yossipossi authorphage

weryllium fucking dies


rating: +104+x

It was a late October afternoon, overcast but not too cloudy. WerylliumWeryllium sat alone in his room typing furiously at the final pages of his newest article, a short SCP about a man with green toes who could stretch his arms so far that they'd reach the moon. It was clear Weryllium had not slept for days, as he meticulously scanned every word, attempting to decide if it was necessary or if he could reduce the word count of his massive sixty-four word-long article even more.

Finally, he leaned back and stared at the article. Yes, it was perfect; no, it was beyond perfect. Every word contained billions of books-worth of author commentary and hidden meaning, and every opportunity to add a word that wasn't added had levels of logic beyond comprehension of even the most intelligent minds. Hawking wasn't shit compared to the genius it took to create this skip. It had Bible references, political allegories, deep philosophy, homestuck, and so much more only within the first line — nay, the first WORD of the article. He was proud.

A small, tingling sensation in his feet distracted Weryllium from his gloating. Looking down, he was appalled to see a small, blue creature with a large mouth and tail, and two large, unblinking black eyes. Frankly, it was mostly the shock that prevented Weryllium from kicking the thing into a pile of mush, but also the curiosity as to what this creature was and what it wanted from his toes. He wiggled them slightly, but the tingling only got more intense.

If he really thought about it, the creature attempting to eat his appendages was a form of flattery. Of all the people this thing could've chosen to take bites out of, it chose him! Yes, truly this was a unique and incredible opportunity. It signified something special about him, something which no one nearby him had. Could it be that he was simply that significant? That thought washed over him and made him smile.

Yes, he would take care of this creature, and raise it as a pet. That much was clear. But what would he name it? Anything would do — perhaps Charles, perhaps Larry, and perhaps, if it was female, Gerald. No, he got it — he'd name it Spike, which was a metaphor for the insanely sharp teeth the entity possessed and was currently using it to dig into his arms.

Wait, arms?

Weryllium looked down once more only to discover the entity had quadrupled in size and was now consuming his entire body. There went his Monday plans. Weryllium opened his mouth to scream, but his voice caught in his throat when a dilemma faced him — by screaming for help, he would be wasting precious words and otherwise extend the tale far longer than what was necessary to get the point across!

Truly in a sticky situation, Weryllium struggled against the authorphage's grasp as it slowly consumed more and more of his body. Finally, when Weryllium could hardly breathe and the entity's teeth had begun to digest his trachea, he formulated his last word which would forever impact the reader for the rest of time, influencing them to change their past and create a better future for the rest of humanity as a whole:


And then Weryllium Fucking Died.

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