The Sims Guilty Conscience

The Sims Guilty Conscience

MSD3 (talk) 05:36, January 17, 2014 (UTC)MSD3

Introduction

Let me just start off by saying this. You do not have to believe me nor do you have to care about what I have to say. But for those of you who do want to listen, I just want to say thank you. What you are about to hear may sound...weird. I don't blame you if you think I'm a horrible person or if you think I'm a psychopath. I know what I've done is terrible, and to those I've hurt, I am sorry.

My Experience

My experience started with a game called "The sims 3". It was my favorite game. However, I've come to a realization that my fun, meant another's torment. A lesson I learned all too late. At first I began playing like anyone else would; I would make new sims, build their own homes, and fulfill their wishes and desires. I treated these sims well and gave them lives that they could be happy with. Even though they were just computer programs, it always made me feel good to see them happy, enjoying the life that I had made for them.

There were those times though when I became mischievous and would "toy" with them. I could do some interesting things with the power I had over them. I would scare them by sending ghosts to haunt their homes or send down meteors to make them panic. It may seem pretty cruel to enjoy their misfortunes, but I didn't care, it was fun to watch them panic and tremble with fear. I only did this whenever I felt sad or angry.

Which reminds me, I haven't even told you about myself. My name is john, It really doesn't matter what my name is anymore I suppose. I am a sophomore in college, going on my second year. I am what most people would consider to be a loner. I don't have many friends and I hardly get out. I just stay within my own little space, my own world. Being the loner that I am: I am easily picked on and am subjected to bullying on a regular basis. I've always tried to be nice to others and to respect them, but its been more than difficult to be the nice guy in a world that rewards those who conform to its wicked ways, while those who reject its ways are punished.

Hurting and seeing these sims fail in their everyday lives gave me some satisfaction. Making them suffer acted as an outlet for the anger and the hatred I had for those who had done me wrong. It was innocent, at least in my eyes it was. Yet the more I partook in this activity, the more I began to change. I noticed that my ways of relieving stress became all the more sinister.

My usual methods were originally used to frighten the sims and to make them have that momentary sense of terror. Then my methods were taken a little further: I would purposely set their house on fire and watch as they struggled to gain control of the situation. At first I would start them in rooms far from where my sims were, but eventually I set the fires nearer and nearer to them. It gave me a sick satisfaction to observe how they handled themselves while their possible demise grew ever closer to them. Sometimes the fire would reach them and begin to burn them as the flames crawled up off the floor and onto their bodies, their frail, fragile bodies. This gave me a satisfaction I had never felt before, it made me chuckle slightly, sometimes a little twisted grin would follow as I watched them run around frantically trying to find anyway to extinguish themselves and relieve the agonizing pain of being burned alive.

The sims soon shared my pain. The pain of rejection and the pain of ridicule became raging infernos that I set upon the sims that I chose as my victims. My attitude had also taken a darker turn. As I have mentioned, I am easily subjected to bullying. I would be beaten occasionally by some of the campus bullies, they had a slew of victims to choose from, unfortunately I was their favorite. During their beatings, nobody bothered to stop them and no one would ever stand up for the people that were subjected to these random beat downs. In fact, the only time I ever remember seeing anyone stop by was to watch the cruelty unfold. They would marvel at the brutality that went on and seemed to be enjoying it. This only fueled my hatred for these people. I had surpassed my feelings of anger and had replaced those feelings with a desire for revenge.

I now had no forgiveness left inside me, I had wasted my life catering to those who only wished to do me harm. I now only cared to see others hurt as much as I did, to see them get the torture that they so rightfully deserved. The sims became victims to my own forms of torture. I spent days altering the house I had made for my sims. Their house became a trap that would be used to satisfy my cravings for revenge.

I started by blocking of all the entrances and exits to the household one by one, I would build walls that enclosed the house from all sides and I even designed elaborate traps for my sims to find: Most of which would end in a the death of a sim. For example: one of the rooms I added included the use of a bathtub, and various electronic devices; I'm sure you could fill in the blanks from there. There were some maze-like rooms in which some sims would be lost for the longest time, eventually they would succumb to starvation and collapse on the ground. My most creative work though, was the use of a sim's mood.

Two sims were lead into an empty, dark room. After they had been led into the room I would replace the door with a wall trapping them inside with nothing but themselves. Time would then take its effect on the sim's mood, without the necessary components to improve the condition of their needs they would become more aggressive, and were less likely to cooperate with one another. The two sims would quickly become enemies and would grow to hate the other as time passed on. As soon as their mutual hatred was established I would place a plate of food in the middle of the room. I was at first doubtful that this would be as successful as I had thought, but to my surprise they acted exactly how I imagined they would: they would begin fighting over food and would continue to fight until one of them was incapable of fighting again. The victor would obtain the food, while the other starved to death.

There was however a problem. I was constantly having to find replacements for the sims that had passed away. Family after family moved into the house only to find themselves sharing the same fate as the family that came before them. Eventually I had run out of sims to play with. I would look all over the town, every corner, every street of every block; and I still found nothing. I had apparently killed off every sim that made up the community. I had actually caused a genocide among the sims that inhabited the city.

Without any sims to torture I became bored and would move onto another city to start up a new string of murder. As I was about to delete the now barren city that had once been flowing with life, something caught my eye. I decided to check my house one last time, and inside was one living sim. He had apparently survived my traps, whether it was due to my negligence or just a stubborn AI one truth remained. He was alive.

He was all that stood between me and my new victims. I tried my best to take control of him and lead into the various traps that filled the house, but to my dismay he would not comply. Instead he made his way into the bathroom and walked over to the broken laptop that was lying on the floor. He proceeded to repair the laptop and fixed it with little effort. He then sat down in a chair in what used to be the living room and began to type. As he typed a new window had popped up onto my screen. It was my Gmail.

My heart rate began speeding up and any sense of security faded from my mind. I nervously turned my head to see the words "one new message" at the top of the screen. I had to force myself to move the cursor over to the new message icon and click it. The message I had received was from...well I couldn't really tell: the space where the sender's username would appear was blank. The message however was as clear as it could be. The message read this "It's people like you who make the world a terrible place". My body was dead cold, shivers ran down my spine and beads of sweat began to accumulate upon my forehead. I tried to think of a reason any reason I could to justify my innocence. I responded "I'm not who you think I am, I only did this to ease some of my pain, I didn't think I was hurting anyone". The fear I was in was immense, I felt like a criminal awaiting his execution.

I anxiously waited for the next message to appear, but as I sat there I began to think of reasons why this wasn't happening. I reasoned that it was a nightmare: a dream that was caused by my subconscious that felt guilty for the senseless murder of all those sims. Another message came up: "You know exactly what you've done, I want to show you the suffering these people go through for your entertainment".

Instantly my game screen covered my entire monitor, I could see nothing else but the horror that was before me. The sim had taken me to an area that looked to be a void with small chambers that seemed to float effortlessly in the darkness that surrounded them. Inside these chambers were sims that were horribly disfigured: some looked like skeletons with charred remains of flesh that barely held onto the bones, there were some that were bloated and were choking up water that had apparently stagnated within their corpse, some were so skinny that their entire body structure could be seen, and there were others that were swarmed with flies that feasted upon their skin. They were all screaming out in agony, their combined screams conjoined into a massive uproar that seemed to fill the room.

I clasped my hands over my ears to drown out their cries, My ears were ringing and my whole body shook as their tortured cries unrelentingly raced through me. I sank to my knees and wept uncontrollably at the madness that filled this awful place, a voice then rang out above all the calamity and spoke: "Are you not pleased? This is what you wanted is it not? To have others share in your pain". I did not respond, my voice was gone, only to be replaced by raspy whimpers. I felt light headed and weary, the room around me felt as if it was fading out of existence. My vision was clouded by tears and my nose ran with mucus. I managed to choke out one question: "who are you?" The voice spoke again "arise and look upon me".

I lifted my face and wiped the moisture from my eyes. There standing before me was the lone surviving sim. I reeled back in terror and fell, only to be caught in the void, I struggled to escape but with no payoff. I turned my head once more to see the sim that was standing before me. The sim smiled as his skin began rotting and peeled away from the face to reveal a skull that kept its menacing grin even after the facial muscles had fallen. The void then enclosed the figure and enveloped him in it's essence, the void formed a robe black as night that covered the figures entire being. "I am that which separates body and spirit, that which has remained since the beginning of all time, that which comes for all beings at the end of their existence". The figure reached out in the empty space and pulled from it a scythe.

I was frozen in place, unable to turn away from the being that stood before me, he strode across the void towards me until he was near inches from my face. "He then whispered into my ear, "Join us". Everything then vanished: the voices, the cages, the sims, even the hooded figure fell from my sight. I woke up face down on the floor of my dorm room, moonlight shone through the blinds. I am unsure if what I had witnessed was real or if it was just a moment of insanity, at this point I am unknowing. I am sure of one thing however...I am a murderer.

For the past few days I have been unable to sleep: in my head are the visions of those "people" that are still down there, in pain for all eternity, I still hear their cries. I write this to you as a confession of my wrongdoings, an account for the sins I have committed. I am here before all of you that have listened thus far. I thank you for your time and your attention. With the end of this story, so with it ends my life. I have fashioned the sheets from my bed into a makeshift noose, the open window now acts as the trap door. I just want to say to all of you who suffer as I do...be strong. And to those of you whom I've hurt, I'm sorry......I'm sorry........I'm so...sorry.