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AnthonyClassicDeathGripsFan (talk) 09:01, March 10, 2018 (UTC)


It was a cold morning. Convincing myself to get out of my comfy bed was particularly difficult today. My peepee had shrunken down to a pea overnight. My body felt different than usual. I knew for sure I wasn't drinking the night before, so how come? I decided to kick off the day with some light jazzercising.

I turned on my Chromebook to look at some porn, but I noticed SomeOrdinaryGamers had uploaded a video. Perfect, this will get me in the mood even quicker. I began to watch that shizzle and was enjoying every minute of it, though I couldn’t ignore the compression artifacts that popped up here and there in the video. I couldn’t explain why, but they seemed quite intentional. Suddenly, Mutahar turned his head to the camera and his beautiful dark brown pupils pierced right through me.

"You can't escape it in any way, shape or form my dude." It really felt like he was speaking directly to me. Caught off-guard, I nevertheless continued watching. It must've just been a joke, right? Mutahar is a funi boy after all. My eyes were getting heavier and heavier. Why was I getting so sleepy for no reason? I just woke up a few minutes ago.

Mutahar let out a mighty MutaHAR-HAR at something that happened in the video. I couldn't take it. I had to take off my headphones. I touched my ears and my hands were stained with blood, which was really strange, because I'm pretty sure the sound of his jolly laugh wasn't that loud. I turned my speakers on instead and put them on low. What a terrible idea that was. A wave of nausea washed over me. Vibrations rippled through my body. It felt like being stuck in some kind of force-field. I managed to push my computer chair away from the desk, nearly toppling over in the process.

Confused and feeling cranky as a Kong, I began rubbing my temples. A cold sweat made its way down my back. A realization. I couldn’t think clearly because I was under the effects of it, but now there was no doubt in my mind about what was happening here. I bolted it to the door and outside the house.

I jumped on my snow-ski and put in a 5-euro coin to make it start. It was a pretty uneventful ride like most of the time, although I could’ve sworn a saw a handsome man of Indian origin in the corner of my eye at one point. 10/10 would smash nice beard.

I arrived at my destination. The heavy steel door that stood before me simply read:

MUTAHAR PROTECTION CHAMBER

Level-5

Beware, you’re in for a scare


I creaked the door open with a bit of elbow grease and stepped in. The walls were decked with tinfoil and some Christmas decorations I forgot to take down. I turned on the main computer. MutaOS started up. I made sure I was still behind 7 proxies. Out of nowhere a window appeared. I jumped a little because I was already on edge. There was only white on the inside and a weird icon I didn't recognize. I took a deep breath and moved my mouse over to it. It was my Tamagotchi emulator. My pets were dead. K, whatevs closed it.

Muta0s

Moi on my shitty computer

After briefly thinking about getting a new computer I started up my VM to take a look at what I was here for. Muta's virtual consciousness. I started building it a few years ago. The core of my diabolical creation consisted of .exe files from a Spanish deep-fake forum, a 3D model of Mutahar made by Isis and some .dlls from the Apple Cloud source code. All downloaded through Tor, of course.

As I was typing on my mechanical keyboard, my speakers came to life:

"This shit is ridiculous man, like why would anyone spend so much time on something like this. Seriously, dude." Muta's words hurt my achy-breaky heart. He was addressing me directly, no doubt about it. Although, it might not have been the real Mutahar, but whatever Muta-ted entity was out there roaming the lands and affecting my psyche. With this terrifying thought I looked at the state of the VM itself and confirmed my suspicions. My Mutahar folder was much bigger in size than last time and the consciousness within connected to the Internet, even going as far as to upload on the SomeOrdinaryGamers channel pretending to be the real Muta (please stand up).

It wasn’t clear to me how it was able to manifest a physical being with my internet speed here in Alaska, but then again I didn’t check in on it for several months. I knew I should have modified those .dlls in Visual Basic a bit more to prevent this. Damn you, Apple.

As if on command, my not-at-all creepy bunker received a visitor. The Muta-clone managed to find me and was standing in the entrance. I didn’t hear him coming at all.

“At least close the door man.”

“Oh shit, I’m sorry.”

That’s unexpected compliance right there. Now, I was able to take a better look. He looked like a bad CGI model from an early 2000’s movie. Shit, was my work really that sloppy or is Verizon to blame here? I know my priority in that moment should have been to protect the world from a potentially hostile AI which could wreak havoc upon the world and yada yada, but honestly, I just didn’t want anyone to see this stupid thing.

After both of us stood there motionless for what felt like an eternity, I mustardedd up the courage to say something edgy. “I’m gonna take you back to hell” I pierced him the fuck down with my intense Kubrick stare, but he wasn’t having any of it.

“YOU’RE GONNA DIE FUCKER” The Muta-thing lunged at me and I evaded with a graceful roll to the side.

“Hard to impress, huh?” I grabbed a smoke grenade conveniently placed on the shelf right next to me.

”Catch this!”

“Shit,” he flinched. His weakened state allowed for my next move. I drew a pentagram in the middle of the room and retrieved my taser. Luckily he stumbled right onto my slightly uneven 666 star when dealing with the smoke. Fuck, I hope this will work. Not taking any chances, I tased that sorry-looking mofo right in the nipples. That only seemed to anger him, though. Wonder why.

However, he was now left to my whims, since the pentagram totally worked, yo. While he was struggling, I grabbed a Fanta© from the fridge and caught my breath. Drink in hand, I began searching the storage for something which would get rid of him. No dice. I overheard something about just wanting to play spooky games coming from the other room, but ignored it.

And then I noticed my old microwave sitting in the corner. That could work, I guess? I placed it next to Muta and plugged it in. He began to melt and evaporate almost immediately and I was blinded by a strong glow. The process was surprisingly quick and all that was left was a mirror image of the pentagram burned into the ceiling. I decided to go back to YouTube, but some strange fuckery was going on yet again. There were multiple SOG channels in my subscription list. Although very similar to each other, the differences made them hard to dismiss as some ordinary glitch. One of them had video titles only in all-caps, another one had weird thumbnails, some channels had less or more videos in total.

Did I make this happen by erasing Mewta-Two? Could I even find the original channel? I went through my history and found the video I was watching before. Surely enough, I was now able to watch it without getting sick. It was a deep web browsing video and further into the episode Muta found a site about making a virtual consciousness. He seemed interested at first, then just turned to the camera and said: “Wack.” I wanted to laugh, but just continued staring blankly instead.

I noticed a new video was uploaded on the channel and hesitantly clicked on it. It was a troll pasta reading, except … all the other guests were Mutahar as well. Wack. Then out of nowhere I get the sudden urge to look into a mirror.

>MFW I was a Mutahar clone this whole time building a shittier version of myself
>MFW I have no face

In the distance a cacophony of footsteps gradually grew louder and louder. A tear rolled down my cheek. On this blessed day we shall all become Mutahar.

C̷̸̮̦̙̯͘͢Ǫ̶̼̙͙̻̖͓̝̫̤̝̺͔͚̰̳̦͍̀́͝ͅM̘̘͍͇̗̖͠ͅE͏̧̘͓̪̰̭̙̝ ̛҉͉̺̙͎̯̭̭̩͖̫͈̥̞̲̗̫̙̞͕Ṱ̵̦̝̠͉͉̠͟͠O̧̖̦̰̰͕̦̝͍̦̻͎͍̼ ̷̢̜̟͚̰͙̘̖̹̹̰̹͍͎̳̪̞̹M̢͞҉͓̖̳̺̗̭̥̠Ȩ͎͉̰͉̭͉͢ ̡̙̝̫̜̣̦̝̱͕̰̖̜͙̰̲͡͞͞ͅͅḾ͚̹̱͖̟̫͉͉̪̗̱͍̱͙͘̕͟Y̕͏̷͕̰͉̣ ̢̫̭͔̹̳͎̰͎͇͜͜ͅB̴͎̣̠̳̪̼͔͙̭͇͙̥͚̰͘̕͞ͅR̛͚͍͖̭̟̰̰̦͚̗̜̮͖̰͔̺͟O̧̝̪̗͓̰̫̫̜̞̜̩͖Ţ̥̦̹̩̥͝͡͝H̸̙͕͉͎̰̻̻̼͎͓̭͟͝ͅͅE̶̷̡͓͇̤̭͚̝͈̮̺̳̳͕̗͈̺͢Ŗ̢͇̤͍͈̝͎̼́͞S̶̨̛̞͔͓̥͙̫̤͔̱̞̱̦̕͠

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