For those pastas that are smelling less than fresh…

August 14, 2015
by derpbutt

Mind Games

Something was different, off, as I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I shrugged it off as nothing important and went about my day, like usual. I drank one cup of coffee, black, just the way I liked it, and drove to my office job in the cities.

On the way there I decided to stop at a gas station and use the restroom, I’m not sure what compelled me to do this, but either way I did. I stared into the mirror once more and noticed that I had aged what looked like 30 years, and being a young, 20 something it scared the living shit out of me. I quickly felt my face, and noticing that it felt normal, once again went on with my day.

Once I got to the office I had the uncontrollable urge to run into the bathroom again and as soon as I did, I noticed that not only had my face aged what looked to be 50 years, my hair was now all gray and scraggly looking. Once again, I felt my face, normal. I was beginning to become more frantic and worried, I decided I wouldn’t let it bother me and went back to work.

I went to the bathroom seven more times that day to check on my appearance. Nothing had changed at first but the fourth or fifth time was different. My eyes began to cloud over and my skin had begun to start slowly peeling off. I became terrified and locked myself in one of the bathroom stalls for the rest of my 4 hours. It was finally time to go home once I came out again, I looked in the mirror one more time and was absolutely disgusted. The thing that was looking back at me didn’t even look like me anymore, it was a grayish, festering skeleton with a few strands of unruly gray hair here and there, and had maggots and other insects feeding on what little tissue from my face remained. I instantly became sick, losing all content from my stomach onto the white, tile floor beneath me. I rushed home and quickly checked my bathroom mirror, and the only thing staring back at me was, me. A normal me.

Credit To – Kaya Francel
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August 14, 2015
by derpbutt

The Green Book

I had just finished a long shift at work and was exhausted. I started climbing the stairs towards my apartment when I thought I saw something in the corner of my eye. I glanced in the direction but saw nothing there. I shrugged it off as a hallucination due to fatigue and continued to my place. Once I entered my apartment I locked the door. Too tired to do anything else I went straight to bed. Falling asleep the second my head hit the pillow.
After some time, something startled me awake from my deep sleep. I opened my eyes and allowed them to adjust to the darkness. It was then I first heard it.
“Can you read my story?” The voice squeaked.
I looked up and all I could see was a green book sitting on a table in the corner of my room. I resisted the urge to get up and retrieve it as every instinct told me something bad would happen if I left my bed. I put my head back down and closed my eyes to go back to sleep. Just as I was about to drift back asleep the voice returned.
“Can you read my story?”
I shot back up and looked directly at the table in the corner. This time a small boy with red hair was standing there holding the book in his hand. His back was facing me so I could not see his face but for some reason, I just knew I didn’t want him to turn around. I don’t know why I did it but I decided to talk to the boy.
“Ex-excuse me?” This was all I could stammer out.
“Can you read my story?” The boy questioned
“Uh…no. Go away.”
Acting like a child myself, I pulled my blankets up to my eyes and closed them hoping if I could just get to sleep he would be gone. Just when I thought I was safe, the voice returned.
“Can you read my story?”
I thought ignoring him was best at this point so I tried harder to fall back asleep. After a few moments the boys’ question returned.
“Can you read my story?” He seemed to be getting more demanding.
I felt something on my bed so I looked up. The red haired boy was now sitting at the foot of the bed. His back was still facing me and I still desperately didn’t want him to turn around.
“No!!” I shouted, the fear choking out the power of my voice. Like a coward I buried my face in my pillow, wishing the boy would just go away. I could feel him slowly crawl closer to my head. When he got halfway he spoke again.
“Can you read my story?”
“Just leave me alone!” I screamed
I pulled my blanket over my head and closed my eyes as tightly as possible. I felt the child come closer. I could almost feel his breath. Something hard touched my face just as he asked his question again.
“Can you read my story?”
My eyes shot open. His green book was touching my face. The boy was to my right only inches from my face. His back was still turned to me. I finally reached for the book making sure not to touch the boy. I don’t want to think what would have happened if I had touched him. I thought if I read his stupid story he would leave me alone.
I opened the book to the first page. It was blank. I turned to the second page, blank as well. The third, fourth, fifth, all the pages were blank till the last page. I read out loud what was written.
“The man in the bed is my friend. He makes me happy to watch him sleep. I don’t mean to scare him, for we are friends. The man must not be afraid of me. I promise the man I will not hurt him. The man is safe when I am here. Don’t worry mister. Don’t you worry your tired little head.”
When I finished reading I looked to my right and the boy was gone. I looked around the room and he had vanished without a trace. Disturbed by the book I had I read I threw it in the corner and finally went back to sleep.
I am not sure how much time had passed when I heard the boy’s voice again whispering in my ear.
“Can you read my other story?”
My eyes flapped open and I sat straight up. I saw no sign of the boy around me. Beside my pillows there was a new notebook. I looked exactly the same as the previous book except it was tan in color and the edges looked quite worn. Going against my gut feeling, I picked up the book and turned to the first page. It was filled with the same six words over and over written in red ink. The green book is a lie. The green book is a lie. The green book is a lie. No matter what page I turned to this was repeated again and again. The green book is a lie. The green book is a lie. The green book is a lie. Finally I turned to the last page and two words were written covering the entire page.
I did as the book commanded and I came face to face with the boy. He had a big smile that revealed his eerily white teeth that spread from cheek to cheek. His hair was still red but appeared more vibrant, almost like blood. And the worst part of all was his eyes. They were completely black. They stared directly into mine and chilled the very essence of my soul. No matter what I did I couldn’t stop staring at those evil black eyes.

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August 14, 2015
by derpbutt

The Mirror of Truth

The Mirror of Truth

We all get sad. We all get put down. Sometimes it’s just a little worse for others. Rose Greene had something lots of people don’t have, natural beauty. That made people jealous. They teased her and made her flaws seem like they were so much more than they were.

When her mother noticed that she was acting strangely, coming home with bruises and split lips, she asked Rose about it but Rose refused to engage. Although she knew her husband believed that when Rose needed them she would go to them, that she needed to take care of herself, the mother went to the Principal’s office, regardless. The principal brushed off her concerns as, “Children being children.” The mother left his office outraged.

When the mother returned home, Rose was in her room cleaning up her injuries. The mother tried to garner information once more, but Rose brushed past her and said over her shoulder, “I am going out for a walk.”

Her mother was hesitant to let her go, but called out, “Okay, but be back before six.”

Rose, tired from the day’s beatings, walked over to the cul-de-sac on the next block. She saw an elderly lady bringing in a table from a garage sale. The lady looked like she was having a hard time getting it to fold up. Rose jogged over to her and asked, “Can I help you, ma’am?”

The lady smiled and nodded. When they got the table in the lady said, “Go on, dearie, pick something from the leftovers for helping me.”

Rose tried to refuse the offer since she had not brought any money, but the lady was adamant that she take something. All that was left was a rubber band of toothbrushes that looked like they had been used or a mirror with an intricate flower and swirl design around the border. Rose picked up the mirror and the lady smiled, “Nice pick, dearie, now run along home. It’s nearly six.”

Rose looked at the lady strangely because she had never said aloud when she needed to be home. The lady gazed at her inauspiciously as she shooed her away with a crooked hand. Rose jogged all the way home and put the mirror in a box on the floor of her closet.

Days and weeks passed by and nothing changed; bullying by day, awkwardness at night. Rose had no idea how to explain to her mother what was going on, because she didn’t understand it herself. She was ashamed of being a victim and mortified to ask for help, even from her own mother.

One afternoon Rose returned home and found a note from her mother that said, “Honey, I went into your room and realized I don’t remember what color carpet you have. I am disappointed by the mess and I expect it to be cleaned up by this evening when I get home. I trust you to make your supper and PICK UP YOUR ROOM! Love, Mom.”

Rose grimaced at the idea of picking up her room and knew she needed to do it to avoid confrontation. She went upstairs and gasped in surprise as she entered her room: it was spotless. Her shock intensified she noticed a transparent-looking girl sitting on her bed. She was beautiful, despite being covered in cuts and bruises, the battle wounds of a bullied kid.

“My name is Sabrina, I am a lot like you. I was bullied for being beautiful, just like you are. I want to help you get back at them, everyone who has hurt you. I came from the mirror, the Mirror of Truth. If you were to look inside of this mirror then you would see yourself perfectly healthy and radiant. If someone unkind were to look into this mirror, then they would see themselves as ugly as they were on the inside and they would feel the pain of every thing they did to cause harm.”

Rose knew she should be horrified, not only that there was a spirit sitting on her bed, but also because it was talking to her. She wasn’t, she was intrigued by her, instead, and nodded eagerly. “Tell me how to do this.”

“Show them my mirror, then all the pain they have brought on you will be reflected back onto them. They will suffer as we have.” After her ominous parting words, Sabrina vanished. Rose put the mirror into her school bag and went to bed.

The next day Rose woke up and got ready in record time. Sabrina appeared at breakfast. Rose look from her parents to Sabrina and back again. She looked at Sabrina questioningly to which Sabrina said, “They can’t see me unless I want to be seen.” Rose nodded subtly that she understood.

As always, when Rose got to school the cheerleader, Ashley, and the football player, Lance, intentionally walked up to her, shoving her as they passed by. “You’re gonna get it later, freak,” Ashley said under her breath.

“Don’t listen to her. She’ll get what is coming to her,” Rose heard.

Despite getting through her school day with only a few discreet shoves, but nothing that would cause any bruising, Rose still looked for Ashley and Lance after school. Sabrina appeared in front of her and encouraged her to go follow them home, but she chickened out and went home herself.

When she got to her house, she switched her clothes into her black jeans and her dark red sweat shirt. Then she grabbed the mirror and was ready to go. Rose took her time walking through the woods to get to Ashley’s house. She didn’t knock she tried the door handle and it was unlocked, so she let herself in. She creeped up the stairs and tip-toed from room to room until she found Ashley’s bedroom where she was trying on clothes.

When Ashley saw her she hollered, “What are you doing here, freak!”

Revenge. “Revenge,” Rose and Sabrina said in unison. Rose put the mirror in front of Ashley’s face. The girl screamed in pain as her nose grew hooked and bulbous. The hair on her head grew longer, dry and brittle, while dark, coarse hair grew on her body. Her hands became gnarled while the bones in her limbs twisted and turned beneath her skin. Her teeth were pulled outward and turned towards each other. Her entire being was becoming as ugly as she was on the inside.

“Stop, please,” she pleaded of Rose.
“Did you ever stop for me! Did you ever listen to my pleas! I will not stop, you will feel the consequences of your actions.”
“Leave now, Rose, I will finish her. I will make her pay.”

Rose turned and walked away without even a glance back. Her torment was over. Her tormentor was done.

Credit To – Darien F.

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August 14, 2015
by derpbutt


Nobody talks about Redwood anymore. It seems as if everybody had forgotten about him completely. Most people believe it to be just another urban legend, but I assure you that Redwood is indeed real. It was in 2001 when sightings of Redwood had risen from the dead. It was all over the news and the Internet. They described him as being a tall man around 8 feet. They say he wore a long black coat and had a patch of hair hanging on his right side while his left was completely bald. Many people claimed that he had no face as it was seemingly melted, and that his mouth was sown shut. Many of the reports were determined to be false and that people had used an old urban legend for attention. There really is no telling if these people actually came across Redwood or not but I believe most of them had.

I’ve been fascinated by urban legends since I was a young boy and I know that most of them are really just urban legends but when I first heard about Redwood, I wanted to find out more about him. I found out that sightings of Redwood date way back to the mid 1800s and many photos were found that showed a tall man like shadow. Most of the sightings were being reported from Philadelphia. Many people don’t know about the origin of the tall man or creature but I know about it all too well.

The legend of Redwood started way back in the late 1800s. Words first spread about him in Philadelphia where people claimed they saw a tall man in a long black coat wandering through the city at late hours of the night. There were also a lot of strange murders happening at the time as well. Many people believe the murderer to be that tall man that’d been wandering the streets. He was finally given the name Redwood when a seventy year old man by the name of Charles Thelman noticed that the tall mysterious man shared striking resemblance to Edward. J. Thomas, a Philadelphia native who was murdered in 1828 after being ladled as an abomination for being 8 feet tall. They called the man Redwood as a reference to the Redwood trees known as the tallest trees in the world. The year at this time was 1887 so how can somebody who died in 1828 be wandering the streets in 1887 and brutally murdering people?

Many people wanted to find out more about Edward J. Thomas or Redwood. With Charles being alive at the time of Redwood’s death, he was able to tell more about him. Charles was eleven at the time so he didn’t remember much. The only thing that he remembered was that people in the city saw Redwood as being an abomination and an evil being from hell. Redwood was actually a great guy, beloved by a lot of people but there were many more who couldn’t stand to see him alive. One night, in late 1828 a group of people gathered together and brutally tortured Redwood, stitching his lips together, carving out his eyes and lighting his home on fire before leaving him to die. Redwood couldn’t get out of the house in time and he died in the fire, his body assumed to have been left in ashes. He was only 19 years old. Two years later, those who were involved in the killing of Redwood were found brutally murdered, including Charles’ father. Many people believed that Redwood had come back for revenge and from there on, the legend of Redwood started. It did eventually die off but in 1887, after strange murders had shocked the streets of Philadelphia, the legend and sightings had returned.

In London 1888, five woman were found brutally murdered, followed by 6 more through 1891. There were many sightings of Redwood being reported throughout the Whitechapel district of London and many people believed he had committed the murders but eventually a man who many people know as Jack the Ripper was arrested for the murders. So why were there so many sightings of Redwood being reported in London? And how can you explain the photo of what looks to be Redwood wandering the London streets that were all over the newspapers? Could it be that Jack the Ripper was wrongly accused and that Redwood is the actual killer? Some believed that Redwood had the ability to take over a human body and control him to commit the murders. I’m not so sure about that but I definitely wouldn’t rule it out.

After the London murders, sightings of Redwood decreased significantly throughout the next sixty-eight years until 1959 when a murder took place in a Boston home. A man and his wife were found decapitated in the basement of their home. Their daughter, eleven year old Sarah Wilson, claimed she saw an abnormally tall man wandering from behind the house and into the woods. From there, the legend of Redwood rose again from its grave, striking fear throughout the Boston area.

Throughout the years, there were thousands of unusual and unsolved murders that some people believed to be the work of Redwood. Redwood became the subject of many documentaries, showcasing true stories of people who had claimed they had seen Redwood. As I said before, I was really into urban legends since I was a young boy and something about Redwood stuck out to me. I didn’t believe in many of the urban legends but I believed in Redwood, even though I hadn’t seen him yet, but on December 13th of 2014, in Philadelphia, I had my first encounter with the real Redwood.

I don’t like telling this story, mostly because I know that nobody believes me. I’m not one of those attention seekers, I don’t care for money or fame. I just want the world to know that this thing, this man killing thing actually does exist.

I had just left my office and I drove home as usual. When I got there, I sensed that something was wrong and I searched the entire upstairs and downstairs of my home but there was no sign of my wife and daughter. I figured they must be in the basement. I screamed there names on my way down there, what I saw struck fear in my eyes and that dreadful sight, visits me every night in my sleep. They were decapitated. My wife and daughter were brutally murdered. I stood there in complete shock, puking out the terrible sight. I felt something there. Something was watching me. That’s when I saw him, clear as day. He stood tall in a long black coat, his face melted with his skin sagging down. He had no eyes, you could see right through his eye sockets. He had no nose and his left ear was melted while his right hung out of place. The only thing he had on his face was a stitched mouth…it was Redwood.

Nobody believed me when I told them what I saw. I just wish he had killed me. I really don’t understand why he didn’t. I was convicted with the murders of my wife and daughter and I now sit here in this empty room, taking pills I don’t know the name of and I will be here for the rest of my life. He still visits me, I don’t ever see him but I can always feel his presence.

I just want to warn everyone. Redwood is real and there is no telling who his next victim would be. I pray for the citizens of Philadelphia. Every night, Redwood is wandering their streets and they probably don’t know it now, but they will and when they do, it won’t be pretty. If you had ever or know someone who claimed they had seen Redwood, I’d love to hear about it. It will make me feel less insane. Redwood could be anywhere in the world. He could be in Paris, he could be in Canada or he could be standing right behind you as you read this. You may not see him at first but you will in time. He’s always watching and waiting for the right time to kill. I hope you never walk the streets alone or even stay at home alone because that’s when he’ll strike. When you’re alone, well…you’re not really alone.
Credit To – Clyde Jacobs

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August 14, 2015
by derpbutt


I saw you that day.
Walking down the street with a smile on your face,
not a care in the world.
You didn’t see me at first, but when I waved you,
you flapped your hand excitedly at my greeting.
Not a word was spoken during that first visit but nothing needed to be said.
You couldn’t stay long that day.
You Promised you would come back.
Then you were gone.

I saw you again.
You looked different somehow, like ages had passed but it was really no time at all.
Things were different this time, but we didn’t let that bother us.
We enjoyed each other’s company just like we used to.
Back when things were easier.
When we didn’t have to question what was real.
When we had no worries.
When we only knew what was right in front of us.
You seemed sad; almost as if you knew something I didn’t.
We parted ways not knowing if we would see each other other again, silently hoping
we would.

I saw you the other day.
I don’t think you saw me.
I would have waved, but I didn’t want to scare you.
I’m different now.
I still think of you often.
I wonder if you miss me like I miss you.
I think you think I forgot about us.
Eventually everyone gets forgotten, but I can’t forget you.
My invisible friend; my silent secret.
The world goes on around me, bustling and loud and hectic
yet here we stand, alone in a sea of faces.
I raise my arm to get your attention, but I stop myself mid-wave.
You’re gone.
I’m gone.
We were always so similar.
Like our souls were twins, separated by death.
So I can’t help but wonder…
were you the ghost, or am I?
Credit To – RaggDawl
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August 14, 2015
by derpbutt


All this office work was killing her.
Jane rubbed her neck as she hunched over the desk. The light of the computer screen felt like it was burning her eyes, and she bit her lower lip, which had this morning been done up with lipstick. No longer was her make-up clean and neat; it had become mussed and smeared several hours ago.
At this point in the night, the office was quiet. Jane appreciated the quiet. During the day, the clacking of keyboards and obnoxious murmurings of her coworkers kept her from her work. For several weeks now, Jane had been unable to get much done during the typical work day. She’d started staying late to catch up on all the work she had fallen behind on. At first, the idea of staying late made her a little nervous. Jane wasn’t the nervous type, but she recognized how odd and potentially unsettling it would be to stay long after anyone else remained. Now, the late nights felt normal, welcoming, and comfortable.
Jane liked being alone in the office, with all but one light off. The only one Jane left on was the small desktop lamp in the corner of her cubicle. The warm glow seemed centered on her; it made her feel important and safe.
Jane brought her hand up to her mouth, chewing absently on her fingernails and cuticles. The ideas churning in her brain had trouble finding their way down into her hands and onto the computer screen. Jane was usually very productive in the empty nights, but tonight felt different. No- it had been different for several days now.
It had been quieter, darker, and warmer. It had felt less lonely, and more like home.
Jane had never been productive at home; a work space like an office was much more her style. And the night time office was beginning to feel like home.
For a few days, Jane had been drifting off at the office in her late nights. She awoke in the mornings when her coworkers were filtering into the office, a line of quiet grey drones. She could vaguely recall falling asleep in nights past, perhaps the last five? She couldn’t quite remember. The more the office became home the more foggy and unclear her memories grew.
Home was always like that.
Home was always comfortable and dark and quiet, but forgettable. In fact, Jane had trouble recalling the last time she had returned to the small apartment that was technically her home.
Before coming to this office, Jane had remained unemployed since her graduation from the community college. During her time of being unemployed, the apartment really had been home. Jane knew she must have spent days on end indoors, rarely leaving the cheap flat.
Jane could only barely recall those months. Months? Or was it years?
Jane’s memories of that time period were like swiping through television channels much too quickly: tiny spurts of sound, color, lights but none of it coherent and none of it correlating at all. There were some repeating patterns, Jane noted. Certain images that appeared more than once or twice, certain motifs that Jane knew must have consumed her home life at the time. Fear, paranoia, and did she detect notes of hysteria?
Jane shook her head slowly, rubbing her tired, red eyes.
Five days?
She couldn’t believe she hadn’t gone home in five days. That felt insane.
Hadn’t gone home. She murmured to herself a few quiet words.
“This is home.”
Jane knew. She knew that this was no longer the office; it was her office. It was her home.
So she stood, pushing the grey office chair away from her cubicle.
Despite the darkness of the office, Jane knew where she was going. She had the goal in her mind, and her feet moved as if on their own. The only noise in her office was the clacking of her low heels on the floor.
She pushed the door of the women’s bathroom open. The lights inside were on, just as she’d left them.
This set up, Jane remarked, was much more efficient than the one she used to have in her apartment.
It used to be such a chore to lure them into the shoddy living space she had. Here, in her office, women simply walked into the restroom she had set up shop in.
Four stalls.
Jane moved to the sinks, ignoring the sobs coming from one stall. She examined her sleepy face in the mirror. Her eyes looked quite sunken in, she noticed. She was looking a little more pale too. Jane shrugged and moved to sit on the counter-top the sinks were laid in.
All the stall doors were open so Jane could easily see her victims. She knew that she was home, because the image of those people, clinging to life and trying so hard to survive- it felt like home. It felt like the apartment once felt, it felt like the dorm room used to feel, and at the root of it all- it felt like the childhood home Jane had grown up in. Jane couldn’t wait to have a daughter of her own, a child to show her legacy just as her mother had shown her, and as she suspected her grandmother had shown her.
Thoroughly calmed now, no longer troubled by fear, paranoia, or the threat of unfinished work projects, Jane felt herself slipping into sleep. The gently sobbing from the third stall let Jane have the best night’s sleep she’d had in a long, long time.
Credit To – The Letter En

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August 14, 2015
by derpbutt

EarthQuake: I Never Promised

“There was once a young Hispanic girl who went by the name of Saria Yusifana..” My uncle started, the fire cracking and popping, illuminating the night sky. He always liked to tell ghost stories, not that I really cared about them, the one he was telling he’d told a few times, but it was my little sister, Annie’s favorite. She was only seven, and could listen to the same thing over and over again.

I, of course, couldn’t care less about this stupid story. It was about some Hispanic chick that obsessed with promises or some crap like that, I mostly drowned it out, occasionally picking up a few things here and there.

I don’t know how much time had passed by the time I was brought back with the sound of Annie speaking. “How did you survive?” She squeaked, her blue eyes wide. I chuckled, she always asked that question. Even my uncle smiled.

“You see, when she was little, her father told her stories of the Chupacabras, and if she was bad…” My uncle paused, then jumped at Annie. “It would eat her!” Annie screamed and giggled at the same time. My uncle sat back down.

“Now, when I saw her, I pointed at nothing, and yelled “Chupacabra!” And boy did she leave fast, and I never saw her again. Good riddance I said.” My dad walked up, yawning.

“You two should probably head back inside, it’s pretty late.” He explained. Annie of course justified otherwise, but was overruled. We headed back inside, but then Annie tugged on my shirt. I spun around to face her big blue eyes, she had a pink envelope in her hand and handed it to me. I grabbed it, reading that the front said “Camron”. I opened the letter, trying to read the messy handwriting.

“Tea party at 7:00 tonight” I was able to make out of the letter. I glanced at my seven year old sister and smiled. “I’ll be there.” I said simply. Her eyes turned hopeful and bright.

“Do you promise?” She squealed. I grinned, rubbing her hair with my hand.

“I promise.” Annie giggled and bolted to her room. I retreated to room, flipping through the channels of my tv.

Time passed, then my phone buzzed. I put the remote down and checked my phone, I had gotten a text from my girlfriend Stacey. It said, “Wanna come over? My parents aren’t home.” I smiled, turning off the tv and leaving my room. I took my dads car since he was asleep, and my mom had the night shift at her work. I pulled out of the driveway, glancing at the cloak that said 6:47.

I arrived at Stacey’s house which took me around 13 minutes, where I was greeted by her hugging me. We went inside, talking about the usual stuff. Gossip, upcoming games, planning our next date, you know, the normal teenager crap.

I don’t know how long I was there before I left, feeling pretty tired when I pulled into driveway, the clock said around 3:02. Crap, if dad found out I was dead. I got out of the car and slowly opened the front door of the house, greeted by darkness. The only light was the moonlight glow coming from the window. Then, my heart stopped.

Annie was standing in the middle of the hallway, tears stroking down her face and falling down on her face with red puffy eyes and cheeks. “B-but you promised…” She whimpered.

“Annie…” I said, trying to reach my arm out but she pulled away and retreated to her room, crying.

I felt like a total jerk. But, why should I? It was just stupid little kid game, I was too old for it. She’d probably forget about it tomorrow.

I sighed, only to be interrupted by a shake. I hauled myself against the wall, holding on as a high-pitched shriek filled my ears. I shuttered, not knowing what was going on. I don’t know how long it was until it stopped, it went fast, maybe less than a minute. Once stopped, I peeled myself from the wall, stumbling once I tried to get my balance. It was quiet, why wasn’t my sister bursting out from her room with tears? Something wasn’t right, or I just imagined it.

Then, I felt something breathing on my neck. It was raspy and slow, I didn’t want to turn around. I wanted to run, but my curiosity got the best of me. I slowly turned around, only to be greeted by a pale face inches away from mine. I screamed, falling onto the hardwood floor. Pain jabbed in my elbow, making me yelp again. Then, I was staring up at a figure.

It looked like a girl, a few years younger than me. Despite being very pale, she looked Hispanic. She was covered in blood, from her Hispanic like clothing that was torn to shreds, her face, her legs and arms. Chunks of flesh were missing from all over her body, most of them showing bone and the one in her cheek showed her gum and teeth. Her left eye was dangling by a thread from the socket with blood coming out, the other eye was pure white with no pupil, and her right arm was bending a unnatural way with bone jabbing out. The hair was messy and black, with a deep bloody gash on the top of her head. She had a sad look on her face, frowning with no tension what so ever.

I was frozen in place, shaking, forced to listen to her raspy breathing. Despite not having pupils, I could see her starring at me with those unholy white eyes. We stared at each other, I wanted to run away. Wanted her to stop staring at me, but I felt like I was stone, stuck in place. It felt like hours had gone by, even though it had only been about two minutes before the silence of the raspy breathing was broken.

“I… Won’t…. Hurt…. You…..” The girl said, her voice was low, like someone with a cold. As she spoke, the open spot on her cheek moved, blood would ooze out and flesh shuffle. Not long after speaking, she slowly faded, until there was nothing but complete silence with me on the ground.

What had just happened? I was still frozen like stone on the floor, my face was pale and I was full of sweat. After a minute of silence had gone by, I started to laugh. I probably just imagined it, considering I hadn’t had much sleep lately. I stood up, deciding to just sleep it off.

I went to sleep that night, having a horrible nightmare about that… That thing. I was in a town, it looked classy, like maybe around the 30’s. It all looked peaceful, until the ground shook rapidly. Screams were heard everywhere and cries of children. The ground began to split, with me near it. I ran to the curve, only to be greeted by an explosion, pushing me back towards the gap. I grabbed the side of the gap, my feet dangling helplessly. I cried out for help, then froze. The girl was by my hands, her moccasins standing on one of my hands, causing a crunching noise. The girl bent over to me, smirking, but also a sadness look. She came closer to my ear, then said these words. “I… Never…. Promised…” Then pushed me off. The last thing I remember before waking up was the same shriek I had heard when I first saw her.

I was very quiet that morning. Annie had not talked to me, giving me mean glances as we ate our cereal. I didn’t talk, still having that awful screech repeating in my head. I got ready for school quickly, having the feeling of something watching me. I could see something out of the corner of my eye but when I turned to check, nothing was there.

I had math for first period, off in my own world as the teacher went on and on about stupid equations. I couldn’t get the image out of my head, no matter how much I tried. Then, something caught my eye. I looked to the dark corner of the classroom, meeting the girl, staring at me. She seemed more angry this time, not as sad as she was last night. I blinked, she was still there. I kept staring at her, the teachers shouting at me brought me back. I looked at him, his face furious.

“Y-yes Mr. Manhasset?” I stuttered. I heard people around the classroom laugh. The teacher gave me a long lecture about paying attention, then the bell rang for next class.

That was not the last time I saw her.

She was everywhere, no matter where I was, I saw her in the corner of all the rooms I was in, just, watching me. At lunch, my friends kept asking me what I was staring at, and I just shrugged it off. Though, I could not get her hatful glare out of sight.

It was the last period of the day, she was staring at me from the dark corner of the room. This time, it was different. She was starting to speak to me, just faint, raspy whispers in my ear, while she was no where close to me. Saying things such as “You made a promise. Why did you break it?” Or “How could you?” Or even the same, blood freezing words from my dream last night. “I. Never. Promised.”

I was furious by now, standing up in my chair and slamming my hands on the desk, turning to the girl in the corner. “What do you want?!” I screamed. Everyone’s face turned to me, most of them confused. The girl in the corner just had a curved smiled. The teacher faced me, furious.

“Mr. Pakins! How dare you interrupt this class with such nonsense!” She yelled. I pointed at the girl in the corner.

“It’s her! Why can’t you just see her?!” I yelled, justifying myself. The teacher glanced at the corner, then back at me.

“There’s nothing there Mr. Pakins.” She said then pointed at the door. “To Mr. Rassets office. Now.”

I did, walking out of the classroom and heading to Mr. Rassets office. I still saw her in the halls, she was everywhere.

At night, when I slept, I could still see her glowing white eye in the darkness of the corner, even some of her crumpled body. I had a different dream that night, I was in the same town of my dream, having the same old-time look. But, this time, not too far away from me, I saw a girl. She was maybe around 14 or 15, and she was beautiful. She had long black hair, brown eyes, brown skin, wearing Hispanic clothing. But then I blinked, which the ground began to shake, I heard the same screech. And the girl… Her bones started to cripple and stick out, her eyeball popped out of socket while the other one faded white. Blood dripped down the body like a waterfall, chunks of flesh ripping out of the girls skin. It was a horrible sight to see, then within seconds, I blinked, and the girl was just inches away from my face, screaming with pain. “Help me!” She shrieked in a raspy voice, full of pain and sorrow.

I woke up after that, shaking. The girl was not in my room, yet I could still feel her breathing on me. I watched the ceiling fan spin, thinking of what I had just seen. I sighed, hearing my dad call for breakfast. I got up, Annie was still ignoring me, which I didn’t really care about at the time. I decided I was going to talk to my uncle in the afternoon, I think this was her. The one he called EarthQuake.

After school, I walked to my uncles house, which was only about a block away from my house. Once in, he was confused why I was there until I told him about the girl following me. He immediately shut the door and locked it, dragging me into the living room.

“She’s following you?” He asked, keeping his voice low. I nodded.

“It’s been about two days now, and she’s everywhere I’m at. She’s not here at the moment… But I had this weird dream of her last night…” I explained. My uncle stared at me, deep in thought until he finally spoke.

“The one with the Hispanic girl?” He asked. I nodded. He then sighed, getting ready to talk.

“That girl you saw, was Saria Yusifana, or EarthQuake as we call her…” My uncle started. He was quiet before he started speaking again. “I don’t know that much, just from stories and what I’ve guess from the dreams. All I know that is that there’s a psychotic revengeful girl out there who died in the 1930’s from falling inside of a earthquake gap.”

“But, in the dream, why did she say ‘Help me’?”

My uncle almost went pale. “I don’t even know. But, that doesn’t mean you have much time left.” He said, standing up and starting to push me out the door.

After I left, the rest of the day I didn’t see her, until I fell asleep. I was in that same city block, except it wasn’t shaking. People were scurrying around, gas pipes leaked everywhere, sending smoke into the skies, buildings burning. But, the earthquake gap was still there. I saw a Hispanic woman, crying by the side of the gap. It seemed like all I could hear clearly, all the other noises were just blurry. Out of curiosity, I slowly peaked over the gap, only to see at the bottom of the pit, was the young Hispanic girl, her bones places awkwardly and surrounded by a pool of blood. Before I woke up, I heard the words “You lied.” In a clear, yet raspy voice.

That morning, my girlfriend broke up with me, saying I was going mad. I tried to explain everything to her, but she just laughed in my face and walked away. The rest of the day was still hell.

I never got away from the girls stare. It seemed a lot more angry, as if she were ready to tear my head off. I felt very uncomfortable.

My sister still hadn’t forgiven me, ignoring me and not even looking at me. I didn’t actually really care at this point, I had the psycho chick to worry about. I could feel her breathing on my neck as I slept, her cold, dark stare right on me all night. I hadn’t slept that night at all. Just, hearing the uneven, raspy breaths was enough.

I think I was starting to go mad. How was no one else seeing her! She was clearly there in the corner, whispering devilish things into my ear. She was everywhere I went, from one room to the next, looking more angry as time went by. I had fallen asleep by accident in science, which was my worst mistake.

I dreamed of being violently ripped apart, limb by limb, pulled right out of socket. My flesh pulling, snapping and blood flinging everywhere, disappearing into the darkness. Of course I screamed and yelled, cried out for help and for the unknown force to stop. I woke up short after, the teacher was right by my desk and everyone was staring at me, some looking concerned, some just laughing. The teacher decided to send me to the consular.

I decided to tell at least someone about the nightmares I’ve been having, but not about the girl. I didn’t want someone to think I was insane. Maybe I was, who knows?

She seemed disturbed about these nightmares, and called my parents, advising I should probably get some sleeping pills, and maybe lay back on the horror movies. I wanted to object, but it might help in some way. My parents decided to pick me up early from school, and we drove by the pharmacy to grab some pills to help me with sleep.

I took them before I went to bed, hoping they would help. It seemed calming, and I felt confident about not having nightmares. But, when I fell asleep, I found myself in a dark room, I couldn’t see walls or anything, just, darkness. I could hear crying, like a child’s crying. Plus even faint whispers, saying things I could barley make out. The ones I could, said things such as “Why did you let me fall?” Or even “It’s all your fault.” Even one that made me ice cold. “You will suffer.”

I could hear the sound of blood falling onto the floor, the crying became louder and louder as I walked. It echoed through the seemingly endless darkness, until I came upon a girl. The girl.

She was hugging her knees in the corner, I could see a red liquid dripping from her skin. Her crying suddenly stopped, and she looked up. I was met with a rotten, white eyed, bloody face staring at me. Before I knew what happened, she smiled at me and laughed. “I like promises.” She started. I seemed frozen into place. Then, she frowned. “Why did you break your?”

I woke up with a bolt, inhaling every scrap of air I could get. I saw the sleeping pills by my nightstand and threw it to the ground. Those wouldn’t work, I was pretty sure nothing would. I looked to the corner of my room, she was there. She usually wasn’t in my room, especially when I first wake up. I went on the day as usual, in the class I screamed in everybody stared at me, as if I were some supernatural life form. I’m not a freak. I’m not mad! I’m not making this up!

At dinner, I could tell my parents were concerned about me, considering they kept glancing at me. But Annie couldn’t care less about me. This was her fault! If she wouldn’t had invited me to her stupid little kid thing, this crazy girl wouldn’t be following me!

At night, I could barley sleep. My parents had made me take the pills, ignoring my justification. I did fall asleep, it all seemed normal though, except I was in that same black room. I couldn’t move, I was frozen in place as if something were holding me down.

I blinked, and the girl was screaming in my face, spit and chunks of flesh splattering onto my face. Her eye that was dangling out touched my cheek, her white eye was full of fury. “My turn!” She yelled into my face before I woke up. It was around 3 AM, and the girl was right beside my bed. No, not in the corner, by my bed. And she wasn’t mad, she looked completely pissed. Then, her face turned into a curved smile.

“I… Never… Promised…” She said. Before I could react, she reached her hand into my mouth, and grabbed my tongue. With a stabbing sensation of pain, she yanked out my tongue, blood immediately started to flow through my mouth. I screamed, despite my tongue being gone. She held the tongue to her face, and grinned.

“You. Will. Suffer.” She said, flinging the tongue to the wall. I sprigged up, running to the door as fast as I could but a force pulled me back, pressing me against the wall. I couldn’t cry for help, my parents weren’t home and I didn’t want Annie to get hurt. The girl stared at me, despite being apparently a ghost, she walked towards me and grabbed my arm, grinned at me while I pleaded. I knew what was going to happen.

She yanked off my arm, I heard the sound of the bone snapping and twisting, flesh tangling around the veins popping. I screeched, it almost sounded funny without my tongue. She dropped my arm to the ground, pain flew throughout my body by this point, blood flew out of my arm like a river.

Next thing I didn’t predict. She reached towards my face, and wrapped her finger around my eyeball. I looked at her, trying to plead, until she pulled it, yanking the eye from its socket. Blood dripped down my face, but it wasn’t the most painful.

I felt like I was only clinging onto life, the world was already turning black. I didn’t see this coming. She grabbed my hair, yanking it and pulling a patch of hair off. I screamed, the pain was unbearable. She grabbed my other arm, but instead of yanking it clean off, she slowly twisted it, the bone snapping and crunching. Pain slowly went to by brain, I flinched at every snap or bone. Then, it completely twisted off, releasing pressure and pain jolted through my veins.

She looked at me one last time, coming close to my ear, noticing I was almost gone. But, the door creaked opened, and I heard my sisters pitiful voice as she peaked in. I was at tears, my sister was seeing my like this, I didn’t want her to get hurt. She was quiet, but her eyes were wide. She didn’t scream, I wondered why. The girl still took no notice and whispered unholy words.

“You didn’t keep your promise… That’s a bad thing.” She said, and backed up to face me. I cried, tears stroking down my face. Then, she tilted her head to the side, and there was a loud snap. White light appeared after a quick bolt of pain to my neck.


“Camron?” Annie called out, seeing her brother bloody body beaten gruesomely. She could smell a funny liquid, the room was full of it. The girl turned around to face Annie, a smile on her face. Annie flinched at the girls face at first, then noticed she was walking towards her. She bent down on her knees to match the little girls face. She said words that Annie would never forget.

“Don’t make a promise if your just going to break it…”

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August 14, 2015
by derpbutt
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Liberty Memorial Academy

Now, you’ve just read the title to this, and you are most likely thinking “Fantastic. Another one of those ‘academy mystery’ things right? Wrong.

When I was eleven, I was recruited to go to Liberty Memorial Academy. This place was a military school in the middle of fucking nowhere. Now, I have to tell you that this wasn’t your average school for bad kids. Hell, I can assure you, before going to that school everyone there had perfect records, gifted students even. Anyway, it was really old and really big. The original school itself had been a monument to honor 19 civil war soldiers who had died. Every year, ten people from schools all over the country were picked to join. You had to display certain traits, to be chosen. Even after months of digging, I still haven’t found out just what those traits were.

At the age of thirteen, I was promoted to the position of student corporal. This was an honor which gave you privileges other students didn’t have, like leaving the school grounds, dyeing your hair, wearing a nicer uniform. It was great, and I fun with it, until I was called upon. One rainy day in the middle of April, we were out running drills when I was told to run into the mess hall and grab a sword that had been left in there by a higher-ranking officer. I did, but as soon as I ran in, I felt something was very, very wrong. The lights were dim, and the curtains were drawn. I looked around for the sword, not moving from directly in front of the door. I tried to rationalize the situation and willed myself to step further in the large room. I located the sword, lying on a rolled-up wrestling mat near to the back door. I turned on a whim, only to see the lights come on in the kitchen area, flicker, and stay on only long enough for me to view the silhouette of a man, dressed in black, but not any type of uniform. At this point, I was shaking, and I sprinted out the back, barely grabbing the sword. A friend of mine, another commander, saw me in utter terror and asked me if I was okay. I told her I wasn’t, but I knew how crazy I would sound, so I dropped the issue.

Things after this seemed to die down, only long enough for me to feel safe going places alone again. This time it was somewhere around two in the morning, and I had gone out to the roof with a few friends, just to hang out, as tomorrow was the day Night School would commence. Night School was when we would train and run drills all day, and do classes at night, sleeping when it was absolutely necessary. Anyway, we were up there, goofing off and being teenage idiots, when I heard a sound that haunts me to this day. It was a sort of creaking, groaning noise, almost as if someone was opening a huge ass old door and hacking at it with an ax. One of the girls screamed, and the two others held their hands over her mouth. I was the only one who had thought to bring any sort of weapon, but even then it was only my dagger. I motioned for them to move, and hide behind one of the skylights. The sound had come from the access door, and I knew we were pretty fucked. I walked stealthily towards it, barely breathing. Suddenly, I was violently pushed aside, and thrown across the roof. I landed hard, my head slamming into the concrete. My vision was swimming, my hands didn’t do what I wanted them to. According to Onyx, the girl who screamed, the only reason I’m not dead is because I hit the skylight, and was stopped from rolling off the roof. Another of the girls up there, Ellie, wasn’t as fortunate. The thing, whatever it was, grabbed her as she tried to shield Onyx and Lydia, and threw her off the roof. She lived, but was in ICU for an entire month. At the time Ellie was thrown, Onyx grabbed my dagger, and stabbed the darkening shape. There was a demonic scream, a gust of wind, and it was gone. Later, I found that this is because my dagger was pure iron, and that will do wonders to angry spirits.

After this event occurred, Onyx, Lydia, and I were called into the headmasters office. Assuming he wanted an explanation, I spoke. “Monsieur, what happened on the roof tonight-” he cut me off.
“I do not want an explanation. Let me guess. A dark shape, that of a man, attacked you with intentions to kill?” I was surprised at this, wondering how and why and what the hell was going on here.
“Yes, M.”
“You are never to speak of what I am about to tell you girls. If you do, you will be charged with insanity and attempted murder.” At this point, I was like ‘I want answers but do I really want to deal with this’, so I nodded.
“As you know, this institution was built in memorial to nineteen soldiers who lost their lives, fighting for the North in the civil war. What you may not know, is that there was a twentieth soldier who was supposed to be recognized. His name was Arthur Press. He was a valiant soldier who did more than his part in the war. But he was not recognized because of how he died. There was a fight that broke out between some of the soldiers in Arthur’s company. He attempted to step in, but was pushed out of the way. He stepped in once again, before on of the more irate soldiers knocked him out. Believing him dead and realizing the problem they had on their hands, they drug him out to the woods, and needless to say, he was dishonored.”

I know you’d like me to tell you I got out of that school, that things no longer went bad, but I’m running out of room and time. Something is making that same creaking-ax noise outside my door, my roommate won’t wake up, and I’m pretty sure my door won’t hold much longer, so thank you, and goodnight. And please, please, if you ever find yourself being told there is a school in the middle of nowhere that no-one you know has heard of, turn it down. Break your cell, leave your house, just stay the hell away, you don’t have to die.
Credit To – A friend, telling you to never join Liberty Memorial Academy

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August 14, 2015
by derpbutt

Cinema 13

I used to be an urban explorer. Someone who likes to explore abandoned places.

That stopped two years ago.

It all involved the abandoned Palace Multiplex on Lafayette Street.

This was a huge state-of-the-art theatre complex built in 2006. Twenty-one screens on two floors. It had digital projectors. A fairly new technology at the time.

The first floor housed the lobby, ticket area, a full-service restaurant, and a snack bar. There were also ten auditoriums on this floor, plus two sets of washrooms.

The second floor had eleven auditoriums with a snack bar, and two sets of washrooms.

You can imagine how big this place was.

Then, in 2012, only six years after opening, the place shut down. No warning, nothing. People went one night for a good night at the movies, only to find the place shuttered.

An interesting note about this complex. The builders were obviously not superstitious, because they had a Cinema 13.

However, they had problems getting people into it. Nobody wanted to watch a film in Cinema 13.

Management had a “cure” for the problem. They tried to scratch out or remove the “1″ and the “3″ from after the word “Cinema” on all the signs that referenced it. What they ended up with was, “Cinema 13″

Anyway, about two years ago, I wanted to explore this place so badly, since it had been abandoned for over a year.

It was on Lafayette Street just two blocks south of Wilmington Avenue. It was the only commercial building on that street, since all the others were warehouses and light industry.

It took the ‘18 Lafayette’ bus to the location.

It was just past 10 PM, and that was the last bus. Since the theatres closed, there was no more need for late-night bus service. I will figure out how to get home later.

I walked across the parking area, surprised that the building still had electricity. The parking area, and parts of the building, were still brightly illuminated.

There was graffiti all over the outside, and the main entrance doors were smashed.

That is a good thing. It will be easy to get in.

Upon entering the lobby and ticket area, the first thing I noticed was how immaculate the place was inside. It was so tidy. It looked like it was ready to re-open at any time.

There were still candies and chocolates in the display cases at the snack bar. I was surprised that the teenagers had not stolen it.

I looked up at the boards that display what films were showing. Twenty-one boards, for twenty-one theatres, including Cinema 13 .

They were still sort-of working. I mean, they were on, but the displays were erratic. Mostly displaying symbols and parts of letters and numbers.

One display board stood out, however.

It was the one for Cinema 13. It stood out because the time for the next show was an actual time, and not gibberish. As a matter-of-fact, the time displayed was 10:45, but the title panel above just displayed something in another language, “Lassen Sie en Dämon”.

I looked at my watch, and it was 10:36.

Interesting. This “movie” was starting in nine minutes.


The building did have an odd layout, though. To get to the second floor, you had to walk to the end of the first floor. That meant passing all of the ten auditoriums on that floor. I am not really sure of the reason for that.

That was fine, as I wanted to explore anyway. However, trying all the doors to all the cinemas, I found that they were all locked.

I found my way to the stairs, and headed up to the second floor, and to the other eleven cinemas.

I had found that these auditoriums were also locked.

When I was ready to pack it in, and turn around to go home, I noticed something ahead.

One of the auditorium doors was ajar.

I walked up to it, and noticed the sign above the door right away. It was Cinema 13.

Interesting how this was the only auditorium left open, and that it was the only one that had a start time. Which was in two minutes.

I thought the whole thing was kind of silly, but curiosity got to me. I wanted to see what was happening in that auditorium.

I slowly pulled the door all the way open, and walked in.

As I made my way up the ramp, I did not notice anything at all unusual about it. It looked just like your standard movie theatre.

As expected, there was no one else there, so I took the best seat. Right in the middle of the theatre.

After a couple of minutes, and right on time, the lights dimmed, and the screen came alive.

At first, nothing unusual. Some left-over ads and trailers from 2012. Probably accidentally left in the projector.

Then a “Feature Presentation” stinger came on.

After that, the screen went dark for what seemed a rather long time.

Then, suddenly, a picture came on.

It was…me…sitting there in the middle of the empty theatre. As if a camera was pointed directly at me.

Every move I made, was mimicked on the screen, as if I was looking into a giant mirror.

Then, I heard the door to the theatre open.

Too afraid to look at who was coming up the ramp, I stared directly at the screen.

What I saw made me jump half-way to the ceiling.

Making its way into the auditorium, was a large, dark creature, with glowing red eyes.

It was so dark, I could not make out its features. Except for those eyes. Those horrible red eyes.

The creature turned the corner, and started up the stairs, as if looking for a seat.

I had to look.

There was nothing there.

I turned my attention back to the “movie”, and there it was.

It walked slowly, and seated itself, in the seat right directly behind me.

Terrified to look, but I just had to.

Sure enough. There was nothing.

Then, I heard the door creak open again, and two more of there “things” entered.

They also found seats in the theatre.

They kept coming, and sitting throughout the once empty theatre.

Until, I was surrounded by them.

The theatre was now full of them, but only in the “movie”. When I looked around, I was alone.

Then I heard an awful scream,

lLoud. A woman. It was coming from all around me.

It was coming from the theatre’s sound system, Every speaker, was this horrible scream.

I had just about enough of this.

I took off out of that place as fast as I could.

I headed up the street to Wilmington Avenue.

There was an all-night bus I could catch that would get me…away from there.

After just a few minutes, the bus came, but it stoped about a half-block away from the stop.

The driver got out to get a coffee at the 24-hour coffee shop.

I figured I would walk over to meet the bus.

He had left the door open, so I just boarded. I had a pass, and figured that if he wanted to see it, he would ask.

The bus was empty, so I made my way to the back.

Relieved that I was finally getting away from there, I picked up a newspaper someone had left on the seat next to me.

Engulfed in an interesting article, I did not notice the driver re-enter the bus, but I did notice it start to move.

After about twenty minutes, we came to a stop that was close to my house.

I rang the bell, to indicate a stop.

The bus driver passed the stop.

I was a bit annoyed, so I started to walk to the front of the bus to ask the driver why he didn’t stop.

On my way, I glanced up at the driver’s mirror, and what I saw horrified me.

It was the reflection of a dark creature, with glowing red eyes.

I did make it home, otherwise I would not be telling you this now.

However, ever since that night, I have been seeing those creatures everywhere.
Credit To – Paul B.

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August 14, 2015
by derpbutt
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Another Lonely Night

Arizona isn’t a place where you would want to live. You would only go there if your family got new jobs there or if you couldn’t afford to live anywhere else. Ali Molina is an example of that. My father died in a car accident when I was six, and my mother has been depressed ever since. She went through years of therapy but it was all in vain. She would never be the same. Meanwhile my older cousin Felix decided to take me in. He just flunked out of college, but he was determined to get me all the support I needed.
My name is Todd by the way. Todd Burns. I have long, jet-black hair and green eyes. I play guitar from time to time but prefer reading. I was born in Vermont, but I don’t remember anything about it. My family and I only lived there for about three months anyway. I spent most of my life in Austin, Texas before the accident. And just two months ago my cousin and I moved to Ali Molina. Now, Ali Molina isn’t exactly popular. There are only 71 people (including ourselves) living here and most of the people live away from each other.
Ali Molina is unincorporated, so we have to fend for ourselves. Ali Molina is such a small town that it doesn’t even have a Wikipedia page. I know that anyone can edit it, but there’s a reason there isn’t one. And that’s because there’s nothing in Ali Molina. Nothing but run-down houses and desert mountains. My cousin and I live three miles away from our closest neighbor. But even so, he doesn’t like us. We call him Piss Poor Pete. That’s because he lives in a miserable shack and drank his own urine in place of water.
That was the only time we ever visited him. So I guess he doesn’t matter in our lives. Felix, my cousin, has a job as short order cook. Our car is a run-down Bentley that my aunt gave to him when he was 18. I’m 16 at the time and I sure don’t want it two years from now. So you may be wondering how the two of us get by without any other people around. Well my cousin has to take a 45 minute drive to the diner every day except for Sundays. With his job he’s pretty busy, so he can’t take me to school. The nearest school is 30 miles away and it seems like a mess from the internet.
I simply use a homeschooling website that only costs ten dollars a month. Most of the things on there are easy, so I just breeze through them and go on my way. I learn a lot more from all the books I have and videos on the internet than that website. Anyway, you’re probably wondering by now about why I’m talking about all of this. It’s not because I feel like getting it out or anything. It’s because of what happened that night. It was all fairly normal until that night. Another lonely night.
I didn’t have any friends other than my cousin. In fact, he was the only other person I had talked to for two straight months. That may not seem like a lot of time but it is in Ali Molina. Sure I played MMORPGS with other people on the internet, but that wasn’t much. I was lonely and depressed living in a desolate world with only books and a computer to pass the time. The only people I could rely on were my loser cousin and a faraway lunatic. In other words I was screwed.
I was so desperate for something to happen that I began praying. Ali Molina is a very sacred land by the way. It’s history is largely unknown, but the Native Americans believed it to be the home of some powerful spirit of sorts. When I first heard about this I was determined to finding out what it was and why it was so important to the natives. So I researched day and night but there was nothing. Not a trace of this mysterious entity. Nothing, I mean, nothing at all. And so I decided to research praying and native religion instead. I was so desperate that I figured using the ancient methods may just work.
And so I began to chant. I managed to learn bits and pieces of the ancient native language, just enough to help me with my mission. I chanted constantly with no one to hear it. I could scream to the top of my lungs with chanting. Surprisingly the chanting worked. I didn’t attract any spiritual figure but it made me feel different. I felt a strange satisfaction from the chanting. A freedom if you will. And this freedom was what allowed me to continue my search for the mystery messiah.
A week had passed and that night had come. My cousin Felix was leaving for work as usual when he told me something that changed my life. “Hey Todd, you haven’t been chanting at all have you?” How could he know when he was gone the entire time? I hid my surprise and asked him what gave him that idea. “Well, if anything happens, just play this message I sent you on your phone alright?” I simply nodded. The look he gave me before leaving was a look of sorrow and regret somewhat. It confused me at the time, but now I know. Now I know.
A little while later he gave me a call and told me that he would be a little late coming home. I told him that it was alright and I would just cook something for myself. He told me to make sure no one got into the house. That was the first sign of danger. Felix never said anything like that. There weren’t any people so there wouldn’t be any robbers, right? I told him that I understood and he hung up. I sat down on my bed and noticed that I was shaking. Felix wasn’t in trouble was he?
He had hung up so quickly that I couldn’t ask what was wrong. So instead I had that thought lingering in my mind. Haunting me. And then it happened. I was working on cracking the native mystery when I heard a loud crash. It was coming from the back of the house. I got up and crawled into the hallway. As I walked the lights began to dimmer. They kept blinking. On and off, on and off. Over and over again. And the lights burst and I was in complete darkness. Complete darkness that gave me the chills.
I looked around and tried to adjust my eyes. I pushed my long hair out of my eyes and my night vision kicked in. There were hard footsteps coming from the kitchen. My house was tiny, so it wouldn’t be difficult to find the intruder. I grabbed a baseball bat and snuck into the kitchen. I was hiding behind a counter, just on the other side was the intruder. I was nervous. My heart was pounding furiously, sweat was beading from my skin, chills ran down my spine. I knew that I had to act there and now. And so I leapt up and struck the intruder with the bat.
And then it happened. There was a sickening snap and I fell back in pain. My right arm was burning as though it had been stuck in lava. My ribs were numb and I started to scream with pure pain. The bat was on the floor beside me. It had shattered and the wood was completely splintered. It was then when I noticed the intruder. He was standing directly in front of me. He is nearly impossible to describe. If I were to attempt it, I feel as though the effect would be lessened no matter what. I guess I’ll leave it up to you to imagine him. But don’t imagine an ordinary man. No, imagine a demon. Something that gouges out eyes, something that would stab a thousand needles into your skin just for fun. Just imagine the epitome of all evil.
It looked at me with a pleased and curious expression. It was just as odd as the creature. It suited the beast. The pain was drifting away and I realized I had to take action. I had very little time to think, so I resorted to running. I leapt up once more and darted out the back door. I thrust my legs forward with each step. I could have beaten the Olympics with the speed I was going.
All I wanted was for something to happen. I sat through two straight months of staring at the walls. Counting all of the bathroom tiles. Listening to the deafening silence of this purgatory. I had had enough and needed something, anything to occur. And let me say this my friends. Be careful what you wish for. Thoughts raced through my head, faster than I was running. I knew that this creature was the mystery messiah that the natives found sacred. I had summoned him with the chanting of course. But I didn’t know anything else.
` This demon was after me and I had to get help. But Felix was missing and the only other person that came to mind was Piss Poor Pete. He was insane but also my only chance at survival. As soon as I came to this conclusion I noticed his shack in viewing distance. It was pretty far away, but at least I could see it. And that was when my legs gave out. Something had kicked me from behind.
The force of the kick sent me flying down the hill and onto all the rocks and shrubs. My skin was scraped and torn open in parts. Blood trickled, then poured from my many wounds. It was too much to take in at once. But then I turned around and saw the person responsible. It was Piss Poor Pete to my surprise. “What are you doing here city boy”, he demanded in a heavy southern accent. He had three teeth missing but that wasn’t relevant. I saw the creature coming down the hill and only pointed.
My hand quivered and my voice was feeble but I managed to give a warning. “He’s… coming…. To kill you…” My arm fell from exhaustion and I could only watch now. Pete turned around just in time to see the beast. He aimed his shotgun and fired. The bullet shattered the creatures left ribs and it howled in pain. My insides erupted with pain. Blood squirted from my ears and onto the hard dirt and rocks around me. Pete covered his, but blood trickled down his arms.
“Come on over here and fight me like a true man you filthy demon”, he cried as he took aim once more. It was all in vain. The creature then lunged forward and inserted his daggered nails into Pete’s chest. They stuck all the way through as Peter moaned. One swipe later and Pete’s head fell next to mine. A look of extreme pain and horror forever etched onto his face. My wounds worsened with every beat of my heart. It was like a time bomb set to explode at any given time.
They say in life-threatening situations that the human mind boosts its own intelligence no matter what. I can say that that statement is one-hundred percent true. I realized that I had brought the demon here via chanting. In my desperation I decided that in order to get rid of it, I would have to play the chanting in reverse. Then Felix’s words hit me. I pulled out my phone and managed to hit play recent messages before everything turned fuzzy. The last thing I heard was the reversed chanting. It was eerie and comforting all at once. It was confusing.
The last thing I saw before blacking out was the beast bursting with blood. Black blood splattered everywhere and onto me. It was warm and pulsating. Its feelings consumed me and I passed out on the spot.
I woke up in the hospital two days later. The doctors found my mother and we decided to move back to Vermont together. She had gotten a whole lot better from her therapy. She was ready to start a new life. We attended Pete’s funeral. It was depressing; we were the only ones there. Peter was a rather antisocial man who lived in that miserable shack for most of his life. Everything was better since then except for one thing. It was about Felix. When the police examined the crime scene, they saw a body in front of where I was. It was covered in black blood. It was my older cousin Felix. He was dead with a look of regret and sorrow frozen on his face forever.

Credit To – Regan J. Divar

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