Cruelty Squad is no game. It’s a piece of art. A masterpiece.

PART I : CRUEL BEGINNINGS
For years of my life, I was drifting through games with no style, and everything looking the same. My soul was withering away from the sheer amount of omega realistic, shitty optimized, games. Fortnite, League of Legends, and other games just draining me of energy and cash. One day, I am asleep, and a faint sound comes from the window. I awake and leave my house. I look up and a beam of divine golden holy light shines upon me; The light burns away at the flesh, carving the name of something…. Something cruel. As I search upon steam, I see it. The name carved into my flesh by the divine lord. The game that will change my mind, MY SOUL, for the better. The game that will drive me to madness with the barfphics. Cruelty Squad.

PART II : A CRUEL WAIT
I buy Cruelty Squad on the spot. My soul intrigued by the shear disgustingness and brain-warping style of the game. My mind belittled by the sights and sounds and…smells…. Of the game. I sit waiting for the game to download, shaking at each percent of the game onto my computer. 98%, my body is shaking like a paint mixer. 99%, I’m sweating a hailstorm of bullets; a maelstrom of my tears covering me….. 100%, my body freezes. And Pandora’s box is opened.

PART III: A CRUEL DESCENT INTO MADNESS
I Start playing the game. The game blaring the sirens of hell into my ears. I scream out in pain to my friends in the discord call with me. My retinas burning out of my skull by the flashing colors. I’m blinded and deafened for seconds. I come back, and slowly go to the settings and turn the game down. I foolishly believed that the this divine game wouldn’t have trials to reach godhood. So I turn the game back up and click the start button. I feel my brain being re-wired, reprogrammed by the cyber-fucking colors and brainwave-altering music. The sounds of the boss telling me the mission is like angel-whispers to my ears. I open the weapons and get rid of the beta tranquilizer gun. I go into the mission. The mission: Pharmakokinetiks. The prey: Sigismund and Jerry. I walk into the buildings front entrance. The braptasticslly-beauty glazing by eyes and deepening the wrinkles in my brain. A eye appears onto my screen and in an instant I’m a pile of flesh on the ground, dead. I try again. Dead. And again. Dead. Each death driving the character and me from divinity and closer to the edge of oblivion, a great means of death, a dark rapture of emptiness of being death. The screams of my own heavenly, god-fearing soul pierce my brain in rage. I am driven into a cycle of melting flesh and peeling skin. My body, bloodied by my thousands of deaths. My head bloodied, beaten, and bulbous with disgustingly bloody pus bruises. Death. After Death. After Death. And then, I’m in the room with the cowardly Jerry. My disgustingly wet hands, wet with the gross mess of my past failures, aims my silenced D2 at his head, both of us shaking, waiting, to see who will draw first. I watch his head explode like a balloon filled with mashed red sewage all over the walls. I sit there. Looking down at what I done. My face soaking in the brain paste. I run out of the room to find that coward-bastard,
Sigismund. I find him, and without fear I fill him with thousands of bullets fro my smg. Nothing left after what I have done, I sprint to the exit, grunting with each jump, bullets wizzing by my head. Health ticking down, my blood fueled brain bomb finally ticking. JUST LET ME ESCAPETHISHELL. I SMASH INTO THE WALL AND! I’m free. My troubles leave me. I’m paid my paycheck and go back home and shower. I’m sitting in my chair, drenched. My body gives out and I am able to play another day.

PART IV: A CRUEL MENTAL SNAP

I don’t know if I truly slept or i was in a daze a trance of playing the game Wires covering my body i have no need for food anymore because I replaced my stomach with a cyber-blackhole-food-traveling-device I have no need for drinking because I have installed sweat-microsystems to reuse bodily fluids for water I play the game and only the game I am a murdering Machine no target no prey no man woman child can survive my arsenal my brain replaced with a pure breed cybersoft 200 gigapounds of tech for pure 298% reaction speed I am a stock predicting god but I don’t feel hole my divine soul is gone and those fuckers took it from me it’s never returning my spot in heaven gone I have no need for heaven or faith that because I can’t die I am killed and regurgitated back into a cybercycle of fucking drugs murder cash death repeat my brain is gone I HAVE NO SOUL MY BODY IS GONE I AM WITHERING A HUSK OF A FORMAL MAN DYING ON THE PATH OF MURDER JUST TO BE DRAGGED BACK INTO A CYCLE OF FUCK DRUG KILL CASH DEAD FUCK DRIG KILL CASH DEAD
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Part V: Freedom from the Cruelty.

I’ve escaped the business, the cruelty, of this game. I have killed millions. Watched lives come and go, on repeat, until the end of time. I’m a sextontingazillionaire. I bought a house. I’m happy. I’m. Happy. I’m
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I҉ ҉A҉M҉ ҉N҉O҉T҉ ҉F҉R҉E҉E҉ ҉I҉ ҉M҉U҉S҉T҉ ҉E҉N҉D҉ ҉T҉H҉E҉ ҉C҉Y҉C҉L҉E҉ ҉O҉F҉ ҉D҉E҉A҉T҉H҉ ҉I҉ ҉M҉U҉S҉T҉ ҉K҉I҉L҉L҉ ҉T҉H҉E҉ ҉F҉I҉N҉A҉L҉ ҉G҉O҉D҉S҉ ҉K҉I҉N҉G҉S҉R҉E҉I҉G҉N҉O҉V҉E҉R҉M҉E҉I҉M҉N҉O҉T҉G҉A҉P҉P҉Y҉I҉ ҉M҉U҉S҉T҉E҉N҉D҉T҉H҉I҉S҉M҉I҉S҉R҉Y҉ ҉I҉ ҉H҉A҉V҉E҉ ҉T҉O҉ ҉D҉I҉E҉ ҉I҉ ҉H҉A҉V҉E҉ ҉T҉O҉D҉I҉E҉ ҉F҉U҉C҉K҉I҉N҉G҉ ҉K҉I҉L҉L҉ ҉M҉E҉ ҉T҉H҉E҉ ҉B҉R҉A҉I҉N҉ ҉M҉E҉A҉N҉ ҉S҉E҉A҉P҉S҉ ҉I҉N҉ ҉M҉Y҉ ҉W҉O҉U҉N҉D҉S҉ ҉T҉H҉E҉ ҉P҉A҉S҉T҉F҉U҉T҉U҉T҉R҉ ҉P҉R҉E҉S҉E҉N҉T҉ ҉M҉W҉A҉N҉ ҉N҉O҉T҉H҉I҉N҉G҉ ҉W҉H҉E҉N҉ ҉Y҉O҉U҉R҉ ҉U҉N҉E҉N҉D҉I҉N҉G҉ ҉I҉ ҉M҉U҉S҉T҉ ҉D҉I҉E҉D҉D҉I҉R҉ ҉D҉I҉E҉ ҉D҉I҉E҉ ҉D҉R҉ ҉D҉I҉E҉ ҉D҉I҉E҉

P̴A̴R̴T̴V̴I̴E̴N̴D̴I̴B̴G̴T̴H̴E̴C̴Y̴C̴L̴E̴O̴F̴F̴U̴C̴K̴I̴N̴G̴C̴R̴U̴E̴L̴T̴Y̴S̴Q̴U̴A̴D̴K̴I̴L̴L̴I̴N̴G̴H̴E̴S̴E̴L̴F̴E̴A̴T̴I̴N̴G̴S̴E̴R̴P̴A̴N̴T̴I̴D̴I̴E̴M̴I̴L̴L̴I̴O̴N̴S̴O̴F̴T̴I̴M̴E̴S̴W̴I̴T̴H̴I̴N̴T̴H̴I̴S̴H̴E̴L̴L̴Z̴O̴N̴E̴C̴O̴V̴E̴R̴D̴D̴I̴N̴F̴E̴C̴A̴L̴F̴U̴C̴K̴S̴N̴D̴G̴U̴L̴L̴B̴L̴A̴D̴D̴E̴R̴M̴E̴A̴T̴I̴P̴R̴A̴Y̴F̴O̴R̴D̴E̴A̴T̴H̴I̴K̴I̴L̴L̴E̴V̴E̴Y̴T̴H̴I̴N̴G̴U̴N̴T̴I̴L̴I̴T̴S̴N̴O̴T̴H̴I̴N̴G̴D̴E̴V̴O̴U̴R̴I̴N̴G̴T̴H̴E̴I̴R̴O̴R̴G̴A̴B̴S̴T̴H̴E̴C̴Y̴B̴E̴R̴B̴R̴A̴I̴N̴F̴U̴C̴K̴P̴A̴I̴N̴S̴C̴R̴E̴A̴M̴I̴N̴G̴F̴R̴E̴E̴Z̴I̴N̴G̴B̴U̴R̴N̴I̴N̴G̴D̴Y̴I̴N̴G̴L̴I̴V̴I̴N̴G̴E̴N̴D̴T̴H̴I̴S̴N̴O̴W̴C̴E̴O̴M̴E̴A̴N̴S̴N̴O̴T̴H̴I̴N̴G̴W̴H̴E̴N̴I̴T̴S̴J̴U̴S̴T̴Y̴O̴U̴A̴N̴D̴Y̴O̴U̴R̴S̴E̴L̴F̴I̴R̴E̴A̴C̴H̴T̴H̴E̴C̴R̴A̴D̴L̴E̴O̴F̴L̴I̴F̴E̴I̴S̴G̴O̴N̴E̴A̴C̴O̴N̴C̴E̴P̴T̴I̴S̴E̴L̴F̴E̴R̴R̴A̴D̴I̴C̴A̴T̴E̴D̴W̴I̴T̴H̴A̴S̴M̴I̴L̴E̴O̴N̴M̴Y̴F̴A̴C̴E̴I̴G̴R̴A̴B̴T̴H̴E̴O̴N̴I̴O̴N̴A̴N̴D̴S̴T̴A̴R̴T̴P̴E̴E̴L̴I̴N̴G̴