About a boyShining on wet leaves are equally wet cheeks. The edges are ripped, torn just like her hoarse voice, ragged nails and shredded hemline. Relentlessly she has been calling his name, her voice has been swallowed by the forest as has the sun by the murky river water.
Her hair clings to her face, sticky with sweat. It makes a dense veil, shielding her from what she knows she will see. While she runs desperately, she peels it away, nails scratching her face. The trees mock her, their crooked backs shaking with laughter; the swaying of their thick branches reminiscent of a death march, but her determination is louder. As long as her heart pounds in her temples and pulses in her hands, she will not relent.
Breathing hard, she looks upwards.
There, suspended ominously is the moon. She reminds herself that she is aware of what is happening, but her heart flutters like a bird against her ribcage. Despite holding her breath to remain strong, she shudders with rage. If only she were a bird to caree
The EndermanNightfall. Nighttime. Night. Darkness. Stars. Moon. Wait... moon? Moon, round and bright. Crescent shaped. Moon. Sun? No, sun is gone. No sun. Good. Sun is bad. Sun is evil. Darkness is good. Darkness is perfection.The Enderman4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Now we build.
Bit by bit, block by block. Darkness consumes, but no matter. Moonlight enough, more then enough. So I build-- we build. They are not far, but I am alone. Black skin. White eyes. Long arms. Long legs. Tall, too tall. Building, always building (but why?)
Sandcastles (previous night). Wooden tower (not mine). Waves of the ocean--
OCEAN! AWAY get
away get away
get away get away
get away get away--
I escaped. Water far away. Keep it away. Building again. Towers, pyramids, anything, everything. Far away, they are far away. I cannot see them. Oh well, must build, they will be fine.
Small tower, getting larger. No joy, never joy, must build. Resources,
The Hole in the FenceEveryone knew about the hole in the fence. You went to the back of the park, where the grass gave way to packed dirt, and followed the fence east until you found it. You didn't even have to crawl on the ground -- you could just walk right through the space where the chain links had been torn away from the post.The Hole in the Fence4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
When Tina was little, too young to go to the park by herself, she asked her big brother what was on the other side.
"What do you mean? You can see through the fence already."
And he was right. On the other side lay more dirt, and then rocks that eventually led to the foothills. But there was still a mystery about it all. There were rumors of a cave, and of small blind animals that lived in the crevices of the rocks.
But Tina only went through the fence once. The very first time she was allowed to go to the park alone, she found the hole and went through it. She reached the large,
A Best FriendA good friend will be there for you when you cry.A Best Friend2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
A best friend will be there crying with you.
A good friend will keep your secret if you murder someone.
A best friend will have been your accomplice.
A good friend will let you commit suicide.
A best friend will be holding your hand as they jump in front of a train with you.
A good friend will mourn for you if you die before them.
A best friend will follow you.
A good friend will be at your execution to say goodbye.
A best friend will be in a second electric chair right next to you.
A good friend will say it's not a good idea to throw that explosive into the powerplant that's destroying natural habitat.
A best friend will count down to three, giving you the signal to throw it.
A good friend will ignore the fact that you kidnapped someone to torture.
A best friend will provide the chloroform.
A good friend will yell at your ex for breaking up with you.
A best friend will murder them
The Summons (Page 1)SLENDERMAN-The Summons (Page 1)3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
How to summon him: (This works better at night)
Go into the woods, and carve a circle into a tree and put and X through it. press your face gently against the tree and close your eyes. This may also be done on a blank wall with a thick permanent marker. (Turn out the lights)
Chant: Slenderman, Slenderman, all the children try to run,
Slenderman, Slenderman, to him its part of the fun.
Slenderman, Slenderman, dressed in dark his suit and tie,
Slenderman, Slenderman, you most certainly will die...
Then, turn around.
JEFF THE KILLER-
How to summon him: (Note this must be done in your bedroom)
Wait until midnight. Take a kitchen knife and go up to you bedroom (Make sre everyone in your house is not awake, close the door and make sure there is moonlight shining in your window.
lay down on the bed and cover yourself with the blanket(s). Hold the knife close to you, right above where your heart is. Close your eyes and Chant:
Jeff The Killer
Jeff The Killer
Jeff The Killer
Dipper Goes To Taco Bell - CommentaryDipper Goes To Taco Bell - Commentary3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
MOTHER-OF-A-FUCKING WARNING, THIS FANFIC IS EXTREMELY DISGUSTING, HAS NECROPHILIA PEDOPHILIA GORE SHIT CUM SEXUAL THEMES AND A LOT MORE, THIS MAY ALSO AFFECT YOUR LOVE FOR TACO BELL AND GRAVITY FALLS
Viewer Discretion is advised
Dipper goes to Taco Bell Here we fucking go
It was a normal day in Gravity Falls, Oregon. Well, as normal as Gravity Falls gets, anyways. Dipper Pines was reading his book, and Mabel, his twin sister, was wondering what he was doing. Mabel pay attention he's reading a book
"Dipper, are you gonna keep your nose buired in that strange book of yours all summer? You gotta go out, have an adventure!" Mabel exclamd. EXCLAMD
"Not now," Dipper said quietly. "I'm trying to decode this."
He was looking at a cryptogram that said, "XSLFA QBE QXZL YBII". They must be quoting someone satanically Dipper was offically stumped. He could not figure out what it meant. And it seemd very mysterious to him. H A I L S A T A N
Vanishing ActPerhapsVanishing Act4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Faked his death.
I Lost My GlassesI lost my glasses.I Lost My Glasses2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I thought I left them on the table, but I checked and nothing was there except something sharp. I have terrible vision; everything is so blurry, I can't make out shapes.
I move through the house, feeling around. My wife must be painting the walls. I see dark shapes on them, and they're wet to the touch. It's so quiet it the house...
I step on something wet and squishy. I really wish the kids would not bring the pool toys in the house.
I look in the kids' bedroom and say, "girls, have you seen my glasses?" No response, but I can see a lump under each of their blankets. They must be sleeping.
I check the bathroom, but the lightbulb went out. I feel around, and my hand touches the counter. I hate it when the kids splash water all over the place. It's thicker though... soap?
I go into the bedroom and see my wife standing near the window. Of course I could only see her blurry shape cause of my terrible eyesight. I'm getting old.
"Hunny, have you seen my glasses?" She didn
Just a Fashion?Emo. We've heard this term for years. I don't exactly remember when it actually started, but I didn't personally hear of it until my sophomore year. All we had was punk and gothic, but now gothic and emo are completely confused with each other. And now I'm ashamed whenever people accuse ME of being emo because they don't know the difference. Not even Southpark knows the difference.Just a Fashion?2 years ago in Emotional More Like This
The problem is, emo is associated with "emotion," but a depressed emotion at that. When people think of emo, they think swoopy haircut colored black, black clothing with occasional stripes, plaid, checkers, etc., hate for the sunlight, hating EVERYTHING, and writing depressing poems... oh, and cutting yourself! This is the problem...
There are people who do all these things that are not emo. I knew a very popular girl in 8th grade, Courtnie (yes, with an i), and she confided in me that she cut herself too, showing me her marks. Mind you, this was your stereotypical preppy ditz that was pretty much better tha
Forgotten ALICEI've always loved Pokemon. All the games...and I've collected Pokemon cards ever since I was a little girl. My favorite game, out of all of them, was the special Pikachu, Yellow version.Forgotten ALICE5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
My aunt gave me a Gameboy Advance for my birthday, when I was about 5. With the gameboy, I got 3 games handed down to me from my cousins: Harvest Moon, Tony Hawk, and a Pokemon Yellow version.
First I played Harvest Moon, practically the whole time my relatives came to visit. I loved it, I played it for hours. Finally, I beat the game and I was bored.
I popped the Pokemon Yellow into the cartridge without a thought. The game started up with Professor Oak giving his speech about Pokemon. I named myself ADA and went on. The game progressed completely normally. No glitches, no hacks. Finally, I got the Pikachu you run into when you walk into the grass. When it asked me to name Pikachu, I immediately called the Pikachu ALICE. I've always loved that name.
ALICE and me were always together. Never once did I
Bagger LemSometimes Lem wondered how they saw him in the moments just before. An old girlfriend, an ex-husband maybe? Their mom or dad, or maybe a long-dead Army buddy. They saw what they wanted to. All Lem knew was the look on their faces when their gaze met his, when their minds told them he was something other than what he was. They always wore this beaming smile, an expression of damn-it's-good-to-see-you. They kept that look as Lem ripped their throats out with his teeth and slopped up the blood with his tongue.Bagger Lem4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
He could tell himself they died happy, that the last thing they saw was the person they most wanted to see. It was comforting. He was lucky in that respect. Some of the others left theirs with looks of stark terror, or sadness. Lem never wanted to think about it.
He leaned back against the dumpster as blood steamed on his chin. His latest was in a heap at his feet. Some teenager, probably a runaway, selling himself on the street. He looked like hell even before Lem got hold of him.
His EyesIt has been three months since we heard from the mainland.His Eyes1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Speculation abounds. Some catastrophe has befallen them there: a plague has ended them, perhaps, or a war, or something so dreadful that we cannot even imagine it. We are left here to starve, slowly, as we wait for news and supplies.
At noon we saw a boat on the horizon.
Through the spyglass we saw that its occupant was a lone boy, and that his skin was patterned with lesions. Sula saw something in his eyes, he said, though he would not speak more clearly of it; but he was so shaken by the sight that he begged us to shoot the boat down at a distance.
We were without choice but to obey. We pitied the boy, perhaps, but if he carried a plague – as indeed he must have – any show of mercy might have doomed us. We fired the cannon as soon as he came within range.
At nightfall we burned the flotsam brought in by the tide. There was no sign of the boy's body. With luck the current carried it away, to be eaten by the fish.
My Last RideI've looked forward to this day since the ride opened. I've always loved roller coasters, but I'm afraid of heights, so I never went on the ones with loops. I slowly started riding bigger coasters and... well, when this opened, I knew it was time.My Last Ride2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It's the biggest roller coaster in the world, and this is the only park it's been built at. I had to travel from the United States to the United Kingdom, and it took all my life savings, but... I won't be needing that money anymore. I told myself I'd ride this coaster without second thought, no matter what the cost.
It's not for everybody. In fact, many are horrified by it. Hell, when I saw the scale model of it, my heart leapt into my throat and was struck by excitement and fear. I never thought it'd be built in my lifetime... it's time to face many things; my fear of heights, my fear of loops, and most of all... it's time to face death.
The Euthanasia Coaster begins with a 1600 top, and the ride up is extremely steep. It's so steep, you'd f
Wild Vampire Chase I was twenty-two when I started chasing her. I'm thirty-two now, but still a few days shy of the ten year anniversary. She was my friend, the only one I had. She begged, pleaded to become one of them only to turn on the one who made her, killing him with one swift blow that tore his head from his neck. I, by her, was offered the gift of immortality, but saw that it might corrupt the mind, and tried to kill her, much as I didn't want to. She gave me something to remember her by before escaping. A small, curved scar on the side of my neck that was not intended to kill. A souvenir to always have with me. In the back of my mind, I'm glad she got away. I'm glad I didn't have to kill my friend.Wild Vampire Chase2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Throughout the years, I followed her narrow path of blood. She was careful, but left me clues. On purpose, it turns out. She left me some friends to play with sometimes. They weren't nearly as strong as her, so my playmates easily became fertilizer. At least they decay fast e
Six Word Story - MacabreBlood is washable with cold water.Six Word Story - Macabre5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Painted in pastelI glow a golden strength,Painted in pastel5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the darkness sprinting away
to stand at the fraying edges.
I glare at it menacingly,
daring it to attack.
A supernova blinds me,
sapping my strength.
You love the sight
of a defenceless warrior,
scared and confused,
crouching to the ground.
But I stand tall,
shattering your hold.
I shine brilliant blues,
swallowing your darkness
Three Months and 25 Pounds AgoIt's hard.Three Months and 25 Pounds Ago4 years ago in Letters More Like This
10 ways to annoy Luis Sera10 Ways to annoy Luis Sera10 ways to annoy Luis Sera5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
1. Say 'Leon's a little rough, don't you think?'
2. Ask him if he's equipped with a nuclear missile (ready for launch).
3.When he mentions the 'big cheese', ask him if he's the 'big sausage'.
4. When he asks you for a smoke, ask for a joint.
5. Ask him if he's a 'tenta-sexual'.
6. Tie him up and lock him in Leon's closet.
7. Let him out and say 'You kinky son of a bitch, I was wondering when you'd come out. Run.
8. Give Ashley his address and video tape it when she molests him.
9. Introduce him to your friend Don Pedro, who's 'great in bed'.
10.Ask him if he always spends his free time being injected with foreign bodily fluids.
2. Lem's MelodyThe Mission's security gate wouldn't open all the way. Some crackhead spent an hour slamming himself into it when Sister Constance wouldn't let him in after dawn, so now the rail was bent. Lem had to turn the rolling bag sideways to fit it through the door.2. Lem's Melody4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The battered TV shrieked at Lem from its cage on the wall. Some stupid show about college kids scaring themselves looking for ghosts in abandoned mental hospitals. The day room - Lem never got tired of the irony - was mostly empty, except for Melvin in the corner mumbling to himself, Sister Constance glaring from her desk behind smudged, bullet-proof glass, and a girl.
It was the girl that caught his attention. Couldn't be more than fifteen-sixteen, and she turned her head to the floor as Lem studied her. Her hair was purple on one side, orange on the other, with roots showing muddy blonde. Pale as milk, except for the bruises, and there were a lot of those. One knee bobbed up and down, causing one of her worn-out Converse sneakers
AerosolIt has been a day and a half since the crash, and I have found a cabin. In some ways, this is a relief. I don’t know if I could face another night on the mountain without shelter. Outside, a fire does no good: the heat simply travels upwards. However, this place also raises some difficult questions. I estimate that I’ve put eight miles between myself and the crash site. I don’t know if this will be enough. It occurs to me that I don’t really know anything.Aerosol2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The survival manual recommends staying with the plane. It explains that this affords the best chance of rescue. It explains that the wreckage offers warmth and shade. It explains that seventy percent of pilots who stay are located within three days, while seventy percent of those who leave are never recovered. It does not explain what to do if the payload begins to leak.
Jenkins shouted after me as I ran, said it was our duty to defend the aircraft. I tried to warn him about the spur of wood protrudin
Your StalkerWhy hello there. No need to tell me your name...I already know, in fact I know quite a bit about you. I like to follow you...all day and all night. I'm always behind you, but you can't see me. Everyday I see you wondering around your house, I also like to follow you in your room. I watch you sleep every night, and watch you walk about everyday.Your Stalker5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I really like you.
I like you a lot, I would love to know you more. Although I already know everything about you, I'd like to actually talk to you for once. That's why I created this text, so I could chat with you...I'm watching you read it right now. You look somewhat confused, and I think I saw looking around the room just now. There's no reason to be afraid in any way, I just like looking at you...
You look really nice.
That's right, Peek-a-boo I see you, sitting at your computer right now. I see a little flicker of fear on your face as well, you're not scared are you? Feeling a bit uncomfortable? A little...uneasy? I'm in the room with you y
How to Survive a CreepypastaStep one: Never ignore your instincts.How to Survive a Creepypasta2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Was that movement at the corner of your eye? Maybe you heard something out your window? Someone behind you sounds like they're walking a little too quickly for your comfort...
When something inside you is telling you something is wrong, chances are, something is. Lets call this our survival instinct. Animals have them, and they don't ignore them. They act. The difference with us humans is that we doubt ourselves. We tell ourselves we're being paranoid, that it was nothing. “It was just the wind”, “It was probably an animal”, or, everyone's favorite: “It was just my imagination.”
Eventually, it comes to a point you're in denial. You think that if you ignore it and pretend it's not there, then it'll go away. You've given your enemy the upper hand.
Step two: Don't give in to paranoia.
With step one in mind, it's important not to become constantly afraid. That fear and paranoia only feeds what it is yo
Sound of RainThink for a moment: Is the sound of rain, truly what you are hearing?Sound of Rain2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Imagine this, you're sitting there in your underwear (don't try to pretend you're not). It's raining outside and you've been browsing the internet for the past seven hours. It's already 3:13 a.m. in the morning and a sudden hint of nervousness seizes you. It's silly really, you don't have to attend school, nor do you have work in the morning, but somehow you still feel as though you should force yourself into bed.
You crawl under the covers and bring the blanket up to your chin. Your mind runs over all the things you've done today and you stare at the ceiling, trying to find a comfortable spot on the bed, listening to the sound of rain as it goes pitter-patter on your window. Yet, somehow, the rain sounds different tonight. You feel a strange sinking in your chest and a rising sensation of fear.
The pitter-patter no longer sounds like gentle droplets of water hitting the glass. It sounds more
The Suicide PhotographerI am a photographer.The Suicide Photographer2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
People hate my work. You may ask why, but when you see my shots, you'll understand. My work is very controversial. I am sadly proud of my photos, for I may be the only one who's adopted this style.
I capture photos of suicide.
No matter where I go, I carry my camera with me, ready to shoot anything that may happen. There's surprisingly a lot of suicides in this city and the next city over. I've gotten beautiful shots.
The most common ones are those of people jumping from buildings. Of course, there's usually a crowd of people pleading for the person to come down, so I know right away what I am about to get. I stand to get a good perspective, hold up my camera, and snap the photo right as the person plunges to their demise. I take a couple one after the other so I make sure to get the perfect shot. People surrounding me shout at me and call me heartless.
On the contrary, I am more caring than them. That person wanted to end their life, so they had a perfect reason t