Lateral
Be the raped yesterday, become the rapist tomorrow
- Joined
- May 2, 2026
- Messages
- 2,195
It was a cloudy autumn evening in Vancouver, Canada. A perfect time to play some of my favorite Valve games like Team Fortress 2 and CS:GO. But when I booted up Steam, I saw something special: an invite from my friend “Shroot” to playtest a new Valve game in the works called “Deadlock.”
I was absolutely pumped to try this awesome-looking game. The more I read the description, the more excited I got. It seemed like the perfect game to waste hours of my life on while delaying getting a job. So I tried downloading the game, but my antivirus stopped me with a strange message.
“Please do not download this game.”
I thought it was some weird glitch and ignored the warning. I then proceeded to open up the game and queue for a round. I noticed this game appeared to have a terrible matchmaking system as it was taking several minutes to start, but I figured it could just be because of the exclusive nature of the game.
The longer I waited, the stranger my computer began acting. On the screen, it seemed to be flashing figures of entities I have never seen in my life. It also felt that voices were speaking to me through the speakers, telling me I made a mistake.
I assumed the boredom from waiting for a match was making me go insane and ignored it. But when I finally got to play, all of my fears were validated.
One second in. I don’t know what I’m seeing, but I can only describe it as “wrong,” “disgusting,” and “horrifying.” I was having such a visceral reaction to something I did not even understand.
Five seconds in. I’m desperately trying to close the game, but I am simply so disoriented I can not click on the x button. My vision of reality was being twisted by the disgusting character and map designs and horrifying visuals, almost like I was being transported inside the game.
Ten seconds in. Originally, I was not trying to play the game. Even the idea of trying to see what abilities my character had disgusted me. But some outside force began to puppet my body to force me to play. I tried to force my hand away, but I couldn’t.
Twenty seconds in. Playing deadlock was somehow even more painful than watching it. It wasn’t a physical pain, but some sensation that the gameplay I was forced to endure was so vile, so insufferable that being crucified would be far preferable. I never thought that bad gameplay could be painful, but this game had otherwordly powers.
Thirty seconds in. It was as if I was glued to the seat, as were my eyes to the screen and my hands to the keyboard. All I could do was scream for someone to save me and weep for my loss of innocence. I wondered if I would even make it out alive, and even if so, whether I would have any will to live.
Fourty seconds in. I tried to wrap my head around why this random game had such a sreal womang effect on my mental state. I completely failed, perhaps because of how the game was a deadly poison to my brain. This is where something even stranger happened: my skin began turning browner and I began gaining tons of weight.
Fifty seconds in. I could never imagine something so horrifically unplayable could also be so dull. At this point, my possessed hands had already done any interesting or creative tactic the game had to offer. It was the same generic team shooter gameplay, yet it gave the pain of being buried alive. My body continued transforming, with me sprouting giant red lips and hundreds of awards.
One minute in. My mother finally came in, saying it’s time for dinner and to get off my game. I was unable to respond, so my mother thankfully shut it off for me, freeing me from the curse. Unfortunately, it was far too late. My shirt had fused with my body, turning into a trans-flag pattern with the words “WHITEST PREDLOCK PLAYER.”
I was completely insane, only being able to speak in ESL noobbabble and constantly whining when not able to use Discord. My parents took me to the hospital, which decided to euthanize me because they’re Canadian. They gave me some drugs first which temporarily restored my lucidity so I can write this warning to never play Deadlock.
I was absolutely pumped to try this awesome-looking game. The more I read the description, the more excited I got. It seemed like the perfect game to waste hours of my life on while delaying getting a job. So I tried downloading the game, but my antivirus stopped me with a strange message.
“Please do not download this game.”
I thought it was some weird glitch and ignored the warning. I then proceeded to open up the game and queue for a round. I noticed this game appeared to have a terrible matchmaking system as it was taking several minutes to start, but I figured it could just be because of the exclusive nature of the game.
The longer I waited, the stranger my computer began acting. On the screen, it seemed to be flashing figures of entities I have never seen in my life. It also felt that voices were speaking to me through the speakers, telling me I made a mistake.
I assumed the boredom from waiting for a match was making me go insane and ignored it. But when I finally got to play, all of my fears were validated.
One second in. I don’t know what I’m seeing, but I can only describe it as “wrong,” “disgusting,” and “horrifying.” I was having such a visceral reaction to something I did not even understand.
Five seconds in. I’m desperately trying to close the game, but I am simply so disoriented I can not click on the x button. My vision of reality was being twisted by the disgusting character and map designs and horrifying visuals, almost like I was being transported inside the game.
Ten seconds in. Originally, I was not trying to play the game. Even the idea of trying to see what abilities my character had disgusted me. But some outside force began to puppet my body to force me to play. I tried to force my hand away, but I couldn’t.
Twenty seconds in. Playing deadlock was somehow even more painful than watching it. It wasn’t a physical pain, but some sensation that the gameplay I was forced to endure was so vile, so insufferable that being crucified would be far preferable. I never thought that bad gameplay could be painful, but this game had otherwordly powers.
Thirty seconds in. It was as if I was glued to the seat, as were my eyes to the screen and my hands to the keyboard. All I could do was scream for someone to save me and weep for my loss of innocence. I wondered if I would even make it out alive, and even if so, whether I would have any will to live.
Fourty seconds in. I tried to wrap my head around why this random game had such a sreal womang effect on my mental state. I completely failed, perhaps because of how the game was a deadly poison to my brain. This is where something even stranger happened: my skin began turning browner and I began gaining tons of weight.
Fifty seconds in. I could never imagine something so horrifically unplayable could also be so dull. At this point, my possessed hands had already done any interesting or creative tactic the game had to offer. It was the same generic team shooter gameplay, yet it gave the pain of being buried alive. My body continued transforming, with me sprouting giant red lips and hundreds of awards.
One minute in. My mother finally came in, saying it’s time for dinner and to get off my game. I was unable to respond, so my mother thankfully shut it off for me, freeing me from the curse. Unfortunately, it was far too late. My shirt had fused with my body, turning into a trans-flag pattern with the words “WHITEST PREDLOCK PLAYER.”
I was completely insane, only being able to speak in ESL noobbabble and constantly whining when not able to use Discord. My parents took me to the hospital, which decided to euthanize me because they’re Canadian. They gave me some drugs first which temporarily restored my lucidity so I can write this warning to never play Deadlock.
