*Midnight Muse*Vampire's muse inspired poetry. Gothic writing.*Midnight Muse*4 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Posthumous RevengeThe shrinks talked it over, labelled her a ‘dracophile’ and said she had been taking a stand against the centuries of misrepresentation. It seemed as good a reason as any to unleash a flamethrower on the St. George’s Day parade.Posthumous Revenge11 hours ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Zwulf's NightmareHe was falling. Falling into a void, beseeched by terror. On the brink of madness, the voices never stopped; the whispering, the giggling, the arguing. In the blackness that swirled about him, their eyes gleamed hungrily, always staring, never blinking, the eyes, those eyes …Zwulf's Nightmare5 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
In the purgatory he was consigned to, the Vulpine man stumbled through the mists, their chattering voices filling his brain and rattling about his head, great simian whoops and cackles that rang throughout the void and out into the ether, him clutching his skull in a futile attempt to keep them from breaching his walls. Yet still they bored through his mind and toyed with his sanity, and he was helpless to stop it. Always schooled never to feel any fear, the former gladiator was now beside himself with it. His mouth dry and his ears ringing, he stumbled deeper into the black abyss, searching for an escape. It was then that the nightmare swirled and changed, and he felt the cold steel of the manacles bite dow
Waitcha - Part 2I leave my torch where it lies in the leaf litter: I don’t expect to find any batteries in the heart of the forest. The girl leaves the circle of light cast by the torch – the men are still scouting around, checking if I’ve been followed. She walks a short distance away, but I stop following her when I see the shapes silhouetted in the mushroom-light. Horns as thick and long as my arm twist their way up from a head which is held proudly at twice my height. A brush-tipped tail swishes through the ferns; hooves larger than my spread hand plunge into the mulch. Beyond this first creature I make out the shapes of five other forest antelopes, some laid down, some munching on leaves, all huge.Waitcha - Part 25 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
“They won’t hurt you,” the girl says, noting my reticence as she reaches out to stroke the muzzle of the closest antelope. “These are ours, they don’t mind people so much as the wild ones.” I hear the men crunching through the leaf litter towards us
Feeding TimeFeeding TimeFeeding Time13 hours ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
People often ask me if I'm proud of myself. They ask how I can live with myself, with the things that I have done, with the people I have hurt, and such. They often write nasty things to me, as if I'm going to read any of it. Those people make me laugh. They call me things like “monster”, but that ain't true. Sure, I hurt people like an art form, but that doesn't mean that I have terrible parents or that I have no social life. I only really do the things I do for the hell of it.
They're all just mad at me because of the things I did to that retard who can't spell, or that faggot who likes to talk about himself and his boyfriend too much, or that slut who got herself drunk and naked on camera, or that freak who draws those stupid ponies. Can you really blame me though? They were all asking for it, and hey, I wasn't the only one who targeted them. Say what you want but I'm not the one who slit
Insanity: Part 1 Have you seen those horror movies recently? Or those classic documentaries on the television such as The Haunting that are only there to run a chill up your spine? I have as well… countless times in the past, but I still find all of it to be pointless garbage. There is no feasible way that the dead could have any sort of contact with the living. Souls don’t just find some attachment to something that they endeared while they were alive, and then animate that object with the very essence of their spirits. No, not at all. They just move on. Either these spirits happen to stroll across the light of salvation or they find eternal damnation. That’s the end of it. It’s not supposed to be anyone else’s problem.Insanity: Part 11 day ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Do you know what I do believe in? I believe in mental illness. There are madmen in the mental hospitals who will mumble to themselves about how they have so obviously seen a spirit haunti
Sushi from a God pt. 1„Pour me another one, gieriger Sack!”Sushi from a God pt. 12 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Shouted Archon and hit the glass on Necros table. The other man showed him his middle finger and responded:
“If you'd stop insulting me in your native language, I'd maybe do!”
What looked like the beginning of a bar fight, was a normal business meeting.
“Am Arsch. So tell me, what is that little mission you have for me?” Archon wasn't even tipsy and his conversation partner always was amazed by the amounts this guy could drink, but he put the bottle away and got over to more serious business.
“You just achieved that mask,” said Necros, and pointed at the white thing the other one held in his hand over the whole meeting, “That's a huge gift. And a memory note, a warning for you and everybody around you. And 'cause of that, you need to prove your worth on this mission. Really.”
“No problem. Until now, there was nothing that could stop me from whatever you War Chasers ordered me t
Beneath the Eternal Garden (otgw fanfic)Beneath the Eternal GardenBeneath the Eternal Garden (otgw fanfic)2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
by Kit the Wolfy
Wirt touched the heart-shaped pin that was pinned to his night-colored cloak. It was one of the only sources of light on his person. The others were his luminescent eyes and his buttons.
He had been so stupid, hadn't he?
Trading his life for Greg's.
The Beast had done as promised. He had taken Greg's spirit and placed it in the Dark Lantern, allowing his body to become nothing more than another Edelwood tree. In return, Wirt had taken the Dark Lantern and fulfilled the Woodsman's role, cutting down Edelwood trees to fuel the lantern.
And now, centuries without number had passed, and Wirt had changed. He had not become any larger or smaller, but darkness hung around him like a perpetual cloud, keeping his body hidden behind the shadows. Only his eyes, the buttons of his cloak, and the heart pin gave off any light. He had grown antlers as well, antlers just like the Beast's.
Wirt had, in a sense, become the Beast.
After the fateful night wh
The Depraved Puppeteers5/6/2014The Depraved Puppeteers2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Madness, mayhem, erotic vandalism, devastation of innumerable souls— while we scream and perish, history licks a finger and turns the page."— Thomas Ligotti
"Not necessity, not desire-- no, the love of power is the demon of men. Let them have everything-- health, food, a place to live, entertainment-- they are and remain unhappy and low-spirited: for the demon waits and waits and will be satisfied."-- Friedrich Nietzsche
”There's prophet in the gutter in the street
He says ‘You're damned !’-- and you believe him…
He's got a vision but it shines out through your eyes
A world of hatred and fear…
He's felt what love means…
He wants to pay you back with pain
He lies to you he won't let you be
He's got your chains of misery
He won't be still till he's turned your key
He holds your chains of misery”