I love Cry, but I wanted to write something about him.

Please, anyone who reads this, don't hate me for it.

-D.O.C

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I don't own Cryaotic... It'd be pretty damn weird, if I did.

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A man sat at his computer.

And sat.

And sat.

"What to do..." He muttered, sipping on a beer, enjoying the small break he had between games, on the stream.

His eyes flashed back to the subscriber count on his channel, which was opened in a separate window.

Hitting the refresh button, his breath caught in his throat.

996,933 Subscribers

Refresh.

996,949 Subscribers

Refresh.

996,968 Subscribers

Refresh.

996,989 Subscribers

"What am I going to do...?" He moaned. Youtube was getting hectic, for him, now.

A voice, even raspier and deeper than his own, "dramatic," voice, drifted into his headphones.

"Do about what?" The disembodied growl startled the man.

"Christ!... Did I say that into my mic?" He blinked, shaking off the shiver that threatened to make his hairs stand on end. "Snake, you gotta stop sneaking up on me!"

"Cry, how am I supposed to sneak up on you, when we live miles apart?" The other voice rasped, and the man could imagine his friend's brow raising.

He, Cryaotic, clenched his teeth, but deflated.

"Snake, shut up."

A gritty sigh floated into his ears, "Come on, now, whelp. What's wrong?"

Cry sighed, "I'm gonna hit a million, soon, I think."

"You think?" Snake taunted, from behind his own computer screen, eyes skimming over his list of random games he had accumulated, over the years.

"Yeah. I think." The first man snapped, "You never know what will happen!"

Selecting the next piece of the stream, Snake checked the schedule, once more. 'More Gmod? Eh, what's new?'

"How many subscribers do you have?"

Cry gulped, and hit refresh.

997,237 Subscribers

Relaying the number to Snake, the latter scoffed.

"There is no, 'think,' you're going to hit a million, at this rate."

Cry's hiccoughed, blinking. "What am I gonna do?"

"For what?" Snake's microphone delivered the tinkling of ice in his glass, as he took a swig of gin.

"Should I read a fanfiction? Or get someone to co-op with?" Cry became frantic.

A growl soothed him, "You don't have to do anything. They won't care if you don't."

Cryaotic nodded, knowing the other couldn't hear his reply.

A third voice interrupted their conversation, but Cry cut off their mutual friend, Scott Jund.

"Hey guys! Thirty sec-"

"Hey, I gotta go, Jund."

"What-"

The man ended their skype call, mind running, mouthing the words that echoed around his skull.

"Ugh," He shook his head, "I'm getting a headache. I should just go sit, for a bit."

As he took his post on his small couch, he shut his eyes, settling back into the cushions.

Behind his lids, he saw a dancing monster, heard his own voice singing nonsense. His lips quirked.

He saw a slack-jawed monster swaggering towards him on hobbling feet, snarling, high pitched buzzing filling his mind. He shivered, the smile still playing on his mouth.

Seeing a hand hammering away at the ground, he gave a snort, as he saw himself fall into the endless ocean, beneath the world of Minecraft.

Cry swallowed as a headless, steel-grey woman strutted towards him, brandishing a knife, splattered with white blood.

A couple, both made of sharp polygons, argued with each other, trying to drag him into the fight.

A glowing, cyan portal opened below him, passing him through a portal in his ceiling, back into the former. He laughed as he pretended to retch.

He grinned as a boy pranced past him, body shrouded in inky shadows, a pair of bright white eyes shining as he ran towards a one-legged spider.

A teenage boy swallowed his girlfriend's organs, pacemaker and all, coated in her blood, along with his parents'. Cry beamed with pride, as a younger version of his voice narrated the scene, perfectly.

Women fought to the death, clad in only bikinis, and he started to chortle at the ridiculous sight.

A purple-skinned mutant appeared in his field of view, chasing a silver-haired male.

The infamous vampire fanfiction was read, thundering in his own ears, white letters flickering in his blacked-out vision.

A dragon distracted the man about to cut his head off.

Cry felt tears prick the corners of his eyes, as an old man died, with memories in his head, that were artificially placed there.

He then jumped a bit, hearing his own voice snarling Edgar Allen Poe's work. He heard himself cackle, portraying an utterly insane character.

He saw a young girl in a pleated skirt, holding a red rose, as if her life depended on it.

A tall, faceless man caused his eyes to shake with imaginary static.

A bratty girl was stranded in a strange town, in the middle of the desert, unaware of the demonic monsters that surrounded her.

Cry snarled as a group of Japanese students, along with a teacher, all pulled on a paper charm, not knowing that they would go through hell together, and that not all of them would make it out alive.

A pigeon danced past his vision, stomping on a pudding cup.

A witch disguised herself as an innocent girl, causing his blood to boil.

Chainsaw in hand, a father chased his only daughter down a corridor, shrieking her name, babbling about eternal beauty.

He sniffled as a young girl was forced to shoot her guardian in the head, to prevent him from coming back to the living world.

Cry smiled as a red-headed boy smacked a floating spirit with a golf club.

A depressed woman strapped on a gas mask, cocking a shot gun as she went to end a knife-wielding hag's life.

A girl walked past him, corset tight around her ribs, offering a handful of silver coins to a rugged man, who held a carbine in one hand, while his other grew black claws, crows circling his arm.

Another man simply held bloody scissors, both eyes gone, empty pits in their places.

Cry giggled, when a pretty girl strutted into his peripheral vision, talking to a robotic monkey.

A second female jumped over his head, one of her hands gloved, surrounded by the pixels of shattered memories.

A truck drove past him, country music playing softly, as a girl asked the driver, "Why are these pages stuck together?"

He laughed as a sexy police woman sashayed into the blackness behind his lids, ruby lips parting over pearly fangs, as she jumped onto a homeless man, biting into his neck, ever so careful to not drain him dry.

Cry opened his eyes, a goofy smile stretching his lips, and he jumped into his computer chair.

Clicking on the tab with his youtube channel's page, he hit refresh, laughing giddily at his subscriber count.

999,999 Subscribers

Hitting that damned button one last time, he had to laugh. It was just his luck to miss the big moment.

1,000,001 Subscribers

Opening a recording application, he hit the red circle with his mouse, a, "Thank you," slipping past his teeth, and a fluttering in his chest.

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I know, it's stupid.

But, wouldn't it be pretty sweet if Cry read this for a Million Subscriber celebration video? XD

Have a great day, readers!

-D.O.C