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Demon of the Soul

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[January 3rd, 1956]

I awoke to find a tingling sensation in my chest. It wasn’t the lack of heat, nor anxiety. I’ve never felt this type of thing.
I’m probably halluscinating, those horror movie marathons have been giving me anxiety lately.

[January 4th, 1956]

That feeling, it’s back. It’s carresing my brain! It feels like a monster! My head’s been pounding for hours, I haven’t slept. This emotion’s getting out of control quicker than expected! I feel like—-

[January 5th 1956]

I passed out last night, exhaustion probably. I can’t remember what I was going to say. All of it was a blur. I feel like I’m being watched now. It’s making me uneasy. My phone’s ringing.
-A minute passes by-
My boyfriend called, he’s coming over tomorrow. It’ll be a relief to see him, the commotion these past two days has been fast-paced and talking about it will be a relief. Well, it’s been an hour already, I’m going to rest.

[January 6th, 1956]

I.. I killed him.. My boyfriend’s dead. The tingling sensation took over my body! What is this thing! The blood is drying on my skin, the texture soothes me. The silken-red color is beautiful as well.

I ripped off my finger nails to see more blood. I can’t believe my eyes. I never noticed the world in such detail before. It’s perfection.

[January 7th, 1956]

I SAW IT! THE THING IN ME! I looked in the mirror before it shattered, catching a quick glimpse of it. The eyes of this figure were all yellow and looked evil, the body was transparent and released a black mist. The smile was see through, along with a hint of agony on the corners of it’s mouth.

[January 8th, 1956]

I had a nightmare of the figure. He was whispering what sounded like ‘I’ll be in you’. I think he’s dangerous. To end my journal, I will leave my words on this paper the last thing heard of me. I have a knife to my head, slowly piercing my skin, as the blood drips on the paper, My life has come to it’s end. I shall sacrifice myself to live as the spirit that haunted me.

You’re the next victim of the Shadow.

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9 Comments

  1. This just seems lazy. It seems like a lot of authors see journal entry-style pastas as cruise control for an easier short story.

    Unfortunately for this one, its inherent lack of a feasible plot is amplified by how nonsensical the whole thing comes across as someone’s journal.

    Also: Her reactions to and deductions on various situations are just baffling.

    Day One: I felt a weird tingle. Must be that movie I saw.

    Day Two: I have a headache. It can only be caused by monsters.

    Day Four: Killed my boyfriend. Also, broke a nail! FML.

    Day Five: I continue to update my journal, because…?

    Day Six: Had a weird dream!

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    • Day Seven: I see dead people. Also, I farted in an elevator.

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  2. …So….. You stabbed your self though the head? That’s not as easy as it may sound. I’m in agreement with Dave, it just seemed lazy and tossed together with little thought. It’s a decent idea and it could have been a lot better. Keep tying!

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  3. Well, that escalated quickly…

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  4. The cliche-as-fuck “UR NEXT” closing line just did it for me.

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  5. wow. that was truley spooky! (just kidding)

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  6. Did they even have enough horror movies in 1956 to have marathons?

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  7. Yes, they had plenty of horror movies. There’ve been horror movies ever since the silent era of film. And ’56 there were quite a few talkies horror movies, paritcularly from Universal and Hammer.

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  8. Slightly better than most pastas on here. Not that that’s saying anything, it’s still pretty shit, journal entries are overused, and the ‘YOU’RE NEXT’ ending rubbed the shittiness in my face.

    Speaking of which.

    CRAPPYPASTA BINGO, BITCHES.

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