(by DRM) Chapter 1: I'm too worthless to return to playing such a harmful role again

CONTENT WARNING FOR GORE

Bro, I've heard worse gore than that 💀
Still, a good story

yeah this is just hte bening

All I get is Slay the Princess vibes and I love it

stp sounds cool but i dont have steam

There's gonna be a console port at some point, but stp is really good

huh

Huh

Rent was hard to come by. As someone with no resumè nor readily available birth certificate, 401's job options were... limited. Even trying to get a house was difficult. Thankfully, her shady landlord didn't care who she was, as long as they received pay. No one wanted to live in the shabby house, so any customer was a gift. Although the place was practically falling apart, it was better than nothing. And 401 had survived in the wilderness for years upon years upon years upon... well, you get the point.
She had to resort to theft along with her minimum-wage job at Grizzco Industries. She wasn't proud, but, being a murderer, it was the least of her offenses.
Since she used all the little bit of money she earned to pay rent, she had to find food somehow. That somehow was the nearest forest.
Which is why 401 currently found herself stalking a big squirrel.
'What the f**k am I doing?' she thought to herself.
The squirrel hesitated. Now was her chance.
She pounced on it, digging her claws in. The squirrel shrieked as blood poured out, struggling against the weight that was pinning it down.

In a few seconds, it was dead. 401 dug her teeth in and ate. She ate like a wild animal, tearing the squirrel apart with her teeth. The squirrel was soon devoured entirely, the only trace of it being its blood still on the grass.
Her stomach was content. If only her mind were too. She hated hunting, but having to use all the little money she had for rent, it was her only option for food. Well, there was another, but... no. It's best not to, lest it worsens her mental state. 401 walked to the nearby creek and rinsed off the already-dried blood. Once she was satisfied, she returned to her "home". If home is where the heart is, this certainly wasn't hers.
She lay down on a stiff piece of wood, ready to go to sleep.
...If her mind let her.
"This is your fault. You're the reason you're in this f**king mess."
Guilt and regret wracked her mind for an hour until her body was too tired to continue.
Unfortunately, her dream wasn't much better, either. The same old nightmare she'd had for the past week.
As always, the dream started in an empty room. The light above her head was barely holding out, flickering in between the small amount of illumination it offered. Below the exposed lightbulb, there was a chair. And hanging from the ceiling, a noose swaying back and forth, beckoning her to use it.
The dream only ended after hours of dreadful silence. 401 refused to use the noose and was therefore subjected to waiting in silence in the empty room for god knows how long.
She hated being awake, she hated being asleep. This cycle continues, never-ending, never faltering. She longed for salvation from it all. Perhaps the nightmare was her mind telling her the only answer she knew, but yet she still never tried it.
Why? Is it the small hope for another option? Or is it fear?

Edgyhead: you're living in THIS dump?
You could've just told me, I can hook you up with a luxury room and more food than you can eat!

... Why are you salivating as you look at me?

yo wha

wowie zowie

yowzers

You're honestly one of the best storytellers on here.

be so frr