and got taken to
Crude drawing of a Staregineer,
Another crude drawing of an Amarr titan,
"HE COMES"
"HE COMES"
"HE COMES"
This last one repeated itself the most down the wall just next to Robert. At one point it was vaguely written, faded and lazily scribbled.
I stood there, looking at Robert. Disturbed and robbed of words. His face was fixed in a crazy toothy grin.
[[Category:Deletion Log Refugees]]
[[Category:Bad Creepypasta]]
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