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Today I heard whispers in the halls of school. Somehow all the qualified persons of Tumblr (the gays, hipsters, koreaboos, closeted furries, etc.) has been informed of this "Continued ARG" at the same time as me. Apparently, 4:00 am was SJW happy hour. Whoever thought it was good for that dead kid's ego to post his news all over the place must have predicted the outcome horribly wrong; only one solid, loyal fangirl said anything remotely nice about Jadusable. All the rest I heard was people being...tired.

"Ugh. It's been going on for 7 years, when will people learn to take a break?"

"Okay, yeah, he's hot, but it's the annoying kind of hot. You know, like when your boyfriend steals your bra and ends up never giving it back and it turns from sexy to obnoxious."

"I'd tell him to kill himself, but...yeah. You already know."

Jesus. I'm not even that vicious.

It felt like the mystery that surrounded a dead 12-year-old cultist was just gone. That, or it had evaporated into some kind of laziness. Part of me would have believed that Ben himself had written that article if it wasn't for the fact that I was 16-going-on-17 and not into that bullshit anymore.

I got home and tried forcing myself to read it. The whole thing. Thoroughly. Just once. But something in me just really, really didn't want to do it. I couldn't exactly pinpoint why. For me, everything needed to have a reason. If not, it goes down the drain. That day I felt the need to make an exception.

But the next day, I succumbed.

Rumors of a revived copy of the haunted Majora's Mask floating about the web have surfaced after years of the Jadusable hype being thought dead. While the creator of the original story has yet to confirm anything about this, fans and critics alike are starting to pour into sites like Amazon and Ebay in hopes of finding this haunted copy.

That being set aside, it was physically confirmed that "Alex" burned the original copy, surprisingly keeping to his word in the infamous Reddit thread and "truth.txt."

As all that is happening, articles are also popping up more and more about a series of deaths, trauma, and suicide all connected to wires and electrocution. While nothing in the original story overtly states that BEN possesses the ability to physically harm others, the electronic and psychological manipulation tied to all this raises some alarms for fans of the story.

"Who wrote this article and where can I find their home to shoot them."

My first thoughts after reading this were more of a string of curses rather than comprehensible sentences. After my head cleared, I took a deep breath and glared at the screen.

"I smell bullshit, jeffthekiller093."

As I scroll further down my saved posts, I came across the little thriller story again. From a light skim, it seemed decently well written. I caught snippets of sentences about ghosts, doors opening on their own, "it was just the wind," all the little cliche stuff. I went back to the beginning, looking to actually read it this time. Maybe it was worth 5 minutes or my life.

...and it would seem fake just listening to it, but god damn it, it felt so real. I felt the hair on my neck rise every time a floorboard in that house creaked, every time I heard that irritating buzzing and static that he caused. It sounded like he was rubbing sandpaper together right next to my ears when he passed me by. And I know a ghost should be gotten rid of because it's dangerous, and creepy, but in all honesty I just want a normal life back. He makes me wish I was dead, not because he scares me, though that's a part of it. He is one of the most annoying things I have ever looked at with my own two eyes. And he wants my help.

Help me, he says, giving me those infamous puppy eyes that have never worked on me. He sounds innocent, but if you were here you would soon wish ghosts could die a second time as well.

He used to whisper in my ear at night and tell me all the things I was afraid of. How the hell did he know anything about me?

And then he stopped, because one night I'd had enough and yelled at him to fuck off, Lawman. Go toy with someone else.

For some reason, he listened to me. And now all I can hear throughout the day is that goddamn static, and the sound of blood dripping throughout my apartment. Well, at least I think it's blood. Whatever spilled on the carpet certainly looks like it.

If he really thinks I can help him, he must be as stupid as he looks.

He's probably watching me right now, waiting for me to throw something else at him. The lamp's broken, so I can't use that again.

Get out of my computer. Get out of my life. Get out of my head. Get out of my ROOM, Lawman. Stop playing your games with me. I'm not exactly in the mood, if you couldn't tell.

I blinked once, at a loss for words. Really? That was the end?

"...satirical. I like it," I forced myself to admit. So, I guess the message is that it's not always the monster, who's actually the monster.

I ran a hand through my hair and sighed, about to close the laptop when a tiny but conspicuous ad caught my eye. It was a little concerning, to say the least. Plastered in the small space it had was layers of distorted text, repeating,

"Please help me."

"Please help me."

"Please help me."

"Please help me."

After about 20 seconds of it, the box went white. I swear, my entire screen got just a tiny bit lighter from it. Then, in big, bold letters,

"BUY TODAY"

Featuring a small Nintendo 64 cartridge underneath.

"...oh, fuck no."

My entire body became paralyzed as I realized what that could mean. The ad froze, then seemed to split in half, creating a mild glitch in the entire screen. A small sentence popped up in the corner, so small I almost wasn't able to read it.

"Please understand."

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