The door swung open, and KC staggered in, looking like he had just fought through an entire warzone. His clothes were slightly disheveled, his hair was a mess, and there was an exhaustion in his eyes that spoke of a struggle far greater than any mere battle. Yet, despite all of that, there was something triumphant in the way he stood, like a man who had climbed the tallest mountain, barely survived, and yet somehow still had the energy to gloat about it.
With a deep sigh, he ran a hand through his hair and then turned his head, breaking the fourth wall as he looked directly at the readers.
"Hey, everyone. It's been a while." He gave a tired but knowing smirk. "If you've been keeping up, you'll have noticed it's been a month since the last update on this story. Well, if you haven't read the messages since this isn't Wattpad, allow me to explain myself."
He groaned and flopped onto the nearest chair, rubbing his face before gesturing vaguely. "You see, I'm currently in college right now, and here in Florida, in order to graduate, we need to pass an exam called the FCLE, the Florida Civic Literacy Exam. It's a requirement to graduate here. And so, since my future kind of requires me to pass this test, you'll have to forgive me for deciding to take a break to focus on studying for it."
He sighed dramatically, resting his chin in his palm. "Now, as you've probably guessed, by the fact that I'm finally speaking up after a month of radio silence, I passed. Thank TOAA for that. But before I go on and explain the status of this story, please allow me to take a few moments of your time to rant about how much I hate this test."
KC sat up, cracking his knuckles like he was preparing for battle all over again. "Alright, let's get into it. See, my thought process was pretty simple: I have three classes this semester, all online, only on Tuesdays and Thursdays. So I thought, 'Okay, I already take all my classes from home, and I don't see the point in wasting gas driving to campus just to take a test. I'll just take it from home.'"
His eye twitched slightly. "Big mistake."
He held up a finger. "First, I had to pay $23 for a remote proctoring session. Annoying, but fine. I thought, 'Whatever, I'll take the test, pass it, and be done with it.'" He inhaled sharply. "But no."
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "So, I'm studying from Monday to Thursday, feeling good, and then I get an email from the remote proctoring program. They tell me I need to download a secure browser to take the test. Makes sense. I go to download it, but, surprise!, since I use a Chromebook, I need a specific version of the app. And when I try to download it? It tells me I can't because it's not a 'kiosk app.'"
KC clenched his fists and exhaled sharply. "So, I look it up, and guess what? I need a Google App Developer account just to download it. Fine. Whatever. I go make one... and it costs $5 to set up." He closed his eyes, visibly restraining himself. "So now I'm nearly $30 deep into this stupid test. But I finally get the developer account, go to download it, and then, another problem. Turns out, in order to actually open the file, I need to create an app first. Which meant I spent two hours trying to figure out how to make a useless app just so I could open a goddamn file."
He threw his hands up. "Until I finally said, 'Screw it,' and used my dad's old computer. I download the app, go to bed, wake up the next day, and—" he clapped his hands together, "—time for the test."
KC let out a bitter chuckle. "Now, here's the thing: they told me I'd get a Zoom call thirty minutes before my test for a room scan to ensure there was nothing helping me cheat. But I got nothing. Not a single message. So I'm sitting there, alone in my dining room, nervous as hell, thinking I forgot something or they forgot me. Finally, five minutes before my test, I get an email. I join the Zoom call, the proctor gives me my test code, I log in, and—"
He gritted his teeth. "Before I can even read the first question, the test kicks me out."
He deadpanned at the readers. "I tell the proctor, and she says maybe another app was open in the background. I check, nothing. So I try again, and it works... until question ten, when it kicks me out again. We go back and forth like this until we realize the problem, my dad has some antivirus software that automatically tries to open itself, which the secure browser detects as an unauthorized app, so it keeps booting me from the test."
KC inhaled deeply and exhaled through his nose. "This goes on for twenty minutes. The proctor finally tells me that if she has to enable my test again, she'll have to invalidate it. And I get it, she was just doing her job. But now I have to rush through the test before it gets invalidated. At this point, I think, 'Best case, I somehow pass and never have to do this again. Worst case, I fail and take it in person.'"
He closed his eyes and sighed. "So, I rush through the test, hoping and praying. I get to question seventy-eight out of eighty, and, bam!, kicked out again. Thankfully, the proctor saw I was almost done and let me back in."
He slumped back in his chair, rubbing his temples. "And, as expected, I failed."
KC held up a finger. "Now, let me be clear: you need a 60% to pass, 48 correct answers. And despite guessing through most of it, I got 45 right."
His face twitched. "Let that sink in. Let the sheer rage I felt in that moment settle into your bones."
He exhaled sharply. "Took it again the next week. Studied harder. Failed. Again. With 45 questions right."
His eye twitched violently. "I was something beyond furious."
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together. "So I went nuclear. Spent the entire month studying, reading, watching videos, doing everything I could. And today, after all that suffering..."
He smirked, finally looking relaxed. "I passed."
KC leaned back, closing his eyes for a moment. "So, with all that said..." He opened his eyes and gave the readers a small grin. "I'd like a few moments of silence. If that's okay."
He paused dramatically, as if waiting for the readers to process everything. Then, after a beat, he clapped his hands together.
"Alright, now that we've gotten that out of the way," he exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "If any of you were worried about the story, don't be. It's not dead, not in any way, shape, or form. I just need a bit of time to get my groove back, so I'm asking for patience. See, I kind of dropped everything to focus on that damn test, and now I need to cool off and relax a little. Also, I need to go through all my notes and get myself back in sync with where I left off." He pointed at the audience, narrowing his eyes. "So, be patient. The tempo's gonna take a bit to rebuild, but I promise it'll be worth it."
Just as he finished speaking, a loud crash echoed through the room as the wall practically exploded inward. Dust and debris settled, revealing none other than Wade Wilson, Deadpool, sprawled dramatically on the floor, his red-and-black-clad form trembling as exaggerated streams of tears flowed from the top of his mask.
"KC, MY BEAUTIFUL SWEET BABY BOY!" Wade wailed, crawling toward him with open arms. "YOU'RE BACK! I THOUGHT I LOST YOU! THE WORLD FELT COLDER! DARKER! LESS VIOLENT AND UNHINGED WITHOUT YOU!"
KC pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. "Wade. What the hell are you doing?"
Wade sniffled, wiping at his mask. "I brought you something!" He shot a pair of finger guns at KC and gestured wildly behind him. "Something to make you feel way better. Come on, come on, follow me!"
KC sighed but decided to humor him, following the mercenary through a side door. As soon as he stepped inside, he froze. His breath hitched. His eyes widened.
Because right in front of him, tied up and gagged, was none other than Zeb Wells.
For a moment, KC just stared, completely motionless. Then, a slow, twisted grin crept across his face, his shoulders trembling as he let out a deep, dark chuckle.
"Wade," he whispered, his voice laced with something downright sinister, "you beautiful, beautiful bastard."
Wade gave a mock bow. "Why, thank you, thank you, I do try."
KC took a deep breath, inhaling the moment, savoring the sheer catharsis that lay before him. Then, still grinning like a predator that just found a wounded gazelle, he turned to face the readers.
"Well, boys and girls," he said, his voice practically dripping with wicked amusement, "I'm going to enjoy this."
Zeb Wells thrashed in his restraints, muffled screams escaping through the gag. His eyes were wide, darting between KC and Deadpool, pleading for mercy. KC, however, was too busy cracking his knuckles, his sadistic grin never wavering.
"I hope you all have a wonderful weekend," KC continued, his voice smooth, almost pleasant. "Because I'm going to be enjoying my therapy stress ball—" his eyes flicked back to Wells, his grin stretching impossibly wider, "—whether you do or not."
Deadpool, still by the doorway, turned to the audience and gave an enthusiastic wave. "Alright, kiddos, this is where we part ways! Enjoy the popcorn, stay hydrated, and remember violence isn't the answer, it's the question, and the answer is yes."
KC's chuckling grew louder, evolving into full-blown maniacal laughter that echoed through the room like a symphony of impending doom. His shoulders shook with unrestrained glee as he slowly turned back toward the trembling, wide-eyed Zeb Wells.
Zeb Wells let out a muffled, desperate scream, his body thrashing against the restraints, but it was no use. KC took a step closer, his fingers dancing along the edge of the table beside him, as if contemplating which method of torment to use first.
His grin widened, his voice dropping to a dangerously gleeful whisper.
"Tell me, Mr. Wells... have you ever heard of The Human Centipede?"
Zeb's muffled shrieks reached new, frantic heights.
Thanks for reading everyone.
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