CRAPPYPASTA

For those pastas that are smelling less than fresh…


October 26, 2014
by derpbutt
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Bahaloth

The city is claustrophobic, you feel as if you could be crushed at any moment, ground into the dirt. A thousand faces pass by each day, becoming a blur. Everyday you are pushed into tiny train cars. Feeling as if your bones could break, the air squeezed from your chest. The masses push you from behind expelling you into the station. Moving as herd you push through the ticket gate where another group flows into yours. Mindlessly you make your way to work. The cycle repeats, day in and day out, until numbness settles in.
These are the right conditions for one such as the Bahaloth to thrive. It lurks in the shadows, a darker ichor against the blackness. Many people have seen it before, but have dismissed it. Nothing more than a flutter of movement out of the corner of their eye. Yet, there is a small part of your brain that knows what it is. The part that remembers to fear the dark.
On this night a man and a woman walk hand in hand into a train car, coming home from a night of drinking. They sway back and forth as the train starts to move. They walk unsteadily trying to find an empty pair of seats. They sit down next to each other, the woman laying her head down on the man’s shoulder. Skeletal trees, empty streets, and deserted office buildings stream by. The train slows to a stop at Broad Street Station.
The man and the woman get off at their station, it is mostly empty at this time of night. A few people wandering home after catching a late train. All is quiet except for the clicking of the woman’s heels and the trail of conversation following after the couple. The man suddenly pulls the woman in for a kiss, running his fingers down the sides of her tight black dress.
The woman steps back pushing the man away gently. She fishes around in her purse to look for a tissue.
“You look cute with my lipstick on. ” She smiles while wiping the lipstick off his lips.
The man smiles back. Allowing her to wipe off the lipstick but thinking of kissing her again. The woman looks down, putting the tissue into her purse, a small smile traces across her lips. They’d been dating for awhile and she had come to rely on him. No matter the situation, he would be able to help her. The woman turns back to the man returning his smile.
Her eyes widen suddenly, a look of confusion crosses them. A numbness has settled into her toes that seems to be spreading up her feet. She looks down at them trying to figure out what is causing it.
“ I can’t feel my toes. I think something is wrong.” The woman sounds troubled, unsure of what’s happening to her.
“You sure it isn’t just your shoes? Those heels are pretty high.” The man cringes from the woman’s expression. “ Of course they do look great on you.” He tries to smile to make light of it.
“I can’t move my feet” The numbing sensation continues to spread up her legs, freezing them in place. The woman starts to breathe faster and expression of panic starts to claw its way across her face.
“Honey calm down, it’s probably nothing.” The man is confused, his girlfriend wasn’t the sort to freak out so easily.
“It’s not nothing! It feels like something is climbing up my leg. Get it off! Get it off!'” The woman starts to dissolve into hysterics as the creature continues inching towards her torso. Crying she tries to fight as her body continues to become paralyzed. Her mind starts to crack, splintered by spiderwebs of fear.
“Honey, what’s the matter? There is nothing there.” The man looks at her feeling helpless. How could he save her from something he couldn’t see?
“Oh god, oh god. It’s moving towards my chest. Help me!” Tears stream down the woman’s face. Shock takes hold of the woman suddenly choking off her words. Her eyes roll back to whites as she starts to make choking noises.
“Honey what’s happening to you? I’m calling an ambulance!” The man pulls out his phone, it nearly slips out of his grasp. Hastily he dials the number.
“911 what is the nature of your emergency.”
“It’s my girlfriend. You have to send help now!”
“Sir, could you tell me exactly what is happening?” The operators detached voice rings out.
“I don’t know! She can’t feel her legs! She said it’s spreading!” The man’s panic continues to increase as he looks over to his girlfriend. Now barely moving. “Just send someone now!” The man screams into the phone.
“I know it’s difficult, but I need you to calm down sir. What is the location of your emergency?”
“We are a few blocks away from Broad Street station.” The man starts pacing back and forth pressing the phone to his ear. He stares over at his girlfriend not knowing what to do.
“The police and the ambulance are on the way to help you.”
The man lowers the phone and walks over to his girlfriend. Her face looks frozen in a state of fear, eyes still rolling in the back of her skull. Something seems wrong, very wrong. He pulls her towards him, hoping to offer whatever comfort he can. His arms wrap around her, feeling how cold she is. He recoils from her chill, clammy flesh jumping backwards in surprise. Without his support the woman falls towards the ground, crashing with a sickening thud.
The man tries to walk back towards her when he catches a glimpse of his shadow. Something about it seems strange, as if it was looking back at him. He can’t explain it but a trickle of fear runs down his spine. He tries to move further away from it, but finds himself rooted in place. A feeling of intense cold starts to creep up his legs. The man flails trying to fight off whatever is attacking him. His phone flies from his hand out of reach because of his thrashing.
Another tentacle of shadow shoots from the main mass that pools under the woman. It wraps around the man, climbing up his torso towards his screaming mouth. A torrent of darkness flows into the man’s body, stretching his jaws wide, nearly dislocating them. The man falls to his knees, a puppet with his strings cut. His hands twitch as he tries to prevent the creature from violating him further. Despite the man’s efforts the Bahaloth slithers towards the man’s feet permeating every cell.
The creature has taken control of the couple forcing them into cages in the back of their skulls. The man beats against his bars howling with frustration; his wails echo through his mind unheard. Desperately he tries to break out to free his lover. A small part of him know that is futile. That small reptilian part of his brain that knows he is safer behind the bars.
The woman can only sob silently, shock having made her retreat to the back of her mind. She seeks sanctuary from what has taken over her body. Thoughts of her boyfriend try to rise to the surface. The woman shoves them down. She can’t let herself think about what might be happening to him. She doesn’t want to know whether he has shared her fate.
The bodies of the couple start to move jerkily, limbs twitching. Slowly they rise to their feet, arms dangling, heads suddenly yanked up, a blank expression in their eyes. They are like marionettes pulled on strings by an unskilled master. The man and woman disappear into the darkness, left legs dragging behind. The couple the first among many, for the Bahaloth has learned a new skill. One that may be the end of us all.

Credit To – Ellie Aisles

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October 26, 2014
by derpbutt
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The Storm

I noticed something strange the other day. My house seems to be getting smaller. I am sure everyone feels this way at some point. When you are cooped up in such a small space day after day, your place just starts to seem too small. I feel like this storm has raged on for years. Of course it hasn’t, it must be only a few days or a week, but I have lost track of time while staring out at the vast snowy whiteness from my small bedroom window.

I have considered venturing out into the snow, but there is nothing in sight: just white. My small car could never make it in such high snow, I would have to walk. I never measured it but it must be many miles to the next house.

Sometimes my neighbor comes to visit me and brings me soup or plays board games with me; I guess he had been more prepared for the storm than I. He is able to leave his house, unlike me, but he seems just as bored and cooped up as I am. If only this storm would pass! I had just moved to this area a few years ago, and I do not recall a storm that had been as bad as this before. I will be more prepared next time. I do not even own a heavy coat; all I have is my thin pajama pants and the blankets from my bed to keep me warm on this night.

…but this house, it certainly feels smaller.

I regret painting the walls white now, it reminds me too much of the white snow outside. I always thought white makes rooms look larger, but somehow I am beginning to feel like the paint itself is sucking the air out of the room, making the walls close in on me. Maybe I am just a bit claustrophobic; I have heard that mild cases of claustrophobia can be caused from being cooped up in one place for too long.

…I just know something is wrong with this house. It is definitely smaller. I think tomorrow, after my neighbor Carl comes over for dinner, I will measure it. No, I think I need to measure it now. I feel like as I sit here writing this down, the room is very slowly starting to shrink! I think I just saw it move!

…I could not find my tape measure anywhere. This house is starting to play tricks on me. I know I left it in my desk drawer, but when I went to look for it, it was nowhere in sight!

Now that I think about it, a lot of things have seemed to have gone missing lately. Maybe as the house shrinks, it will eat anything in its path! No, that is silly. It is just cabin fever; I just need to get some fresh air. I will open up a window. That will surely help.

…The window was frozen shut. At first I started to think that the house doesn’t want me to leave, that it was trying to block off any escape routes, so I went to the door. I opened it just a crack and peered out into the snow. That was all I needed. I was being very silly; the door had opened so the house could not be trying to trap me. It was surely just the ice stuck to the window that kept it from opening.

I decided to get some sleep, maybe if I rest my head I will be able to think more clearly. Carl is coming over tomorrow, and that will help me to feel less alone. He probably feels the same as me because of this dreadful snow, but at least he can leave his house. Maybe I will ask him to take me for a drive, maybe we can have dinner at his house instead.

…Last night I heard moaning coming from the walls. I now certainly think that this place is haunted. I don’t know how I never noticed it before, maybe the storm brought the ghosts with them! I decided I would write my name near the corner of the wall, and if it was gone in the morning, I would know for sure that the walls were shrinking. And guess what! It was gone! I am not crazy after all!

I decided last night that I would hold out here until Carl arrives and I would have him take me with him, never to return to this dreadful place. I do not feel like I am in immediate danger since the walls only shrink by one or two inches a day. It would take quite a while to crush me to death at that rate. I will just sit and wait until he gets here.

…I hear something. I am going to press my ear to the walls and maybe I can detect where the creatures are that are eating the space in my home.

…I can hear them shuffling around in there. It is louder than normal; I think they are going to try to eat at the rest of the house before I can make my escape. I think I even heard one of them say my name. I tried the door, but of course it was frozen shut now. They know I plan to leave. I wonder if these creatures can control the weather. I am going to look for my hammer. I will try to break through the wall to find them. I know they will likely hide in another wall if I break through this one, but at least the hole will give me more space. They will have more to eat at before they could get to me!

…Of course my hammer is gone. What else could I expect!? Haha these creatures are very smart indeed! But that is okay, I will find something else to break through! Aha! I begin to kick and punch at the wall but barely dent it. That is okay! I have a better idea! I will use my pillow to shield my hand from the glass and I will punch a hole though the bedroom window. It is a pretty small window but I think I can get through.

I hear my name! It is Carl! Oh thank God! He could take me out of this place! Oh Carl, I have never been so happy to hear the voice of another human being, a voice that does come from the walls!

“Well now, what on earth have you been doing in here” says Carl. I try to explain to him about the creatures in the wall that have been trying to eat away at my home, and eventually get to me. I tell him that we need to get out of here NOW!

He seems very calm considering the horrible story I just told him about! “Well sir” he says calmly as he begins to make my bed. He pulls something from under my pillow and holds them out to me in his palm, “this is why you need to take your medication. Why, there must be three days worth of medication here. I thought we could trust you now, sir; you had been doing so well. Why did you stop taking them?”

…hahaha they got to you too now Carl? I should have known my house would not be the only one affected. They must have eaten away at all of Carl’s house, like it has been trying to do to mine, and it has begun to control him!

“Nurse, I am going to need some back-up in here” Carl yells out calmly.
Two other men enter the room and grab me by the arms. I will not be taken without a fight!!! They eventually strap me down and inject me with some horrible medication to mess with my mind. I will tell you, it worked for a little while. I started to believe their little story that I had some mental breakdown and I took their medication for a while.

Now, I am sitting here writing this, I have smartened up. I have stopped taking those pills they use to control me and I am plotting my escape. I must get out before whiteness takes over again.

Credit To – B. Paige

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October 26, 2014
by derpbutt
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A Race For My Life

I’m still afraid of the dark. I’m 30 years old and my heartbeat goes berserk if all the lights are cut off at the same time. The only thing I fear more than darkness is being near dark woods at night. People say that I’m either being a wuss or paranoid, but I… I know better. I always carry a small flashlight about myself, so at least I can see when it comes for me.

Almost twenty years ago my family and I were at my great grandparent’s ranch in a family gathering. I was 10 years old then. That first day I played with the other kids, fussed about my great grandparents, ate a lot of sweets and then played some more until the afternoon fell. All was blissful enjoyment until my father was invited to have ‘a beer’ and see the TV airing of a baseball game in a terrace. In my country when you’re invited for ‘a single beer’ is codename for ‘a case of beer’ in other words a drinking binge. My mother was in on the deceit, and seeing the potential danger of my father drinking too much sent me to tag along with him. I beg her not to make me go for I knew how difficult and stubborn my father was. Besides, I really didn’t feel like leaving all the fun behind and settle to stand in a corner in who knew where. She made me go anyway in the hopes that my father would find himself forced to return early.

That didn’t happen. As soon as my father saw that the baseball game final was airing in a huge (bigger than me) color TV I knew I was in for the long run. After 3 hours it was dark and my throat was raw because of my continuous efforts in asking to leave. I whined and whined to get him to take me back to the ranch. When it became too much for the other parents and men to bear, one of them had to suggest that since the terrace was directly behind my great grandparent’s ranch I could use the fence to guide me there.

– The path is well lit. – a drunkard said. – Pablo’s and Martha’s ranch is at the immediate right, and her grandparents’ plantain crop is at the left, so even if she’s stupid enough to stray and get lost she’ll still end up in family territory.

I turned wide eyed at my father. Surely he wasn’t going to send his daughter alone through a freaking plantain crop in the night so he could stay a bit longer! Well the bastard did. He told me I had two choices; I could either stay here and shut it, or go back to the ranch by myself to my manipulative mother. I squared myself I was a rebellious kid back then; I made classmates eat dirt for talking trash about my parents. However, he was the adult and I the kid, so I only could give him the meanest stare I could muster before turning around and make it to the patio to start my walk.

After walking on my own for 5 minutes or so I was seriously reconsidering to turn around. I had light alright; there were lamp post every now and then. Despite that drunkard’s assessment I wasn’t stupid and kept a straight line following the fence. Still, the eeriness around me, the loneliness, the treacherous mud that constantly made me slip, the occasional mouse that crossed my path, and the weird shapes that my full speed imagination was making me see in the plantain crops had me nearly crying. My dad was so going to pay for this! I was already making a plan in my head. I was going to start to fake-cry as soon as I spotted the ranch, then I was going to find my mom and tell her what dad made me do in colorful detail, and how mean he and the other men were, and that he called her names and that…

An energy blackout.

People forget how truly dark the night is without a lamp, light bulb or a flashlight to fender off the darkness. Well for me at that moment a blackout was the last thing I needed. It was a moonless night; I couldn’t see anything at all. I couldn’t even see my hands in front of my face. I quickly knew I could either stay still wait for the blackout to end, or I could continue on walking blind using the fence to guide myself. I had just made the choice to go on when I realized that everything had gone really quiet really soon. The owls were no longer hooting, the crickets just stopped chirping. All I could hear was the sound of my own quick breath, but then I heard a ‘crunch’ sound. I froze. A heartbeat later I heard it again. I wanted to turn and see what had made it but I knew I’ll see nothing. ‘Crunch, crunch, crunch’ that was the sound of leaves being step on which meant that someone was coming over to where I was.

‘Crunch, crunch, crunch’

Except that when you’re 10 you know all the stories of the boogieman, the chupacabra, the crying lady, the children dealer… that could have even been my dad… but a stressed imagination made it a monster.

I ran.

I ran blind, outstretching my right hand brushing the fence to make sure I was running in the straightest line possible. My straw hat fell to my back, the safety string keeping it from falling to the ground, flapping against my back. The thing that had been stalking me, the monster, started to run too. I knew it was a monster then because it didn’t spoke or yelled for me to stop, or at least to call out who has there. I didn’t needed further confirmation of what was chasing me, but the monster decided to voice his displeasure at a fast meal I suppose, and let out an earsplitting growl.

RUUARRRrrrrr

I was a fast kid and fear made wonders with my stamina. Still the ground was slippery and after a few feet I fell and kissed the ground. I recovered quickly got up and kept on running. I felt the ground shook as if the monster had landed where I had fallen. After a while, I don’t know how long (seconds, minutes) I was beginning to feel cramps. I knew my knees were scrapped and bloodied and my lip torn but the monster was right behind me. It didn’t growled again but I could hear It’s heavy huffing. Suddenly, I spotted turpentine lamps in the distance and I recognized them as the patio lamps of my great grandparent’s ranch.

For the first time in the entire chase I yelled for help.

– Mom! Mom help me! Someone Help!

I pushed harder, the monster too. I was nearly there. The plantain crop ended and I was in the patio. Then I felt something pull my hat, pulling me back as well. I raised my hands to my neck and pulled the safety string knot and the hat came loose. I ran harder still, until the earth became gravel and I saw the immediate back yard of the houses.

– Mom! Help me! Someone please! – I yelled louder, and more desperately.

I saw movement ahead, shapes running to where I was. I felt the monster slow down but I sure as hell didn’t. I heard gasps and indistinct murmurs of shock but I still pressed on. Soon I bypassed all the people that ran to my encounter and made it for the central house where I knew my mom was. Once I got to the door I slammed it open, spotted my mom at the end of the living room and ran towards her making my way through all the other adults. When I got to her I vice-griped myself to one of her legs and busted crying.

– What the hell? Why are you like this? Is that blood? Where the hell is your father? – Mom was asking all the questions in the world with the urgency only parenthood can deliver. I was in no shape to answer any of them though; I was still struggling to breathe.

– Someone bring this child a glass of water sweetened with honey, – I heard my great-grandfather say in that wheezing voice of his untouched by time in my mind. – and also a bowl with chilled water and a cotton cloth.

After I was made to drink small sips of the sweetened water and my mother cleaned my face, neck and arms with the cloth dipped in the cold water I regained a little composure. I say a little because I was still expecting the thing to barge in on us all.

– Now, can you tell us why you came back on your own? And what happened to scare you out of you mind? – Mother asked. She too was a little less shocked now.

I told her everything albeit, my father’s part greatly minimized in favor of the escape from the monster. Regardless, it was all for naught. I was a child then, and a scared one at that. My conviction was dismissed as imagination due to the stress of the walk in the dark because monsters just don’t exist; despite being told otherwise by the same people to get you to behave and eat your freaking vegetables. To make matters worse all the relatives that ran to my encounter in the patio could only testify of ‘a dark indistinct shadow’.

My great grandparents were not so quick to dismiss my story though.

– Didn’t Martha’s boy go missing yesterday? – My great grandfather asked with that wheezing voice of his. At this one of my aunts answered:

– Well yes, but Pablo gave him a whipping yesterday. He left to make them worry like he always does it, that little rascal. He might turn up in a couple of days when he gets kicked out from where he is.

My great grandmother slowly shook her head. – Mark our words children, – my great grandmother said her breathing a bit elaborated – the woods hold many dangers still. Beyond mere bugs to sting you, tarantulas to bite you and crevices to fall into while drunk. – She locked eyes on me – It is good that you learned that and survived child. My brother Federico was not so fortunate. We found only what ‘The Taker’ couldn’t fit into his belly. – At this all other grownups groaned and whispered ‘here we go again’, but I went still. I won’t ever forget.

One good thing though is that between showing up alone, disheveled, scared, knees bleeding and lip swollen, my dad, the drunkard that had the idea and all other present at the time had the trial of a lifetime not just from my mom, but all the other parents as well. We went to bed a bit late due to all the retelling but I still couldn’t sleep.

Just as well because I had a visitor.

I heard the monster walking outside of the cabin, the sound of gravel being step on giving it away. I rose slowly from the bed I was sharing with my family (minus dad, who was in the floor). It had to be the monster for it was almost 3am. No one stayed up that late under my great grandparent’s roof. I turned on a flashlight and checked that the windows and door were bolted. Then I waited, listening to it making its rounds; once, twice, thrice… looking for an opening perhaps? Was it just taunting me then, letting me know that it wasn’t done with me? I cried silent tears into my pillow, not daring to alert the monster of my awareness of its presence, or worst; waking up my parents and have them open the door to convince me that there wasn’t anything to fear, when there truly was a thing to fear. Just a bit after 4am after making several rounds on the cabin it left. I dared not believe it until I heard the night sounds take over again after its footsteps grew fainter and fainter. I didn’t sleep at all.

Come morning I got up after my mom. She was going to be the first out of the cabin, and though the monster still scared me as hell I wasn’t going to let her face it alone. I nearly cried with relieve when I saw half of the whole gathering up and about, understandable since we were all leaving after lunch.

But as we entered the kitchen we saw a huge commotion. Once we closed in I saw Don Carlos, my great grandparents youngest, he was the center of attention due to what he was retelling at the top of his lungs.

– I’m telling you what I saw! His whole body was chewed over! All the flesh from the stomach, the thighs and legs, arms and forearms, buttocks, his manhood… God! Dogs don’t do that shit! They don’t strip over a body of all the clothes tossing them on a neat pile and then go on to eat the parts with the most flesh! I don’t care what the authorities say. That’s not the work of a pack of famine dogs!

Another man I did not recognized piped in – But Carlos, what if there were several dogs? That could be quite…-

– Oh really now! – My great uncle bellowed. – And I suppose dogs can open ribcages too and make do with the organs! Those ribs were pried open!

We left right after coffee. The death and the matter of how the body of the son of Martha and Pablo was found brought a tragic end to the family gathering. Some families stayed for breakfast. But my parents started packing after hearing the bit about how a straw hat with a pink ribbon (my straw hat) was found mere feet from the boy’s body. But what really made them throw the bags in the trunk and bolt with me, was that an uncle came from inspecting the path in which I ran from the monster the previous night, saying that there were no tracks of dogs, but tracks of hooves, which he couldn’t understand as no one owned mules or donkeys in the area.

Almost twenty years have passed after that night. Twenty years I’ve spent felling a grip over my heart, constantly looking over my shoulder, waiting for the monster to return and hunt me again. It is real. The monster hasn’t been idle in all these years. It has hunted numerous times. I still fear it because it’s not sticking to children; it has hunted adults as well. I don’t know if the authorities are still convinced that it’s a pack of wild dogs; or if they know exactly what it is and fear to go after it. It’s a relief that in the city of my country the houses bore bars in windows and doors. However, I still can hear footsteps in my sleep. I can still see moving shapes in the dark of the streets and from the windows of my apartment. I can still feel that same uneasiness I felt when I first heard that ‘crunch’ sound in that dark plantain twenty years ago, like it’s still out there, behind me and waiting to pounce.
Credit To – NaiaraDLCR

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October 26, 2014
by derpbutt
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Lights Out

Growing up, my biggest fear as a child was checking my room for monsters before going to sleep. I always had my dad check for me and of course he did. I always felt much safer following that and I could go to sleep much easier.

As time went on I had overcome the phase of needing my room checked for monsters because after so many years of having my father fail at finding any, I gained a sense of comfort in believing they didn’t exist.

That was a mistake.

When I was 10 years old, my parents and I moved houses. It was only about 15 minutes from where we used to live, however it felt like moving to a completely new country. I didn’t much like the new house. I didn’t know it. I wasn’t familiar with it and so once again my irrational fear of monsters surfaced.

I remember my first night like it was yesterday because I have never been more petrified in my entire life.

It was about 9:30pm when I was getting ready to sleep. There wasn’t any need to check my closet or under my bed as I had grown past that. But that night was unsettling. I could not sleep. I kept hearing light moaning sounds coming from down the hall. So light that I wasn’t even sure if I was even hearing them. This continued on for several minutes before I heard an alarmingly loud thud.

My bed was positioned in the middle of my room against the wall so that I could get up on either side and my door stood about a metre from my left. I sat up on my bed and glanced through my doorway straight down the hall. Nothing. I thought maybe something had fallen over due to being unbalanced. I settled back into my blankets and glanced at my alarm clock. 11:53pm. I’m never usually awake this late at night. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.

Suddenly, another, louder thud pierced the silence of the night. My eyes shot open and stared at the wall opposite me. I clenched my blankets closer to my face and hoped my father would awaken to find the cause of the sound. Of course it was just my luck to have parents who were deep sleepers, so unfortunately I just had to put it aside. That was until the moaning started again. It felt closer. I tried to block it out but it was all I could hear. It was all I could seem to focus on. That was when the sound of footsteps became clear to me.

I closed my eyes violently. The sounds stopped. Seconds passed and I opened my eyes again. To my relief there was nothing. I rolled and faced upwards towards my ceiling. Leaning up to once again face the hallway, I felt my heart sink as I saw a figure transition backwards into the darkness.

I threw myself under my blankets and breathed heavily into my pillows. The heat was getting unbearable and I knew I would have to resurface from my cocoon of safety.

I heard more footsteps, and then a light switch turn on. I poked my head out and realised someone had gotten up. I rose from my bed and I too walked out into the household, turning the lights on in the hallway and surrounding rooms to reveal nothing but ordinary household stuff. Whoever was up had finished doing whatever they were doing and returned to bed. I stood in my doorway and turned out the lights and crawled back into bed.

I turned on to my side and attempted to fall asleep before a thought pierced my mind.

“Did you check the room for monsters?”

I froze.

I, once again, opened my eyes and glanced down towards the floor. I clasped my hands slowly over the bed and pulled my body towards the side. Leaning over, I slowly positioned my head far enough down to get a clear view of the space under my bed. Nothing.

All of sudden, what I had missed entirely quickly became clear as day. Two feet were planted flat on the floor on the opposite side of the bed. Before I could do anything, one foot rose from the ground followed by the other.

A new weight had shifted onto my bed…

Credit To – Brodie Stevenson

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October 26, 2014
by derpbutt
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The Imitator

I can’t believe that I’d let it escape from my thoughts for so long. I must have repressed it; but now it’s all coming back to me, every last bit. I knew there was a reason that I was so terrified of the dark. The fear was just too intense; too primal to be just some phobia. I had always taken it as some sort of sick dream, but if I had only seen the truth a may have had more time to warn people. More time to try and stop it from spreading like a disease, infecting more and more lives. I think it has something to do with children, the pureness of them, the innocence. That’s why it went for me then.

It happened when I was 7. Even then I had hated the dark. I cannot ever imagine a time where I had felt any sort of comfort or safety within the dark, only ever fear. A deep embedded fear for the unknown horrors being cloaked by the darkness. By this age, my parents believed that my fear of the dark was just a “stage” in my early life and, in an attempt to help fix this problem, they gave me a nightlight.

I remember my parents tucking me into my small bed. The light from the doorway only helped to penetrate just a small portion of my room’s darkness, which seemed to reach out like deaths embrace from the corner of my room. There were no windows in my room; it was situated in the middle of the house where natural light couldn’t reach it. I remember it even now how my small heart would pound in my chest as I imagined evil things hiding in every shadow in my room. I hated that room.

“I don’t want to stay in here.” I said to them, like I had almost every other night before.

“There is nothing to be afraid of dear.” My mother whispered to me as she tucked me into bed and kissed my head. “We got something to help you fall asleep.”

She was true to her word as a soft glow emerged from where my father was kneeling. The glow seemed to encompass my bed and drive back the darkness that, for years, had been tormenting me.

“We got you a night light son. It will protect you from all the bad things.” He said softly as he stood up and took his place next to my mother. “Just remember to turn off the light when you wake up in the mornings”

“I will dad” I remember saying. My energy leaving my body as I realised just how tired I was.

“I know son.” My dad whispered back.

“Now go to sleep dear, we love you.” I remember my mum saying as they slowly left my bedside and shut the door behind closed the door just enough to still let a slither of light through.

My eyes were growing heavy then; I struggled to keep them open as I was slowly drifting off to sleep. I remember being happy. However, as I think more and more about that memory I noticed something strange. The light seemed to push back the darkness in my room. Every bit except the corner of my room, which was as pitch as tar and seemed to struggle unnaturally against the warm light….

——
I remember waking up that night to the sound of my door closing shut. Thoughts ran through my little head. Was it the wind? Did mum or dad just shut it on their way past to bed?

“Turn off the light.” Whispered a familiar voice. It came from inside the room.

I was still partially under the effect of sleep when I responded. “Dad? Is that you?” I asked, for the voice did sound like it belonged to dad.

The night light was still on, bathing most of my room with light. It didn’t make sense. I heard dad in my room but I couldn’t see him anywhere.

“Turn off the light.” Dad repeated.

By then, I had noticed where dad’s voice was coming from. It was from the corner of my room, the spot where my night light couldn’t reach and where the darkness still lingered. It was strange. Why would dad want me to turn my light off if he had just given it to me that night? Not only that but I could now see his eyes piercing through the darkness. Had his eyes always been like that?

“Dad, I can’t see you. Can you come closer to the light?” I asked, still confused just why he was hiding from me.

Something started to move out from the darkness, but it wasn’t dad.

“Mum? What are you doing there?” I asked, as my mind was trying to comprehend what was happening.

She had stepped partially into the light. Everything looked normal about her, but her head was still shrouded in darkness and her eyes. I don’t know how it was possible but I could see her eyes so clearly now. They were the same as dads, but I realised something then. They weren’t their eyes. These eyes had something evil about them, a hatred that I hadn’t noticed before.

“There is nothing to be afraid of dear.” She said from the darkness. “Turn off the light. “She said.

But it wasn’t her voice. That voice did not belong to her. It was dad’s voice. Something was seriously wrong. It was reaching out to me now. Beckoning me to come closer, into the darkness. I was afraid and I did what any kid would do. I screamed. I screamed as loud as I possibly could for as long as I could. By now, mum, or whatever it was had retreated back into the darkness.

Within seconds the door burst open and there were my parents. What was happening? I was so confused I didn’t know what to think but as my parents switched on the light I saw it, the thing in the corner.
Thinking about it still terrifies me even to this day. I remember that it did not have the body of a human being. It was lurched over, like it was about to flee the scene. It looked like an insect. Its legs, if that’s what you could call it, were spiny and positioned in the same way as a grasshopper’s. Its torso was spiny and scaly too and it’s arms. Its arms looked like that of a praying mantis. The only thing that resembled a human was its face. It had a normal looking nose and ears and had no hair whatsoever. Its mouth, however, stretched almost from ear to ear where rows of pointed teeth stood, almost like the creature was grinning. Its eyes were the main thing that I remember. They just looked through me. I was terrified.

The next thing I knew, the thing was screaming. A scream of pure pain which felt like it was going to burst my ear drums. I put my hands over my ears to block the noise as I watched it in a mixture of confusion and terror. The thing was backing as far as it could into the corner as it tried to cover itself from the light with its hands, if that’s what you would call them. Then the thing sprang towards my parents faster than I could possible imagine.

It pushed forcefully past my parents and out the door of my room into the main hallway. We could hear its scream through the house knocking things over until we heard the sound of a window break and just like that, the thing was gone into the night.

——
Of course we called the police but when my parents described what happened they thought we were crazy. Either that or they couldn’t exactly deal with anything paranormal. After that we didn’t talk about it. I tried to repress it as much as I could but I never sleep anywhere at night without some sort of light on. Things went on like this for quite a while. I still live in the same house. I was starting to get better. I had almost forgotten about it. That is, until last night, as I was going to sleep, I heard a voice. It was my mothers.

“There is nothing to be afraid of dear.” She whispered.

Just the sound of it gave me chills. I was a child again, just 7 years old. I sat up in my bed as I faced the dark corner of my room.

“You aren’t my mother, she died 3 years ago.” I replied, trying to be brave.

“I know.” The thing replied, still in my mother’s voice. “I consumed her.”

“What are you?” I asked the thing, as chills shot down my spine.

After a time it replied as it took a step into the dull light. Its eyes, the very same as I remember them to be, staring right into mine. “I am the imitator.” It spoke through the voice of my father.

——
This is a warning to everyone out there. Or perhaps not. A warning gives person information on how to avoid a situation. There is no avoiding this situation. I will come for you. Just some last piece of advice. There a reason people are afraid of the dark.

Credit To – SERindustries
Credit Link – https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCFa4NtHhKDZGLvD3z7zZfGA

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October 26, 2014
by derpbutt
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3 Short Horror Stories

3 Short Horror Stories By Jason P Roberts

1. The Kiss
There are things in this world that should not exist. We find them in the deepest and darkest places we can find. Sometimes its a prehistoric monster from the depths of the ocean or an terrible abomination from deep in the forest. My nightmare came from the later and I feel that I may never be truly safe again. Have you ever wondered why in the middle of a heavily forested area, there is a large clearing of no trees or large bushes of any kind? I know…Its because something sleeps there…something very large, something very evil. Here is what I remember.
I lived in a large two story house that over looked Pillchuck tree farm in Arlington,Washington. I owned 50 acres of beautiful land filled with horses, dogs, and my own private 25 stall barn and indoor arena for riding during the winter. I named my equestrian center Dutch Mills Farm because most of my family is from Holland.
For fifteen years I lived happily with my wife and children and a barn full of happy clients who boarded their horses at my barn, for a fair price of course. All that happiness ended one horrible night as I looked out my bathroom window one foggy moonlit night.
The full moon illuminated the tree farm and the thick layer of fog looked like a enormous white blanket of cotton lying across the top of the trees. All of that tranquil beauty was interrupted by a dark shape that slowly lifted out of the fog then slowly disappeared from sight. I could not figure out what the hell it was, who would be out at this time of night any way? After a few day I forgot all about it. I had just got ready for bed when I decided to fire up my lap top and read up on any recent events in the local news. Apparently, according to one news report, there have been incidents of animals disappearing, mainly cows, goats, and even a few horses. One report mentioned a mutilated cow, but not how you might think, it seemed to have been bitten in half.
After reading the reports of the missing animals, I started making sure all of my horses were locked away in the stalls at night, instead of letting them rome in and out and my dogs were locked inside before sunset. It was near midnight when I noticed I was having trouble falling asleep. I slowly forced myself up and quietly found my way to the master bath trying not to wake my wife. I grabbed a glass a filled it with water then I fumbled around the top drawer trying to find my sleeping pills. I took out a pill and swallowed it . I found myself staring once again at the tree farm, the memory of the other night creeping back to the surface of my mind. I can’t tell you how long I stood there, but it was long enough for the medicine to start kicking in. Finally I decided to go to bed and thought to myself “You were just seeing things” and started to turn towards the door. Then it happened…this time much closer, the dark shape resurfaced above the quilt of fog . It looked like…like a human head.
This head had to have been the size of a car. I squinted my eyes to try to see some kind of detail but the medication made it hard to focus. I thought I could make out some features, it seemed to me to be female, Then I froze in terror…it looked like it was staring at me. Then everything went black.
The next thing I knew my wife was waking me in the bathroom, the sun had just started to peak over the tree line. The glass I used was in pieces next to me, I was lucky I had not cut myself as I slept. Then I remembered what I saw, I dared not tell anyone, besides it could have been the medication I took. I decided it was my imagination and not some giant monster roaming the nearby forest. The next night however would change that idea and my life would never be the same.
I decided not to share my experiences with my family and friends. I wasn’t going to tell any one. I heard news from one one my clients about a boy scout troupe that went missing, they were camping in the tree farm last night. Something like 12 boys and the troupe leader, all gone, nothing but a smashed up camp left behind. That night I decided to grab my camera and wait until midnight since that’s when the thing seems to show itself. When the time came I crept out of bed grabbing the camera off my night table. The moon was not as full as it had been, but still cast enough light for me to see pretty far off. The fog was even thicker tonight than last night. I waited for over an hour with out seeing anything out of the ordinary. I started feeling like an idiot, “What the hell are you doing” I thought to myself ” Your staring at a bunch of trees instead of getting some much needed sleep”. I put the camera in the bathroom drawer, that way I would not get questioned by my wife about what I was doing with a camera in the middle of the night. I closed the drawer and took one last look out the window with a smile on my face as I found my situation some what amusing. I Froze…I couldn’t breathe…its impossible. Above the fog a huge women’s face was staring at me. It’s evil eyes starred into my soul, then she smiled at me licking her lips in an almost sensual way. She held a cow in one hand and brought it to her horrible mouth. The cow was straining to get away and making the most terrible sounds I ever heard an animal make. Then the monster bit it in half, and swallowed with out chewing. I threw up several times and when I was done I looked up expected it to be gone, but it wasn’t. The she monster again licked her lips in a vile way and as strange as it may sound, she blew me a kiss. Then she disappeared once again into the fog.
The next day I made plans to have the horses moved and I found a place for us to rent until I could get my house and property sold. I decided to stay one more night, I had to get a picture of this thing. I waited a midnight by the window with my camera ready to go, I half expected to see it raise its head out of the fog for another gory display, but nothing happened. Disappointed, I went to bed with my gun under my pillow and actually slept fairly good knowing my family was in a motel miles from here.
The next morning I got up and walked over to my large bedroom window and opened the curtain. I found myself starring a blood encrusted lip print about four feet across on my window. Was she letting me know she could have got me during the night, or was she kissing me good bye?

2. The Woman in Black
Alzheimer’s disease has been called “the living death”. It steals your loved ones from you a piece at a time. I lost my grand mother to Alzheimer’s when I was eight years old. Even at that tender young age I knew my grand mother could not recognize me anymore and worse, she was dying. During the final stages of her illness my grand mother would get rid of things around her house. She even lost my grand father’s purple heart from World War Two. Then my grand mother succumbed to the illness and died. I remember the drive to the funeral home, I can still see the old tombstones at the cemetery next door. I was holding my mother’s hand when I first saw her in the coffin, my grand father standing over her in tears. My grand father told my mother that thing he misses most was her wedding ring, she lost it a few month ago when her health was really starting to decline. He described it as having a gold band with a single large diamond in the center. Then he turned back to her a cried.
I hated seeing my grand father like this, I turned away and left the room. I found myself walking down a long hallway with several open doors on either side. I peeked into the first room on my left and noticed the room was empty except for another open coffin. I approached the coffin slowly and saw an elderly woman dressed in black, she did not look that much different from my own grand mother. I actually felt kinda bad no one was there to mourn her. As I started to turn away I noticed a large diamond ring on her finger. I had a thought ” what if I took it and gave it to my grand father to put on my grand mother”. Being only eight it seemed like a good idea, how wrong I was.
I had trouble at first pulling the ring off, I remember getting chills when I accidentally touched her cold dead skin. But with a little perseverance I worked it free, I couldn’t wait to give it to my grand father! I turned toward the door and headed off to find him, but just as I reached the door I heard a strange noise. I slowly looked behind me and stood there with my mouth open, unable to scream or even breathe. The old woman in black had sat up in her coffin and was starring at me! I started backing away keeping my eyes on the thing now starring at me with dead eyes. I backed up until I was out of the room and almost across the hall. I had backed into some one, I felt relief knowing some one else was there. I turned around and looked up only to find another corpse who had escaped his coffin starring down at me. I turned and ran down the hall way as fast as I could, I turned the corner at the end and stood there is terror. I ran the wrong way…it was a dead end. I cautiously looked around the corner, there were about nine different corpses working there way towards me…including the woman in black.
I backed up against the back wall and screamed for help, but no one came. I could see the shadows of the dead near the corner as they approached. I yelled out “I’m sorry” as loud as I could. I took the ring in my left hand and slowly worked my way towards the hall, leaning the front of my body against the wall. I took the ring and threw it as hard as I could down the hall towards the dead things. I then dropped to the floor with my hands over my head waiting to feel their cold hands do what ever horrors then had planned for me. I could then shuffling but could not tell if it was towards me or away from me. After several minutes I looked up and saw nothing, I worked my way down the hall peering into each room as I past . They were all back in their coffins as if nothing happened. Except for the woman in black…she was sitting up in her coffin slipping the ring back on her dead finger. She slowly turned her head towards me, we starred at each other for several minutes. Then her mouth flew open and made the most horrible sound I have ever heard in my life, I fell backwards onto the floor, then I scurried to my feet and ran back to my grand mother’s room. My family was still in there, my mother turned to me a said “Hey kiddo, where have you been?”. I just ran to her and held her hand…I didn’t let go until we got home.

3. Betrayed
Hey Tom. This is the hardest e-mail I ever had to write. You and I have been best friends for what 25 years? I remember when we met in seventh grade, you helped me through some hard times bro, I never really thanked you for that. I got your message a few weeks ago about how your wife is gone and every thing you worked so hard for is over. What happened between you two? You always seemed so happy? I thought you both would see it to the end. After I got your message I took it upon myself to talk to her, you know, talk some sense into her. I wanted to tell her how perfect you were for each other. I hoped to find out what really went wrong, from her point of view. Any way, I stopped by and we talked. Well, It got kinda late and she offered to let me sleep on the couch and since we both had our fair share of wine, I decided to stay. Hey, better than driving drunk right?
I’m sorry to say thing kinda got kinda friendly after that. One thing led to another and to make a long story short, we have been seeing each other for a couple weeks. While your in Japan for month for work, I have been stopping by your place and spending the night with your wife. I betrayed you…I’m so sorry. I’m going to see her tonight. This time she is coming to my house. I’m gonna break it off . I promise. I’m sure our friendship is over…I hope I’m wrong. I’m so sorry Tom. I just heard a knock at my door, she’s right on time. I will let you know what happens. Talk to you soon. Your friend…Barry.
You have mail from Tom Anderson. Barry! My god! What are you saying? When I said my wife was gone I meant that she was dead! She died when our house burnt down a month ago! Don’t answer the door Barry! Don’t answer the door!

Credit To – Jason P Roberts

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October 26, 2014
by derpbutt
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Among The Ashes

A cool breeze brushes over an endless grassy mound, tall grass softly sways. Atop the mound is a single solitary bench, there sits a young woman. Slowly the sun rises and an orange hue engulfs the land, the woman closes her eyes, tilts her head back and sinks into a euphoric state. She whispers to herself “this… this is bliss.” Then a piercing pain grows inside her mind, her face grimaces, she begins to hear a faint distorted screech, it gets louder and draws closer. She opens her eyes to find a black withered tree before her, and from behind steps a man, skin burnt, face ghoulish and deathly, bearing lifeless eyes and a mouth open wide. The young woman recoils and shuts her eyes, the screeching stops. When she opens her eyes it is clear, it was only a nightmare.

The young woman has awakened from cryo-sleep, alone and scared. She leaves her cryo chamber to find all other chambers empty and the smell of death in the air. Although bewildered by her surroundings one thing is clear, the spacecraft is derelict and silent. As she paces the room passing each chamber she realises she has no recollection of this place, she stops. “Where the hell am I? What happened here?” Then an even worse thought comes to mind “Who am I?” On the cold floor she sat for a while, repeating those questions in her mind, over and over. The light above her begins to flicker, releasing her from her puzzled mind. Her confusion turns into curiosity when she spots a computer at the end of the room. The monitor is cracked but still working. On the screen is a logo, it is Earth. The foreground of the logo reads “International Exploration of Space” Going through the computer system she finds a document entitled “Side effects of Cryo-sleep” It reads.

“Cryo-sleep is used for long space voyages. It consists of the low temperature preservation of a human kept in a controlled environment. Side effects may include; nausea, drowsiness, headaches, temporary memory loss, inflamed skin, muscle pains, weak muscles and stiffness in joints.”

Upon reading the document she feels a sense of clarity in knowing the cause of her memory loss. Before leaving the computer station she notices a flash light and a key card on the desk and underneath lay an audio log, she plays it.

“Audio log #1 – This is Nick Barrett Executive Officer of the IES Pheonix-SDD1 we have just awoken from cryo-sleep and arrived safely in X-9A’s orbit. After I know each crew member is healthy and ready for duty, I will waste no time in sending a team down to the planet’s surface for examination.”

She feels confused by this, but it seems familiar. “Time to find some answers” she tells herself. Then, she is met with a terrible truth, there is only one exit from the cryo room and it is a corridor leading into a pitch black abyss. Only wielding a flash light she ventures into the shadows.
In the darkness she could barely see further than her arm’s length, she finds comfort in the directory lines beneath her feet. This gives her guidance, this gives her strength. Her steps are short and slow and her demeanour is cautious, this worsens when her footing is lost. She takes a moment to recover, telling herself to remain calm, she closes her eyes then counts to three, “one… two…” as she continues, she is interrupted by a chilling sound, the sound of heavy breathing in front of her. Hands sweaty and shaking she slowly raises her flash light and opens her eyes, only to be met with the end of the corridor, with a directional sign and an air vent above. The sign points left, it reads “Medical Bay”.

Leaving the shadows and approaching the medical bay, the flickering light which shone through the door’s porthole made her feel safe, but that feeling didn’t remain long. The smell of death got stronger with every step closer to the door. She brings herself to look through the porthole. The walls are stained with blood and in the centre of the room is an operating table, on it lie a lifeless body covered by a blood soaked sheet. As she peers into the room through the porthole darkness slowly surrounds her and the light cowers away. Until this point the light had always continually flickered but this time it didn’t return. There she stood in complete darkness waiting for a release from the blackness. She remembers her flash light and shines it towards the porthole. Peering through is a man, the man from her nightmare, his eyes lifeless and cold, never breaking contact from her own. For a while he stared then in the blink of an eye he was gone. The light then came back. This time it wasn’t flickering. She now felt safe enough to look again, the room was empty. Using the key card she found in the cryo chamber she entered the medical bay.

The stench of death is nearly unbearable. It comes from the operating table. She slowly pulls away the blood stained sheet covering the dead body. The smell is overwhelming. She covers her nose and mouth with her hand and the sheet drops to the floor. The body is of a man, it has been decomposing for some time because skin has begun to liquefy. Upon closer examination of the body she notices his bottom jaw had been ripped off and he had been stabbed several times. She covers the body and explores the room. Among scalpels and saws she finds another audio log, this one titled Audio Log #3.

“Audio Log #3 – This is Executive Officer Nick Barrett, Something has happened. We have just found Chief Engineer Leon Reed’s body in the medical bay. He has been… killed. His lower jaw removed and he has been stabbed several times. This is an act I can only describe as pure evil. What kind of person could do something like this? Austin Palmer our other engineer has gone missing, and I believe he has something to do with this. Crew members have told me they have seen the two arguing on several occasions. I have told the crew to remain calm and to stay together at all times. We cannot risk another loss.”

Austin Palmer, she is familiar with his name. Is he the murderer? Is he the one from her nightmare? She needs to find answers and recover her memory. Ready to leave the medical bay she sees an exit door with a sign above, it reads “Living and Sleeping Quarters” Using the key card she goes to exit. The door won’t open. The key card won’t work. She searches the room for a different key card. Then, she notices a grill lying on the floor. It is from the vent in front of her. Pitch black and narrow, this is her only exit. She enters the ventilation system.

Cautiously crawling through, she turns on her flash light. The walls are covered in words, written in blood. The words seem illegible and unclear. She takes a moment to read them. She realizes all the writing is the same.

“I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.”
“I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.”
“I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.”
“I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.”
“I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.”
“I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.”
“I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.”
“I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.”
“I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.”
“I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.” “I KILLED HIM.”

Crawling further, the writing begins to change and grow larger.

“I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.”
“I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.”
“I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.”
“I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.”
“I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.”
“I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.”
“I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.”
“I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.”
“I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.”
“I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.” “I KILL.”

Then finally getting smaller but completely covering the walls are the words.

“KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.” “KILL.”

Then she notices something which stands out, among the hundreds of “KILL”s was a single statement.

“IT’S INSIDE ME”

She hurries out of the ventilation system and now stands among rows of bunk beds. It is the living and sleeping quarters. She searches throughout the sleeping quarters and finds an unlocked bedside locker, inside is a key. It has a tag linked to the chain. On the tag is scribbled “Anna – Locker Room” Leaving the sleeping area she enters the living area. The dying lights sitting overhead cast a dull gloom throughout the room. The sound of static from a broken monitor fills the room. Cabinets wide open. Utensils and books cover the floor. In the centre of the room is a large round table, probably where people sat and socialised, now lonesome, crooked and broken. Behind the table was a computer station like the one from the cryo chamber.

A file on the computer called “IES Pheonix-SDD1 Crew Members Dossier” grabs her attention. It appears to be a list of the crew member’s occupation and photo identification. “Is that… me?” she whispered to herself. The profile was of a Chief Medical Officer Anna Eckhart. She begins to finally feel a small piece of happiness in knowing her identity. Then, Anna recognizes a face. A less ghoulish and burnt face, but she knew it all the same. Austin Palmer, Engineer, he is the man from her nightmare, the one she saw earlier in the medical bay and the one that committed the act of pure evil and hatred. Anna lost all sense of happiness when she saw that face. Her mind loses track when she hears a sequence of banging coming from the vent she entered through. It’s coming closer and closer. Louder and louder. Scared, Anna leaps up from the computer and makes her way to exit. She stops right before leaving and stares intensively at the darkness within the open vent. The lights begin to die completely and the room grows darker. Then… silence. Whatever is in there has stopped at the exit of the vent. The lights continue to fade, making it harder for Anna to see the vent, but she is not in complete darkness. She stands with the exit door open, letting partial light shine in. But, Anna does not like the idea that this means whatever is in the vent can see her. After a few minutes passed Anna grows confident in thinking it was nothing. As she turns to exit, she feels breathe upon her ear and a man’s voice sharply whispers “Anna…” She swiftly turns around but nothing was there, she runs though the exit.

Anna stops to gain her breathe at the end of a long passage. She has reached a door, “Conference Room” as the sign above her reads. As quickly as Anna enters, she recoils and leaves. The smell is revolting and unbearable. Anna forces herself through the stench, telling herself that she has to do this, to find the answers she needs. Inside the room Anna becomes disoriented from the smell, and takes small steps around the room, which is blackened and burned. The remnants of a huge conference table lie at the centre of the room. Whilst pacing the room Anna sees something which will forever remain in her mind. They acted like camouflage, so blackened they were hard to make out against the also blackened wall. In the corner of conference room lie four dead and burned bodies, all huddling together. You can still make out the pain and fear on their faces. Anna is taken over with emotion and falls to her knees, she cries “What kind of person would do this!” Anna sits and thinks about the mad man which did this. Anna realizes she won’t be afraid anymore. She will not be a victim of fear any longer. As she collects herself a glimmer catches her eye and Anna notices something in one of the corpse’s jacket. It is a key, similar to the one she found earlier. This key has “Nick – Locker Room” scribbled on the tag. Anna decides to check all of their pockets. She finds another audio log, Audio Log #5.

“Audio Log #5 – This is Malcolm Keenan. I, Nick Barrett, Eleanor Blackburn and Ryan Mills are in the conference room, we have locked ourselves inside. We are trying to figure out what to do. We don’t know. We just don’t know. We are scared…”

Anna becomes emotional again, sympathizing with what they endured, wondering how much they suffered, why they came to such a cruel demise and where exactly was Austin Palmer. Anna quietly mourns, “Those poor people.” she says under her breathe. Anna slowly rises stands silently for a moment, she then exits the conference room only to be faced with another long and dark passage way. Anna paces as quickly as she can down the corridor, remembering how unsettling her previous similar experiences were. Anna stops, the light above her begins to dim. She turns around. Each light is shutting off in the distance, each time the darkness drawing closer to Anna. She turns and runs, hearing the faint electrical burst every time a light blows out, they grow louder. It is gaining on her. There, in front of her, a door. She looks back, darkness is close. Anna looks ahead. The door is in reach. She frantically opens it and slams it behind her. Inside the room now, she is safe.

Looking back through the porthole she sees nothing. She rests her head on the door and lets out a breath of relief. A raspy whisper comes from behind her “Anna…” She trembles in fear. Anna swiftly turns around in the hopes of nothing being there. But, there he stands, in the shadows opposite her. She tries to sound confident and brave, but all that comes out are shrill sounds. “What… what do you want?” He did not respond and for what seem like an eternity stood silently. Anna begins to ask again, but is interrupted by loud violent screams of pain. He becomes erratic and paces around the room. Anna flings herself into the corner of the room in fear and shuts her eyes as tight as they can go. Suddenly… silence. Anna, reluctant at first, begins to open her eyes. Austin’s face is in front of hers. His eyes are dead, cold and open wide. His stare is powerful and piercing. He slowly moves his face closer. Anna shuts her eyes again and darts her hands up to her face. For a while she feels his breathe upon her hands, but then, it is gone. She has never felt such fear before. A bang in the distance catches her attention, a door shutting. Is he gone? Is this a trick? She has to know for sure. Anna slowly removes her hands from her face. Then hesitantly opens her eyes. The room is empty.

She sat for what felt like a lifetime, never parting her gaze from the door, never moving. Paralyzed with fear. She eventually regained her composure, and slowly rose up from the ground. Gradually Anna paces the room. Upon exploring, it appeared to be a laboratory. A microscope sits on a work station in the centre of the room. Anna inspects it. Tiny microorganisms moved between the glass slides, they are dark red in colour and their movements are sharp and aggressive. She watches for a while, completely mesmerised, she felt oddly drawn to it. Beside the microscope lay an audio log.

“Audio Log #2 – This is Science Officer Malcolm Keenan speaking, umm… I am at a loss for words. We have just come back from X-9A’s surface… and we found something. It wasn’t alien bacteria like we initially suspected. I have no idea what it is. Not yet anyway.”

Anna then notices the lights becoming dimmer once again. It is as if the dark has been following her, slowly approaching. She leaves the laboratory, at the end of a short passageway she is met with two options. To her left a small room filled with lockers and right is the entrance door to the cargo bay. The door to the cargo bay is locked. She peers through the porthole but cannot see anything. Then, she begins to hear a faint sound. It grows louder and clearer. Anna places her ear against the door. The sound is a man’s voice crying out for help. Quickly, she turns to the small room. She remembers the two locker keys she had found. Anna pulls her own key from her pocket, and hurries around the room trying to find her locker, to no prevail. She turns to trying each lock individually. Eventually, one opens. There is only one thing in the locker. In the middle of the empty space was a heart shaped locket, Anna tries to open it but it is stuck. Pacing the room Anna finds the locker belonging to Nick Barrett. Inside are two items a key card and audio log.

“Audio Log #4 – This is Executive Officer Nick Barrett, we have found Austin Palmer in the cargo bay, Malcolm Keenan and I have constrained him and he is secure, we are once again safe on this ship. We are starting to believe that Austin Palmer’s actions and our mission are connected somehow. If he has come in contact with what we first believed was alien bacteria then I feel we have no choice but to eliminate the threat of it spreading. We cannot risk any further outbreak.”

Anna is confused by this and begins to question how Austin got free. Was he set free? It makes her think about the bodies she has seen and how they could have been prevented. Using the key card from Nick Barrett’s locker she opens the door to the cargo bay. The room is much bigger than the rest she has seen. The cargo bay held several vehicles, containers and crates. As Anna searches the room, she begins to smell a stench she had grown all too familiar with. Following the stench she notices a man, sitting on a metal chair. It is Austin Palmer. He sits in front of a row of containers, still, and with his back to Anna. She approaches slowly circling him from a far. Anna eventually makes her way in front of him, she sees his face, and she notices something is different. He is dead. She walked cautiously to him with each step it became more apparent that he was not alive. His arms and feet are bound to the chair. He too had been burnt alive like the others. Anna becomes completely bewildered and unhinged. “What does this mean!” Anna calms herself, and spots something on Austin’s lap, an audio log. She slowly grabs it, still not knowing if this is a trick. She presses play, never taking an eye off of Austin’s corpse. As it plays the lights begin to dim, and darkness draws in.

“Audio Log #6 – I am Chief Medical Officer Anna Eckhart… this… is my confession. I have been infected. I was foolish, when we went down to the planet’s surface… I came in contact with the “Alien Bacteria”. I was scared to tell the others, but Austin comforted me. See, Austin and I are… were engaged. But the IES has strict rules on the relations between crew members, and Leon Reed, Austin’s superior, knew this. He always had his suspicions but we kept on telling him he was crazy. He always brought it up. He would have gotten us reprimanded. I had… enough. Leon was reciting the IES rule book to me when it first happened, a darkness overcame me I began to feel overwhelmed with a feeling of hatred. See, that’s what the infection is. It is hatred, evil, cruelty and callousness. Austin found me on top of Leon with a scalpel in my hand, continually thrusting the blade into him. What scares me most is that I enjoyed it. Afterwards… it is patchy… but I remember Austin telling me everything will be alright as he kissed me goodnight. I awoke the next day with a foggy mind. Austin must have given me a sedative. I walked through… what seemed like an empty ship, but then I heard it. That… sound, it was Austin… he was screaming. They were burning him alive. I tried to stop it but couldn’t. They told me he had confessed to killing Leon. That he had changed and was acting erratic. That he was infected. They must decontaminate him. It must have been the kiss… I infected him. I can’t remember much after that day other than the screams of Nick, Malcolm, Eleanor and Ryan as I burnt them alive just as they did to my Austin. I have been plagued with visions of Austin and his burnt corpse and… his screams. I can’t take it any longer. I can feel the darkness growing inside of me. Without Austin I have nothing, I tried to fight the darkness but now I shall let it have me. I have nothing but pain inside of me now. I will show people my pain, they will know real pain. I have set a course for earth, I will awake on arrival.”

There Anna sat among the ashes of her fiance. Emotions and memories flood back to her. She throws the locket on the ground, it opens and reveals two pictures, one of her and one of Austin. Anna sits on the cold floor in absolute silence. She realizes the pain has come back and has settled. The room is nearly completely pitch black and growing darker. The darkness has finally caught up to Anna, she fades into the abyss.

To Be Continued…
Credit To – Kane Winchester
Credit Link – http://kanewinchester.blogspot.co.uk/

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October 18, 2014
by derpbutt
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The Gift

I’ve always been somewhat of a social outcast. This was of my own design, I suppose. At an early age, I decided that I wanted to throw myself into my studies. You have to get good grades to get into college. You have to get into college to get a good job. You have to get a good job to have a good life. At least that was what I had always been told.

When it came time for me to graduate from high school, my mom promised me a big party. She was really proud of me because I would be the first person in the family to go to college. My grades were good enough that I got a scholarship to one of the local colleges. This would work out great for me because I could get a good education and still live at home. Since my brother moved out a few years ago, it was just my mother and me and although we weren’t exactly poor, we did have to do without some of the things we wanted and greatly appreciated the value of a dollar.

My mom invited practically everyone to my graduation – family members, people from church, a lady I used to take piano lessons from as a child and even her hairdresser! When graduation night came and I walked across the stage, I heard a loud cheer from the audience. It felt good to know so many people were pulling for me. But, I couldn’t help but think that these people were really my mother’s friends, and not my own. No matter, they were all invited to celebrate at my mother’s house afterwards.

At the party, there was cake, punch, snacks, and lots of conversation. Also, everyone gave me graduation gifts! Most of them were cards with small amounts of cash tucked inside, ranging from $10 all the way up to $50 from a particularly generous church couple. My brother, who had driven over a hundred miles for the occasion, gave me a brief case. An aunt gave me an antique rocking chair. The pastor gave me a new bible. Apparently everyone thought I was a 50 year old lawyer with a passion for antiques. But, I did appreciate the sentiment.

I took everything to my room. I sat the heavy rocking chair in a corner, slid the briefcase under my bed, set the bible on my dresser and stashed a total of $185 in my wallet. However, I was not through receiving gifts. A few days later, a small package arrived in the mail for me. It was from an uncle on my mother’s side who had moved to Alaska of all places. I sat on my bed and looked it over. I was fascinated because it wasn’t simply a cardboard box all taped up like you usually get through the mail. Instead, it was wrapped in brown paper and there was a thin piece of twine that was encircling the whole thing and tied into a bow at the top. For some reason, I picked up the package, held it under my nose and inhaled sharply. “Ahhhh, Alaska!” I said to myself, imagining the cool Alaskan air wrapping itself around me.

Carefully, I unwrapped the package and found a small, blue box. I opened it to find a silver pen and ink. Immediately I thought, “Great. There’s another relative who doesn’t know me.” My thoughts then turned to one of the few memories I had of my uncle. Back when my father was still around, my uncle babysat me once while my parents went out of town. He was a thin man with pale skin and sharp features. The lines on his face told of a hard life that belied his cheerful smile when he saw me. I remembered how we stayed up late that night and watched a scary movie. It was great!

I took the pen out of the box, held it in my hand and then adjusted it into a writing position. It actually felt really good. It wasn’t too heavy or too light and seemed perfectly balanced. I put the ink in the pen and scribbled some lines on the brown paper that had been wrapped around the package. Dark ink flowed smoothly and evenly onto it. “Not bad,” I thought.

It wasn’t long before my summer classes at college started. I figured I’d get a jump on my required courses and going in the summer would give me a little time to adjust to college life without the campus being completely full of students. One of the first assignments I got was in my creative writing class. We were supposed to write any story at all as long as we could finish it during the class time provided. I looked around the classroom and could tell that no one else was prepared for this either, but everyone pulled out their notebooks and hurriedly wrote their tales. I decided that I would write about the gifts I had received for graduation and how I would rather have video games.

The next time our class met, the professor handed back our papers and I got a C. A note in the margin simply said, “Boring.” After class, I asked about my grade. The professor said that it lacked inspiration and wasn’t very creative. We talked about ways to think imaginatively and he ended up suggesting that I keep a dream journal to use for ideas.

When I got back home, I put a notebook on my nightstand, found the pen my uncle sent me and set it on top. That night I struggled to get to sleep, but once I did I had a dream. I was a child in a strange house. I crept into a room and picked up a blonde haired doll wearing a pink dress. There were voices coming from another room so I sneaked down the hall to avoid them and went out the back door. Once I was outside, I looked around to make sure no one was watching. I looked down at the doll and gently stroked its hair before wrapping my fist around its head and violently pulling it off. I heard a giggle that did not sound like my own. Next, I pulled off the doll’s arms and legs. Feeling panicked, I looked around and saw a rose bush. I went over to it and dug at the roots, accidentally pricking my finger on a thorn. I tossed the dismembered doll and its body parts into the hole and quickly covered them up. When I woke from the dream, I turned on the light, grabbed my notebook and pen, and stumbled toward the rocking chair where I recorded it in my journal.

The next morning, I yawned as I told my mother about the dream. A look of astonishment washed over her face. “Something almost exactly like that happened to me when I was a girl,” she said. “One day I found my favorite doll torn apart and buried by a rose bush in the back yard. I always thought your uncle did it, but he never admitted to it.” In my next creative writing class, I wrote a story about the dream. It earned me a B with the note, “Better.”

My journal lay silent the next few nights as I didn’t have any dreams, at least none that I remembered. Then, one morning I woke up and looked at the notebook. There, written in all capital letters large enough to cover the entirety of the page was, “WAKE UP!” At the very moment I read it, there was a loud banging on my door and my mother shouted “Wake up!” My head snapped toward my door. “You’re going to be late for your class!” she added.

“I’m up!” I yelled at her. “Go away!” I felt bad for being so abrupt, but she had just about given me a heart attack after all. I looked back down at the paper. I didn’t remember writing anything in my journal. I must’ve awoke in the middle of the night, wrote it and simply forgot.

That night I had a slightly disturbing dream. I saw someone crouched down on the floor of a room. He was busy scribbling something into a notebook. Words were creaking onto the paper as his hand feverishly flew across the page. When I tried to look over his shoulder to make out what he was writing, he moved so that I couldn’t see. However, I did notice that he was using my pen. This infuriated me, so I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder. He quickly stood up and turned to face me. It was me! My eyes were completely white, with large, dark circles underneath them. I had a crazed grin on my face and my hair was a mess, sticking up like horns. I gasped as I took a step backwards in shock and then looked down at the notebook. There was one phrase written all over it in various sizes: “He has you!”

Once again, I recorded everything in my journal. For my next assignment, I wrote about the inner self and how we should look at ourselves as others see us. My attempt earned me a D with the note, “This is not Psychology 101.” At this point, I was starting to get annoyed. My grammar was good, I tried really hard, and I was even using the damn journal as inspiration. Maybe I wasn’t ready for college. I wasn’t doing very well in my other classes lately either.

After a long and frustrating day, I stared angrily at the blank page in my journal before I went to sleep. As I drifted off, I dreamed that I was in an old house. I walked down a long hallway and then down into the basement which had a dirt floor and walls. There was a hole in the wall that I crawled through. I found myself atop a stone stairway. I walked down the stairs for what seemed like ages. Eventually I was in an empty room. I looked behind me and the doorway that I came through had disappeared. There was an odd, loud creaking as a large stone platform rose up from the floor in the center of the room. Its surface was as smooth as glass and looked like it was wet. Light from an unseen source shined down onto it. I took a step forward and reached out to touch it when black lines suddenly appeared on the surface. They then moved around and formed into three separate symbols. I had never seen anything like them before and when I tried to focus my eyes on them, they shook violently and settled into different shapes.

I woke up anxious to write everything down in my journal. However, when I reached for my pen, I screamed in shock when I saw that my notebook was covered with the same strange symbols I saw in my dream. I stood up quickly and backed toward my door, keeping my eyes on the journal. As I moved across the room, the symbols seemed to change shape and eventually looked like a pair of eyes staring directly at me. I turned on my light to get a better look. As I walked back toward my nightstand, the symbols seemed to scurry around on spider legs as they rushed back into their original shapes. Maybe I had just been looking at them from an odd angle. Maybe I was still half asleep and my eyes were still blurry. I had to be imagining the whole thing. No matter, surely this would make for a good story.

The next day during class, I took care to write exactly what had happened in my dream. I felt accomplished. Finally I was turning in something that Professor Thomas might find original. But, my victory was short lived. At the end of our next class, I got my paper back and immediately saw a large F at the top with “Is this a joke?” in the margin. Furiously, I almost crumpled the paper and then I looked at the rest of it. My name was at the top of the page, but gone was the story I wrote in class. Instead, it was replaced with the strange set of repeated symbols from my dream. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I ran out of the classroom and into the bathroom. I splashed water on my face and looked at myself into the mirror. What the hell was happening to me? Did I really write that or was I just seeing things?

A few nights later, I had a terrible nightmare. I dreamed that I sneaked up behind Professor Thomas and smashed him in the head with a rock. He fell to the floor with a loud thud. Then, I turned him over, sat on his chest and choked him with my hands until he stopped moving. Next, I took some rope, fashioned it into a noose, and slipped it over his head. I could hear the bones in his neck snapping as I hoisted him off the ground. The rope creaked back and forth as Professor Thomas’s lifeless body swung side to side.

The nightmare startled me so much that I woke up in the middle of the night. I fumbled toward the light switch and when I turned it on I saw a drawing of a hanging man sketched into my journal. The pen my uncle gave me sat on top and gleamed silently.

The next morning, when I went to school there were several students standing outside the building. Three police cars and an ambulance were parked outside. I walked up to a classmate, a fairly pretty girl with long, curly, blonde hair who was wearing a green cardigan sweater, and asked her what was going on. She looked at me, eyes full of tears, and said, “Professor Thomas killed himself!”

I blinked my eyes in disbelief and frantically asked, “What? Are you sure?”

She tilted her head to the side slightly and opened her arms wide. The next thing I knew, I found myself in her warm embrace. Her sadness somehow made the vanilla perfume she was wearing smell bitter. I thought it odd that she would hug me when I barely knew her. Then, she fought through her tears and said, “I know this will be hard for you. You were his favorite straight A student.” She became quiet for a moment and solemnly announced, “He hung himself.” Immediately, I pushed her back and looked at her in shock. I turned around and ran toward my car.

As I sped home, I just kept saying, “This can’t be real. It can’t be.” My mind was racing almost as fast as my heart was beating. What the hell had just happened? Did this have something to do with…me? I thought back on everything that had been happening – all the weird stuff that started just after graduation. When I got home, I ran to my room and grabbed my notebook off the nightstand. I flipped through the pages and then dropped it to the floor. They were all blank. Nothing I had written was there. I sat down on my bed and covered my face with my hands. My eyes were now stinging and wet with tears. When I opened my eyes again, I saw the pen my uncle sent me sitting there and shining at me happily. I picked it up and looked at it closely. The initials “AWH” were faintly visible, inscribed in a cursive font. Why had I never seen this before? Who the hell was “AWH?” Why would my uncle give me something like this? Determined this evil thing – this cursed object – was the source of all my problems, I tried breaking it in half to no success before finally taking it outside and throwing it into the trash.

When my mom came home, she asked me about Professor Thomas. I brushed her off as we sat there watching the news for any information. Honestly, I half expected to hear the police knocking at the door. Surely I would be a prime suspect if they had seen my drawing, my stories, and my…dreams.

That night I lay in bed with my eyes wide open, everything in the world going through my mind. How could I sleep at a time like this? I felt like I didn’t deserve rest. However, my body betrayed me and I once again found myself in a heavy slumber.

In the middle of the night, I was awakened by a stinging sensation. Something like this would normally cause me to sit bolt upright in bed and find out what was wrong, but I was just so tired. I lay there with my eyes closed. The thick blanket of silence that was draped over me fell when I heard a faint scratching sound. I strained my ears to listen closely. It was coming from my nightstand. Finally, I managed to open my eyes. I could see that my arm was stretched straight out. My hand was on my notebook and I was drawing something with my finger. As my eyes focused more, I could see that my fingertip was dripping blood. My eyes focused yet again and I could see large pair of hands, almost too dark to be seen against the darkness of my room. They were holding my hand and guiding my finger across the page.

Frozen with fear, my eyes moved slowly to the source of the hands. A massive, dark figure towered over my bed. Three horns crowned its head. Its twisted features were visible in hues of black and gray. The body appeared to be made of a thick smoke, impossibly both solid and wispy at the same time. Suddenly, it released my hand and peered into my eyes. Chills went through my body as a wicked grin revealed sharp teeth. The thing opened its mouth slightly to reveal yet a second row. It drifted backwards silently, toward the rocking chair and sat down, still staring into my eyes. The thing pointed a long, wispy finger at me before disappearing into a cloud of black, translucent smoke as the rocking chair creaked loudly.

Credit To – Escaped Null

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October 18, 2014
by derpbutt
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Forever

Every person has thought about it, dreamt about it. Immortality. The ability to live forever. To never die. People have searched for thousands of years for an answer. Some died trying. Maybe that was for the best. Living forever… something like that has a steep price to pay. But those few people, the ones brave enough- or stupid enough- to accept it, they are the ones to be feared.
Explores believed that there was a fountain of youth in Florida. That’s obviously untrue. It would have dried up in a place that hot. No the “fountain” is more like a pond or a small lake, only ten feet wide and a foot or so deep. Nothing big or spectacular. But when it’s in action, it can be a pretty creepy sight. You see, the price is blood for blood. You have to kill someone. You don’t have to know the person, though it is a little hard to lead a stranger into the woods. It can’t be an elderly person or a child. Or maybe it could, but it just wouldn’t be worth it. You need a person who has lived about half their life, but still has the other half remaining. So basically thirty to forty. If that person was destined to die in only like four years because of some disease you didn’t know about, jokes on you. You only get four years, and you get the disease. Cancer, Parkinson, anemia… Whatever it is, it won’t kill you. You’ll just be in horrible pain. But presuming that wasn’t your first time using the fountain, you’ll be used to pain.
People don’t live forever. Their bodies just aren’t designed for that. Drinking the water changes your body, and not in a good way. If you’re young, you won’t notice right away, but as you age, your body slowly begins to decay. Nails peeling off. Hair falling out. Skin putrid and mushy, like a rotten peach. And that’s just the outside. On the inside, I shudder just thinking about it. You degenerate and regenerate. You cough up blood and bile. The skin of your abdomen is black from internal bleeding. The itch from liver failure will keep you awake at night, adding to the bags and dark circles under your perpetually bloodshot eyes. You have to eat, but your stomach can’t process it. What you don’t vomit back up causes infections in your intestinal track.
But some think it’s all worth it. To never die. They think it’s a fair trade to trick someone and throw their half dead body into the pond. They watch as the body rots before their eyes like watching a time-lapsed video. And like a desperate animal, they drop to their knees and drink the bloody water, spitting out bits of skin like coffee dregs or lemonade pulp. And then they laugh, because in that moment, no knife, no disease, no living creature can kill them. Stabbed, beaten, poisoned… You are now invincible. No more racing against the clock. So what if your ugly or in pain? So long as you return to the fountain every few decades to keep making the exchange, you’ll never taste death.
I know what some of you are thinking. You think it’s not worth it. You think you could never kill someone. That you couldn’t live with the pain. But that’s all superficial, because deep down, you want to do it. When you hear the word immortality, you’re heart beats a little faster. Your pupils dilate in desire. You reason within yourself, things like “I’ll kill only bad people” and “I’m already in pain, how much worse could this be?” Had I not told you there was a catch, you’d already be jumping in your car to drive wherever Google maps told you to go. Even now, you’re still tempted. Maybe you and your lover can do it together and have your fairy tale forever? Maybe you were already dying or someone wants you dead? Maybe you just want to be different? Right now it’s all fun and games. But when you get desperate, you will come. You won’t have any other choice, and I will be here. Waiting for you. I never said I was warning you away. No. I’m inviting you, my friend. I will always be waiting; I have forever. When you come I will show you how it all works, and I will teach you how to power past the pain. I told you the truth because it won’t change your mind. You’ll know exactly how to find me when the time is right. And after you make the trade, you’ll be laughing at the unfortunate humans destined to die. Always a slave of time. But you will be free. And until then I will be watching, waiting. Only for you.
Credit To – Jade&Hyper

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October 18, 2014
by derpbutt
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User #13

If you had the chance to hear your loved ones for one last time, regardless of any unknown consequence, would you want to hear them? I thought I would never see… or hear my grandfather, the greatest influence over my life, ever again.

I have no Internet, landline, nor cable of any sorts in my house, so I would go to the public library to get internet access by using the computers there. And in fact, I’m typing this story on one of the computers there now. A couple of years ago, when my grandfather died, I was extremely depressed and had severe anxiety. After a couple of days of mourning over the loss of my greatest influence in life, I decided to go to the library to go on facebook so I could talk to someone.

Upon entering the library, I noticed how full it was, and almost all of the computers were used up… except for one computer. Computer #13. When I got on any sort of electronic device, I like to listen to music, but when I arrived at the spinning chair located at computer #13, There were no headphones. I looked around and saw that everyone had ear phones except for me. So I went to the check out counter and asked why there were no head phones there. The clerk responded by pointing at a sign saying…

“DUE TO HEALTH REGULATIONS, THE LIBRARY NO LONGER WILL SUPPLY HEAD PHONES AT THE COMPUTER STATIONS. HEAD PHONES CAN BE PURCHASED AT THE COUNTER FOR 3 DOLLARS”

A little annoyed, I reluctantly gave up three dollars and received a pair of shitty head phones. I arrived back at my station, plugged in my head phones and my library identification card’s serial number to log in, and I went onto spotify to play some music. I played my favorite song and listened to it for a good 30 seconds, then silence.

I wondered if I accidentally closed out spotify while opening up another tab to go onto facebook, but when I looked back at spotify I noticed something strange. The music was apparently still playing, but no music was coming out of the head phones. I thought that the head phones were broken because they were a really crappy set of head phones. I went to the counter to ask for a new set because the ones they gave me were broken, but when the clerk played
her music through the head phones, the music came out crystal clear. So I investigated to porthole that you connect the head phones into and it to was working fine, nothing looked wrong with it.

So i tried to listen to music again. I plugged in the head phones and put them on. I was about to continue my song when from the head phones… not from behind or around me… MY HEAD PHONES, I heard what sounded like heavy breathing and wheezing. Then I heard my name being called through the head phones and the voice sounded vaguely familliar and I couldn’t put my finger on it… until I heard…

“DO YOU MISS YOUR GRAND PAPPY JOE?”

There is only one person who I called “Grand pappy Joe” And that was my Grandfather. The only people who know that i call him that are Me, Both of my parents, and my grandfather. My parents were no where around, and I’m pretty sure that I didn’t say anything. I started to cry as the voice of my dead grandfather spoke to me, and told me his stories he would always tell me before bed.

A caring bystander, located next to me at computer #12 noticed me sobbing and she asked if I was ok. I ripped off the head phones, with tears running down my cheeks and I handed her my head phones and told her to listen. I told her that I heard my dead grandfather. She didn’t believe me because she snickered, but she gave a listen. As I watched her face go from smug, to pale white, to almost dismay, I realized that she too was sobbing.

I asked her why she was crying and she said that she didn’t hear the voice of a man, but of a girl, a young 16 year old girl named Sarah, who died in a car crash a couple of months prior. The driver was the woman sitting next to me. She survived while her sister perished in a terrible accident, from which, the angry girl in the head phones yelled at the woman sitting next to me, shouting that it was her fault that she was killed.

I haven’t gone to that specific computer since. I went back to the library, obviously, but never did I go back to that station. After the incident, I would hear bizarre voices, including my dead grandfather, and the voices of other deceased family members. They started as quiet murmurs, talking about their deaths, and they quickly escalated to violent shouts and threats. I can’t get them to stop. I haven’t slept in days cause I’m afraid that one of my deceased family members would kill me. Which brings me to the reason as to why I’m here, I need help! PLEASE, ANYONE WHO HAS EXPERIENCED THIS CONTACT ME! I’M SCARED AND DON’T KNOW WHAT’S GOING ON!!!!!! Email me at fritton66@gmail.com… I don’t know how much more I can endure. These voices are making me crazy! PLEASE HELP ME!!!!!!

Credit To – Thomas Fritton

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