strictly 18+

You have teeth, but you only bite yourself.

1988, Nevada. You're a night auditor at a pyrotechnics warehouse. 

Your work is to count the fireworks. Or, well, that's just what you've been doing for the past few months.

You hate it. You don't mind.

Thoughts - a variable.

Fireworks - a variable.

Those fireworks that gnaw on the bars and bark without a stop...

Future chapters will tell you more - body horror,  gay sex, drugs and other fun things.
This page will be changing as the development progresses.