People say reading’s supposed to be good for you.

I’ve never heard a bigger lie in my life. Reading has only ever brought me disappointment and heartbreak.

Firstly - disappointment. I read web fiction, and if you don’t know what that is then stay the hell away from this book. You don’t want to know what it is - because when you find out you’ll be hooked for life.

There are thousands - millions of web fiction readers all over the world. We hunt through vast piles of online garbage heaps in search of gold and gems.

I can’t tell you how many Naruto - Harry Potter - One Direction x werewolf x reader fanfictions I’ve fallen into on my quests to find a good read. My eyeballs have been scalded by bad sentence structures and inappropriate uses of it’s.

And then… when you find that perfect book - that one that keeps you up until 3am in the morning - that you read in the toilet while you should be socialising with real people… when you’re fully committed to the story - would give your life for the main character…

Well, that’s when the author stops updating. I can’t tell you how frustrated I’ve got with web fiction authors dropping their story for a shiny new one. I mean… come on people!! Don’t leave me hanging.

That’s where the heartbreak comes in.

It’s an abusive relationship - every time I get hurt by a book I swear I’m done with webfiction. Never picking up another.

And then the very next day/week I’ll be back reading some holy manuscript that a shady character in an online forum has recommended me.

It’s a constant circle of regret and love.

Of course, this is the part where I introduce Crusher Books.

That place is crusher by name - and crusher by nature. In the early days of the website/app its psychotic CEO Richard Balls started charging readers to read. Unheard of at the time.

Readers complained - but Balls didn’t care. He was able to offer authors more money than any other site and one by one all the independent reading sites fell under Balls’ control.

All that remained were a handful of forums with shitty coding and buggy updates - everyone ended up reading at Crusher Books.

And then they introduced Crusher’s Debt - if you signed their terms and conditions you could Read now, pay later!!

And so, without reading their encyclopedia-like Ts & Cs, I signed up. For a few glorious months, I had all you can eat fiction. Some of those damn books were so addictive I lost my job. Got evicted from my apartment, and ended up living in an emergency housing complex.

Looking back, I should’ve seen the fall coming, but I was so damn addicted to my fictions, I didn’t notice things changing around me. As long as I had something to eat. A place to charge my phone, and a place to shit. I was good.

Then one day, as I was two chapters from finishing Dragon That Twists Round and Round, I heard shouting.

I held my phone a little closer to my face - screaming was common in the shelter - cops were dragging people out all the time.

It was only when I felt two strong hands seize my wrists that I knew I was in trouble.

‘Eli the Hill?’ they said.

‘Just a moment,’ I replied, trying to speedread through the chapter as fast as I could.

‘We’re here from Crusher Media,’ the man said, ‘You’ve been racking up some debts.’

The man waited for a response. I held my breath. My fingers and eyes whirred down the chapter. I clicked next. Epilogue.

‘You owe the company $1,000,000.’ The man said.

‘Huh.’ I replied, my standard response when someone tries to talk to me when I’m reading.

The man dragged me to my feet and my phone slipped from my hands. The screen fell straight on the ground and bounced so that I could see the nice new crack marks that had formed across the screen.

Now, I was really angry.

‘You stupid monkey sucking, baboon humping, gorilla teasing…’

I didn’t get to finish my primate-themed string of insults as the man sprayed me with a can of gas that tasted strangely like the wet cardboard plates with tomato sauce on top that I’d eaten for breakfast.

The gas made me all queasy and I stumbled around a bit as he led me into the back of a van with darkened windows.

Don’t go in the van. I told myself.

‘Get in the van,’ the man said.

‘Chimpanzee c-,’ the man whacked me over the head so hard I flew headfirst into the van. He tried to shut the door, caught one of my legs in it. Gave my knee a savage kick, then swung the door shut with a BOOM!

I lay on the ground wondering what part of me hurt the most - I eventually decided that it was the part of me that had failed to finish reading Dragon that twists round and round.

Eventually, I realised I wasn’t the only body in the van. There were at least six guys and girls either passed out on the floor or struggling to stand up.

Then, as we rounded a final turn there was a hissing sound and a smell like rotten eggs. One by one we all collapsed unconscious.

****

I woke in a dingy grey room by myself. There was a red stain on the floor from where my head had been bleeding. I touched my head, it hurt, but the wound had scabbed over.

I had a pulsing migraine that was even worse than the time I’d tried to finish The Subspace Emissary's Worlds Conquest without sleep.

I tried to get to my feet, but my head hit the roof - there wasn’t even enough room to stand up. I was all wobbly. Trying to throw up, and ended up spewing a tiny bit of plate and tomato sauce from my morning snack.

Harsh bright lights kept me blinking.

‘Hello!’ I called out.

Nothing.

I looked around the room. It was tiny. All that was in it was a grey, dented, dirty bucket, an equally beat-up dish, a tiny blanket with little white stains all over it, and finally a knock-off iPad.

I crawled over to the tablet. It had been beaten up many times in its life. Cracks were scrawled across the screen and it had this giant bend in it. A mangled white charger that was more tape than cord was sticking out from the wall.

With a cough, I turned the tablet on. Man it was slow.

The thing took five minutes to boot up - and constantly gave the impression it was about to die.

Eventually, I got to the home screen. There were two apps. Crusher Books, and some weird video conferencing app. The tablet didn’t even show the time.

Hey. I’ve got web fictions. I thought to myself. It ain’t all bad.

I tapped on the video conferencing app. Wondering if I could call the police. But weirdly, there was no way to dial anyone. The thing didn’t have a single contact on it.

Shit.

I tried the Crusher Books app - deciding to make the best of a bad situation and finish Dragon twists round and round.

When I got in I could see the homepage - there was some sort of story about a chicken as number one. I laughed. People will read any old shit.

Then I searched for Dragon Twists Round and Round. It popped up and I clicked read.

Nothing.

I tried tapping it again - maybe the tablet was lagging.

Nothing.

I tried restarting it - waited ten fuming minutes, then tried again.

Nothing.

I tried to click on other stories - I couldn’t even open the chicken one (which I was starting to like the look of based on its description).

All I could do in the app was go to the writing section, and type - the keypad was terrible and had this mad lag that made me hella frustrated.

Eventually, I ripped the tablet from the charger and threw it on the ground, then stamped on it as best I could in the cramped space.

It did warm my heart a little to see a few more cracks spreading across the damn thing.

After that I had nothing to do. There was a tiny door I tried banging on a couple of times - but got no reply. The thing felt solid - like steel-plated or something.

I checked out the blanket - there were little things crawling on it that looked like fleas so I threw it into the bucket.

‘Now what?!’ I called out. Hoping whatever sicko had brought me here would at least let me know what was going on.

It was two hours later that the tablet started to spazz out.

I crawled over and picked it up. Then realised someone was calling me.

It took me three tries to accept the call - and I cut my finger on a piece of glass sticking out on the second attempt.

The screen flashed green and I realised I was staring at an office worker - white shirt - cringy yellow tie, and spectacles that sat on the end of his nose.

‘Hello Mr…’ He peeked at a piece of paper on his desk, ‘Mr Hill. My name is Mr Alex. I’m your author manager.’

‘Author manager? What the hell?’ I said, ‘You kidnapped me!’

Alex shook his spectacled head, ‘No Mr Hill… you signed a contract. You have debts to pay.’

I laughed, ‘You can’t be serious.’

Alex managed a smile - he pulled on his yellow tie. ‘I assume you’re referring to the tie.’

I picked up the tablet, ‘I’m referring to the fact you bloody kidnapped m-’

‘-I like to wear funky ties Mr Hill,’ He broke in, completely ignoring me, ‘you see, I’m a bit of a maverick. I think outside the box. These ties represent that.’

‘What the hell!’ I screamed, ‘You better get me the hell out of-’

I was cut off as funky tie Alex pressed a button on his keyboard. Two steel sprinklers dripped down from the roof and shot high-pressure beams of water at me, the water was so powerful I was thrown against the wall. I dropped the tablet, then looked down to see Alex directing the beams of water with his mouse.

‘I have rights!’ I shouted before I was cut off as a mega-powerful stream of water smashed into my mouth.

‘You lost your rights,’ Alex explained patiently, ‘when you failed to uphold the terms and conditions.’

He continued the hydro-abuse for a few more minutes before cracking his knuckles and pressing a button on his keyboard. The sprinklers shot back into the roof.

I started to shiver. My teeth chattered and my legs felt like jelly.

‘You now belong to Crusher Media,’ Alex said, ‘On that tablet, you’ll find our app where you can write web fictions.’

Alex adjusted his spectacles, ‘Right now your spending allowance is zero. That means you get no food, and no water.’

I tried to speak, but my chattering teeth wouldn’t let me.

‘The more people that view your web fictions, the more your spending allowance will go up.’ Alex smiled, ‘So if I were you, I’d get writing.’

Flecks of water dribbled from my lips, ‘N-n-no food?’

Alex nodded, ‘The sooner you start writing, the sooner you start earning.’ He adjusted the ugly yellow tie slightly and for a moment his face looked almost human, ‘I’ve had authors starve to death before - and man, it isn’t pretty.’

Then he tapped something on his computer and he was gone. I stared at the tablet - my mind numb. The screen was glitching slightly from the water.

I put the tablet back on charge. I looked at the bucket, then the beat-up metal dish. It was all starting to make sense, and yet it made no sense at all.

As if I was in a dream I grabbed the metal dish. Took off my shirt, and squeezed the water from the sprinklers into it. I did the same with my shorts, and reluctantly, my boxers.

I ended up with a half-filled dish of water. I took a small sip. Winced at how gross it was, and then sat down by the glitching tablet.

My mind was blank. All the web fictions that I’d ever read had deserted me. I knew how to read them, sure. But writing one? That’s a whole different story.

I thought about escaping. Doing a hunger strike or something. But the idea quickly passed. I’m no hero. I only live other people’s stories.

After an hour of staring at the wall. I crawled back over to the dish and took another small sip of water. It made me want to throw up.

I looked at the bucket. Wondered about taking a shit. And how the whole situation was shit. And it was then, that an idea hit me.