The Wishing Game

[Arjahn]

Wish granted, but it was you with your mechanical arm that you got after the last time you tried to punch Mike Tyson and he tore your arm off. Now the arm's sentience is growing and slowly overpowering your own consciousness, it hungers for vengeance, and you begin to feel its hunger overcome your mind. You return to the scene of your previous dismemberment, crumble Tyson's feeble walls with your newfound strength, and as you pound his lifeless corpse to an unrecognizable pulp, the arm's taste for blood grows exponentially stronger, and your own perception of reality slips even further. The arm demolishes the rest of the house along with everyone inside of it, growing in size with each victim, grafting their souls and their skulls into itself, gaining their strength. As its hunger grows and grows with each new victim, so does its power. Soon the unstoppable hulk of an arm propels itself with no need for you to transport it any longer. As it mercilessly destroys everything and everyone you ever loved, you're just dangling from it's marauding being; a limb of sorts, like an arm with no purpose. Just like how the arm itself once thought, everyone thought it was just a worthless expenditure of another sentient being, but now those who dared to look upon him with such pitiful glances are entrapped within the arm for all eternity.




*cough* Anyhoo, I wish to be a poor, worthless human being at the lowest fragmented level of society.