Felix #4
My focus shifted at the sound of my teammate’s voice as I took out a sniper from atop a nearby building.
Despite the good shot, their health fell and they requested healing.
I knew I could easily take them out, and without a second thought, I ran across the map.
“Cover me!” I shouted as my character climbed the pile of debris, using it like a ladder until I was sprinting along the same rooftop.
The sounds of gunfire filled my ears and my eyes locked onto my target, the fallen player sitting helplessly.
I raised my weapon, aiming the shotgun with a giant grin as I readied to take the kill.
“Game over, fucker.” A loud shot pierced the headphones and my screen turned red.
“Wha—what the fuck?!” I stared at my monitor, unable to blink and holding my breath as I processed what just happened.
“How—how the fuck—” The screen shifted to spectator mode, which only happened when your character died in-game.
I watched as a third player stepped into view and stood next to my body.
The voices of my own team filled my headphones, pissed and shouting at how we could’ve lost the match.
And all the while, I just sat there, baffled and staring at the screen, watching the player who killed me emote and dance over my dead body.
How the fuck did they kill me?
The round ended, leaving my team in utter defeat.
Our screens returned to the game lobby, our ranks on full display, showing who killed who in the game, and how many points we gained from the round.
I scanned the tags, searching for who had killed me.
“Where are you,” I hissed quietly, looking for it.
The voices of my fellow team members continued to boo and curse through their microphones, adding to my anger.
There’s no fucking way they could’ve gotten such an easy kill on me! And with one shot? No. Hell no! Who the fuck even was that?
I stared at the leaderboard, scrolling until I finally found the one I was searching for: C0tt0nt@!
l. I looked at the symbols and sounded the name out aloud to myself.
“Cotton…tail? Like the rabbit?” I scoffed at the ridiculous name.
“Fucker’s probably some preteen nerd who spends his weekends camping on other players.
They probably used their teammate as bait.
” I noticed the little crown emoji above their name, telling me the player was the opposing team’s captain.
“Cheating little fucker,” I grumbled to myself.
Just then, a notification popped up on my screen.
It was a private message from the same damn player.
“Now what?” I clicked the notification and opened the message, reading it aloud.
“Don’t cry, big boy. We can’t all be winners.
” I blinked at the cocky little message.
“Oh, hell no.” I gripped my microphone. “Fuck that team! I’m calling a rematch.
Everyone, ready up!” They cheered and readied for a second round, determined to set things right.
The opposing players seemed up for another round as they did the same.
“Game on, fuckers.” We loaded back into the lobby, the numbers on the countdown timer clicking away until the final beep. And with it, the next match began.
The second round went by quicker than expected, the opposing team once again taking us out and claiming another victory.
I refused to lose again and challenged them to yet another rematch, knowing there was no way in hell we’d lose a third time in a row.
But just like before, they were victorious…
again, and again. And again. I was furious, trying everything I could to secure just one fucking win, personally hunting the other captain down each round, and yet we just kept fucking losing.
“What the fuck?!” I stared at the lobby screen, completely pissed.
“There’s no way they’re not cheating!” And just like before, a second notification appeared as I received another private message.
“Now what,” I grumbled, clicking it open and reading the message aloud to myself.
“Sucks to suck…Oh, fuck this guy!” I opened a new tab on another monitor, annoyed and fuming from the cocky little prick.
All sense of sanity left my body and I did what I do best: hacking the video game to find the player’s information.
Within seconds, I had his gamertag, IP address, and all the personal information he used when creating his profile.
And with it, I had more than enough to find him in real life.
I tapped away at my keyboard, driven by my burnt ego.
Let’s see just how cocky you are when I find your little bitch ass. God damn cheating punk!
My eyes scanned the monitor before me, reading the player’s information as I pinpointed where they were playing from.
Not only was he local, but the little cocksucker was live-streaming their gameplay from another platform under the same tag, making this all too easy.
“Ha!” I scoffed. “Got you, cottontail. Now, let’s see the little geek behind the screen.
” I clicked on the live stream, expecting to find some prepubescent nerd gaming from his parents’ basement, sitting in the dark as he scratched his balls, but what I saw instead left me utterly dumbfounded. “What the—-“
“Yes! Suck my dick, bitch! Woah!”
I blinked, speechless. Not because of who was behind the screen, but by the fact that she was probably the most attractive and striking woman I’d ever laid my eyes on.
“What do you think, chat? Should I snipe his dick off?” The attractive white-haired woman laughed, clicking her keyboard as she smiled, staring straight into her monitor, her pale face filled with such delight as she pulverized the opposing team.
She was drenched in a vibrant pink hue that came from the neon lights that surrounded her.
Her entire room was a mix of kawaii and e-girl aesthetics, framing her like a psychedelic work of art, her cat-eared headset flashing and bobbing while she effortlessly destroyed the other players, squealing as she led her team to yet another victory.
“Yes! Suck it!” The woman raised her arms, her large breasts distracting the hell out of me as they nearly popped out of the tiny little tube top she was wearing.
She flipped her long alabaster hair around, cheering and celebrating, dancing just like her character in the game.
Comments from her subscribers flooded the chat along her screen—hundreds, if not thousands of people celebrating her colorful victory.
An alarm suddenly went off from within her room and as her hazel eyes shot to her camera, I nearly lost my breath.
“Oh, shit!” She silenced it and turned back to the live stream, her gaze lifting as if it were locking onto the viewer’s.
“Sorry, boys, but I got to go! Got to work to make that money!” She stuck her tongue out then winked.
Work? Wait, no.
The woman leaned in closer toward the camera, her eyes twinkling in the neon light.
“Don’t be sad,” she cooed in a baby-like voice.
“Now, be a good boy, and don’t forget to like and subscribe!
” She blew a kiss to the camera and smiled in a way that made my cheeks burn.
“And don’t forget to catch my new show! Later, boys!
” And just like that, her live stream ended.
“Wait.” I tapped my keyboard, but the live stream was dead. “No. Wait.” I typed, searching her social media profiles linked, hyper-focused on finding her again.
I spent a few minutes deep-diving through her social media to find out that this mysterious, white-haired woman didn’t just game and live stream, but cammed on a few adult websites, and even produced her own music.
She was not only famous on the adult website, but had a large online following.
And from what I discovered, she was also an up-and-coming DJ.
“Impressive,” I whispered to myself, the monitor beeping as she posted.
My cursor moved over and clicked on the image to see it was a selfie of the woman wearing the same crop top, oversized sweatpants, and cat ear headphones from before.
She was standing in front of a large mirror in the same room and making a peace sign while looking into the camera with a grin.
I couldn't help but stare at the woman, noticing her height, the length of her hair, just studying every single little detail about her. “Now, where are you running off to, little cottontail?” I asked softly. I glanced at the caption of her post, reading the hashtags she used when I noticed she’d also tagged The Red Eye.
It was then I realized she was probably heading out to the club for a gig.
The urge to see her in person became an instant obsession as I searched and searched, peeling back her digital presence until I found exactly what I was looking for.
And what I found brought the biggest smile to my face.
“See you tonight.”
An odd, unfamiliar feeling swelled through my body and filled every inch of my existence as I shut my bike off and stepped through the parking lot of The Red Eye.
The bass from the club boomed loudly, carrying the rhythm all the way outside and into the night.
A bit of anxiousness nibbled at my nerves as I kept my helmet on and eyed the long line of people, impatiently waiting outside for a chance to get in.
Not only was The Red Eye a notorious club, but it just so happened to be one of the many businesses run under Charlotte’s Web underground network.
The same network me and my siblings were all a part of.
And by some chance of fate, it happened to also be where the white-haired woman was set to perform.
At least, that’s what the club’s social media post had said.
Deep breath. It’s just The Red Eye.