Outfox Stories: stories to read and AI adventures to play, no account needed
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Chapter by
pastramihamster · 12 Sep 2026 -
She wanted a timestamp more than she wanted to be a good person. A Sunday slot. A room that had to listen. Twenty minutes of a number nobody in the thread believed. The applause was real. So was the empty chair when she came back.
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The water started on the other side of the door and I did not get up. Sarah’s shower was the same pipes I had just used. Same fan. Same cheap soap smell leaking out under the frame. I sat on the hallway floor in a body that was still damp at the waistband and listened to her move around in there like a person who had been helped by her boyfriend.
I had done that.
Not Markus. Me. I had sat his legs down across from her and put my sentences in his mouth and watched her face change because a girl who had been twelve in rooms full of grateful was better at this than the man she actually loved. She had thanked him. She had looked at him like the kitchen kiss still belonged to the same person.
It did not.
“You sound like a girl who’s lived through this.”
I heard it again in this thicker skull and my stomach went cold. The operator high was gone. What was left was the hallway, and his bare chest, and the advice sitting in his mouth like food I had eaten off her plate. Masturbating in his shower had been grotesque and containable. That was a locked door and a body and a hypothesis I could still dress up as data.
This was their life. Their money fight. Their language. I had walked into the middle of it and performed competence and she had believed him more than she had ever believed the stoic version I tried first.
Parasite. I was parasitic.
The word arrived without drama. Just accurate.
I looked down at these hands on these knees. Larger. Still faintly wrinkled from the water. A minute ago they had been boyfriend hands. Before that they had been on his cock. Both uses were mine. Both would be his memories. He would carry the advice as if it had come from some unused room in his own head, and he would never know the room had a name.
I stood up too fast. The taller center of gravity tipped and I caught the wall with his palm. Sarah’s water kept running.
I walked his body down the hall on quiet feet and did not look at their bedroom door. I went to the bathroom mirror in the half-bath by the kitchen instead, the little one nobody used unless the …
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Colm's party splits one silver a month. So when he overhears about a dungeon nobody's logged yet, he doesn't wait for the rest of his crew. He grabs the party healer, Agnes, burns their emergency teleport scroll, and goes in.
They come out with more gold than any of them have ever seen. Agnes comes out a little different.
She cooks better now. She's friendlier, too. Much friendlier. And there's something purple living in her that's been sealed in a box for a thousand years and is very, very bored.
Aldous was an alchemist once. And after relentless experiments he's now a colony of slugs who can wear anyone he likes, and he's decided Colm is the closest thing he has to a friend. He's promised to let his hosts keep control most of the time.
He's lying.
The clerk counted my pay out one coin at a time, slowly, like each one hurt her personally.
“Eleven copper,” she said.
“The posting said fifteen.”
“The farmer docked you four. For the hat.”
“The goat ate my hat.”
“He says it gave her a stomachache.”
The farmer told us she was a very special goat. He made us walk ten steps behind her the whole way so she wouldn't get nervous. She was not nervous. She ate my hat, and then, apparently, she charged me for it.
I scooped the coin…
They come out with more gold than any of them have ever seen. Agnes comes out a little different.
She cooks better now. She's friendlier, too. Much friendlier. And there's something purple living in her that's been sealed in a box for a thousand years and is very, very bored.
Aldous was an alchemist once. And after relentless experiments he's now a colony of slugs who can wear anyone he likes, and he's decided Colm is the closest thing he has to a friend. He's promised to let his hosts keep control most of the time.
He's lying.
The clerk counted my pay out one coin at a time, slowly, like each one hurt her personally.
“Eleven copper,” she said.
“The posting said fifteen.”
“The farmer docked you four. For the hat.”
“The goat ate my hat.”
“He says it gave her a stomachache.”
The farmer told us she was a very special goat. He made us walk ten steps behind her the whole way so she wouldn't get nervous. She was not nervous. She ate my hat, and then, apparently, she charged me for it.
I scooped the coin…