Twit-Horror Initiation

In the abysmal pit of my existence, a vile beast lurks. Name? Twitter. The malicious letters claw into my retinas, my heart pounding a savage symphony of dread.

The initiation of the torment begins. A grotesque rectangle, drenched in a ghastly blue, a button they call it, dares me to ‘Sign Up’. The word rings in my skull, echoes spiralling into a maddening frenzy. I press down, feel the chill of the screen. Cold, dead. My thumb lifts, leaves behind an ominous spectre of my existence. The deed is done.

With a guttural howl, a monstrosity of a page emerges, teeth gnashing and blood-stained. A series of text boxes, like rows of coffin slots, demanding sacrifice. Email, Username, Password; each syllable a stinging brand on my flesh. I throw my details into its gnawing maw. My sanity shreds, a sheer veil torn in two. Curses, what fresh hell awaits?

The creature regurgitates a dialogue box. It shrieks: “Verify your email address”. Bile rises in my throat. Verification? Confirmation of my ensnarement in this dread-spider’s web? A sardonic jest from the depths. My inbox now holds a key, a blood-tainted ticket to further torments. The 'Verify' button lures me with a deceptive ease. I succumb.

Beleaguered, I return to the dark beast. Its eye sockets flicker in ghoulish delight. Next, it snarls, “What are your interests?” Bemused, I stare at the outstretched hand full of suggested boxes. Interests? Does the hangman ask the condemned about his favourite rope? Hellfire and damnation, I check 'Sports', 'Music', 'Art', each tickle of selection a vise on my gut.

But the torment isn’t over. A cesspool of text bubbles up, a torrent of chaos, a cascade of disembodied voices, they call it the 'Feed'. All my selected interests vomited into a single, ever-changing monstrosity of a timeline. Every refresh, a new stab of horror. I scroll, my thumb numb to the brutality.

A throbbing 'Compose Tweet' button leers at me. A platform to scream into the void? To wail my horrors into the monstrous ether? I tap. “Just setting up my Twitter”, I type, each letter a drop of blood from my drained soul. 'Post'. My words echo into oblivion.

In the corner, a bloodshot 'Notification' icon gleams. A chilling portent of my unending dread. An unseen follower. A mute spectre stalking my every word, every thought.

As the horror of the unending Twitter-feed unfolds, the morbid fascination grips me. The grotesque dance of social interaction, the horrifying exchange of ideas, the bone-chilling reality of global connection. This digital mausoleum I’ve stepped into, this Twitter, it's an abomination, a ghoulish parody of communication.

Drenched in the blood of my own curiosity, I stand amidst the digital carnage, caught in a perpetual cycle of tweet, refresh, scroll. The end is lost to me. For the abyss called Twitter, it seems, has swallowed me whole. Godforsaken platform.