Noises(WARNING: general horror)
Sometimes the things that scare us most aren't works of fiction. More often than you would think they are the things that we have lived through. I'll share with you, whether you choose to believe me or not, one of those tales.
It was summer the first time it had happened. I was home alone that night. I was watching a favored show when the noise started. It was so soft and subtle at first that I hadn't really noticed it. It wasn't until the commercial break that I heard that soft tapping more fully.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
I still remember the way it sounded. It seemed to echo off the walls in that dark room before finding me again. I naturally thought I had just scared myself into hearing it. After all it was a scary program I had been watching. I still felt terribly uneasy but I shoved the feeling aside when the show had started again.
I didn't notice the noise again for the rest of the airing. By the end of the program I was content again and comfortable. I could fee
pewDIEpie(Warnings: general horror)pewDIEpie2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It's just a game. I know that but I'm not so sure it makes as much sense as it used to. I wish I could pretend that simple phrase still brought me so much comfort.
I started playing these horror games a long time ago. I will admit that I'm pretty easily scared but it looked like fun. I didn’t see any harm in it. I was wrong in so many ways though. I understand that now. I know you won't listen to me. Not many people take me very seriously anyway. I am being serious though.
Don't play those horror games too much. When I started playing them it was no big deal. I would get a little scared but at the end of the day I could just turn off the monitor. In that simple movement all of my fears would go away. Every last monster or nightmarish world would disappear into reality. It was that easy.
I didn't start to notice a difference in things until recently. I would sit down and start to record but something was just...different. I would record like I normally d
Nothing is wrong with meI always used to hate when people looked at me. I wished to be invisible, tried to be like everyone else. It never worked. Why me? Whatīs wrong with me?Nothing is wrong with me3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Why do people always give labels to others? We have name, you know. Isnīt it enough? But how often do you really get called by your name? "Hey, you on left. Hello, pretty girl. Look, the nerds are coming." Itīs more like this.
And thereīs nowhere to run. Nowhere except-
I speeded my steps up so much that I was almost running.
What are you running from? Do you really think that you can escape?
When did it start? When I started to run? Was it in the kindergarten? Kids used to laugh that Iīm fat. Kids are cruel. They donīt understand how words can hurt. Itīs not their fault, they say kids would grow up. But do they? I grew and childish roundness disappeared. Yet kids kept laughing. Whatīs wrong with me? Why do they laugh?
Youīre a nerd. Bookworm. Swat. Why donīt you wear thick round glasses like other nerds?
AloneI’m all aloneAlone2 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
You’re far away
All I can hear,
Is the sound of me screaming your name
Here I am
All on my own
And all I can feel is
The warmth of your embrace
Where are you when
I need you the most?
Without you I just wonder around
Just like some pointless ghost
All the while just needing to hear
You, say that, im not alone
I’m all alone
You’re far away
Oh why can you just
Be with me tonight?
Here I am
Where am I?
There’s nothing left inside
And now I can’t see the light
I can’t, take this anymore!!
Where are you
When I need you the most?
Without you I just seem
To wonder around
Like some unwanted broken soul
All the while just needing to hear
You, say that, I’m not alone…
Just say that I’m not alone…
When I close my eyes…
I see you upon a cloud..
Softly calling out to me…
And some where
I know that I
Will never truly be alone
Never be, alone…
Cryaotic: Let's Play(Warnings: General insanity. Some language.)Cryaotic: Let's Play2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It was a difficult day today. It had been normal until Virus woke up. He usually sleeps a lot so I was a little more than just surprised.
I had been playing a game with a friend, Pewds to be exact. The day itself had been pretty quiet until we started a co-op game. I can't even remember what game it was but it was a scary one.
It happens sometimes that Virus likes to show when I'm really scared. I guess it's because he likes fear. Or at least that's what he always says. He once said to me that there was no emotion more delicious than fear. I still am not sure what the hell he was talking about.
Anyway, I was playing when we both got a good jump scare. It wasn't that big a deal but I guess it was enough to make Virus visit. Next thing I knew he was sitting next to me.
"H-h-h-how long ha-have you been pla-pl-playing?" He draped himself around me shoulders. I hate the way he sounds when he talks. His voice is just like mine but I always know i
Cryaotic(Warnings: General Insanity)Cryaotic2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Everyone has secrets. Sometimes they have secrets they don't even know about. They are the things we force ourselves to forget. I only wish I could forget them now that the voices have become quiet.
Everyone always seems to think that I'm just a normal person. I swear to you that I can be. It's hard sometimes though when they start talking again. You don't know what it's like to always have them watching you.
Sometimes I see them in mirrors. All of our pale white faces make it hard to know which one is which. And sometimes I can't tell the difference between their voices and mine. Do you want to know what they're like? There can be so many of them that I will only tell you about the main ones.
I call this one Mad. Why? Because he does things that don't make sense to me sometimes. He's wild and angry. He usually only talks to me when things have fallen apart. He tells me things. Tells me to hurt people. He tells me the truth about others, you know. He makes
Where good men go to die.Unwashed bodiesWhere good men go to die.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
bent over scorched earth
toiling as sweat draws rivers
in the dust upon their faces.
clinging to skeleton wrists
feet dragging and kicking dust
choking rebellious songs in their wake.
like a welcome blessing
drowning out the conscious pain
of being aware of their destiny.
deep in their minds
may cause a slight discomfort
reminding them of former lives lost.
like a tidal wave
drowning the echoes of pasts
they do not wish to remember.
shattered like jigsaw puzzles
no longer fitting the frame
like tatters of cloth upon bones.
falls upon scorched earth
exhaling as tears draw furrows
in the dust becoming their graves.
LatreuophobiaI wash off sick-sweet orange lipstick in front of a mirror as dusty as gothic romances. It tastes like oblivion, that is to say, like nothing my tongue can detect.Latreuophobia2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The door opens with a creak no private restroom could emulate. Some chick with blue bobbed hair and smeared eyeliner. I looked like that once. Ten years ago.
Getting the beer out of my hair is harder. Some men just can't take it when I'd rather they not kiss my feet or call me an angel or-
“Dayum girl, you look like a goddess.”
I gulp, taste of acid.
HeroFires consume the earthHero2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Reducing everything to nothing but
A simple plié of ash
War break out between worlds
Tearing entire families apart
Like a stone thrown into fragile glass
Anger fills thousands of hearts
Slowly breaking them under the weight of the pain
Something needs to change…
We need a hero!
Someone to save us from ourselves
We need a hero!
Someone to give us back out lives
A hero who can stand and fight
For what he thinks is right
And save us from the death inside
We need a hero…
To come before it’s too late
And change our somber fate
My True BeingI took a chance, I made a standMy True Being2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Looking all around, nothing to be found
Colors of this dream paint my pain
Fall, apart of the dusk, my heart
Things never seem to last, bitter is the past
You are beauty, the beast my pride
What is real is your taste, what is true your love
What kind of man am I, if I let you go away!
Take my hand and let me spoil you my way.
Untitled To become a writerUntitled2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You must have a boring childhood
and a creative mind
Store all your secrets
in thousands of empty journals
And scribble on your bedroom walls
Grow up late
And throw your life to the wind
Travel across the states
Drink Coke out of glass bottles from Mexico
And listen to good music with meaning
Smoke second-hand, once a week
Find your true love wearing skull earrings and a mohawk
Play classical guitar
Let your fingers do the talking
Never write about your childhood
Remember to love, forgive and forget, and know you are not alone in this world.
The Family Has Been InformedBullets that are too far away to hear back homeThe Family Has Been Informed1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
But words that will forever ring just as loud in my ears
Delivered from the lips of a uniformed man
The sympathetic sentence any mother fears to hear
I turn away as if ignoring his presence
Will make this unwanted reality go away
But he repeats that he is sorry for my loss
Those words are the last thing I remember of that day
I find myself looking out of the back yard window
On the swings in the garden I still see my boy play
I am bringing drinks out to him and his brothers
Under the sun, on the grass, on endless summer days
Those memories like photographs in frames on the wall
Now show my son with a wife and child of his own
A husband and father torn from their loving arms
In to the mass grave-in-waiting of a war zone
His old bedroom was already a shrine to him
Even before his blood soaked deep in to the desert sands
We waited for him to return from his first tour
Knowing the boy we’d said goodbye to would come home a man
The Real Art AttackAll alone now,The Real Art Attack2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
He begins his piece
An ode to those
Who could not appreicate
His ample art
With a strong steel gaze
His tools of trade
Brushes and knives
Scissors and paint
Red and running
He used to decorate
The Children's home
Thick red lines
On the walls
Drip down slowly
To flood the halls
Sweet smelling carpets
Dark stained and soaked
Remind him of
His works of love
Children he showed
The magic of art
But they would go
To forget his show
He tried to prove
The worth of art
But he could not move
Their cold, cold hearts
They just could not
What he could do
Or hear his pleas
So now he will
Let them see
The real art attack
Finally their blood
The floors will flood
Where their bodies
Line the walls
To be burned
In gasoline-ed halls
Where's Your Self-Esteem?"I'm a mess."Where's Your Self-Esteem?1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"A beautiful mess."
MalnoirMalnoirMalnoir2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It is very possible, as humans, to lose ourselves in a good book. It happens randomly, and can occur on the first page or the last, and often times breaking out of the hypnotic trance is near impossible. It’s an addiction of sorts, reading, and it’s also the greatest talent than mankind has every developed. But nowadays, as my body begins to give out from age and I find myself cooped in my apartment, reading to pass the time, I often wonder if the books can lose themselves in us. As we read them they stare back at us and watch and think and ponder and admire the human form. But we often find ourselves too enthralled to notice the words that seem to be talking to us, the sentences so bizarre that they couldn’t possibly be directed at a character in the book, but must instead be directed at an individual reader. I often wonder this as my body begins to fail me, as life begins to abandon my soul, leaving it for atrophy, and I can’t help but think of my olde
Simple Girl Complicated ProblemsI know I am not the daughter you wantedSimple Girl Complicated Problems1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
But at least you got it right the second time
My little sister found her place in your hearts
But I feel I have never really found mine
Why would you care to listen to your first born?
When you have a fresh blank canvas to create
All of those things that you wish I could have been
Had I not developed such negative traits
But those negative traits make me who I am
And shouldn't you love me without condition?
See my stubbornness as being strong minded
And when I talk, don’t interrupt just listen
I know I am not the daughter you wanted
I scowl but I still need your loving embrace
Though you barely acknowledge my existence
Apart from to tell me what I've done wrong today
But why would you ever want to talk to me
When an argument is never far away?
It’s the tone of your voice that hurts me the most
Rather than the words that you choose to say
To think I was once a baby in your arms
With such innocent eyes I could do no wrong
In many ways I
What Do You See?What do you seeWhat Do You See?1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
When you look at me?
Do you see an empty soul?
Something that just wasn't whole.
When you look at me...
Do you see my scars?
You probably think I'm stupid.
Or maybe... You didn't get that far
Do you see...
My tearful cries?
In my dark ugly eyes.
Just the empty lies.
Whatever you saw...
Look deep into my soul.
See my broken, shattered dreams.
Witness my unheard, horrid screams.
Feel my dreadful pain.
To have no one care.
To have no one there...
When you break down.
If I died tonight
I'd be lost...
Because I lost sight
Of your darkened light
Still HereAnd I just realizedStill Here1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
How long I've been looking up
And my peripheral vision
Made me think
I could fly
Because all I saw
Was the blue sky
And the artificial clouds
But it's about time
I looked down
And looked around
Because my two feet
Are still planted right here
On the damn ground
(I never actually let it go, I've just been living with it.)
UntitledThis feel...Untitled1 year ago in Emotional More Like This
It feels like someone's stabbing me and ripping my heart out.
Squeezing it and throwing it against a wall.
This pain... It doesn't want to stop.
It will never stop.
Why should it?
I know that it won't.
I know it.
It will stay in my heart.
It will always be in my heart.
Until I die.
Pain and depressions.
It's all I feel.
But I try to hide it behind my fucking fake-smile.
For my parents.
For my friends.
I don't want them to worry about me.
I don't want them to be sad, when I tell them how depressed I am.
How bad I want to die.
I want to hide it.
I bottle it up.
Try to ignore it.
Until the day comes where I lose my last nerve, when I can't to this anymore.
When it was too much for me.
When I break down and nothing can save me anymore.
Then please forgive me when this day comes.
And I know it will sooner or later.
I tried to ignore it.
I tried to be happy.
I tried to get well.
I tried to get rid of this pain.
The pain that destroyed m
CrimesIs it all rightCrimes1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
If I break down tonight
Is it all right
Hold your hand
Until we drift
Into the smoke of the sun
Because the day is now done
Is that all right
It’s the wrong time
The wrong time
It’s the wrong kind of words
I won’t use them on you
No I won’t use them this time
It’s the crimes I’ve committed against people like you
I can’t stay here for the fear that I will commit them against you
Is it all right if I
Pull the trigger on myself?
And I won’t have you
And I won’t let you
Make me want you anymore than I do
I’ll leave in the night
So you don’t have to cry
Is that all right?
Is it all right if I walk away from this?
It’s your choice if I live or I die
I swear I’ll try
But not this time
Because it’s the wrong time
Is it all right if I point the gun at my head?
Is it all right if I whisper my crimes to the dead?
Is it all right if I ask if it’s all right?
Just whisper and I
You`re so easy to loveYour smile,You`re so easy to love1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
invites to stay a while.
the touch of your finger tips,
soothe my soul.
Captivated by this vision,
Intoxicated on your Charisma,
contented with your love.
familiar with each other
in intimate relaxation
A poem by Suzanne karbach.
The Reaper ChildIt was a hot, dry day, as Toby walked among the markets, he was heading towards an arena, new fighters had come up recently, since he and his clan were short on capable fighters the arena was the best place to check. He sat down as the fighters were ready to come out of the cages.The Reaper Child1 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The announcer walked into the middle of the arena, "Ladies and gentlemen! Today, we have some very exciting news! We have two very brand new fighters today!" The crowd roared with cheer, "We have here to the right a member of the Dragos clan!" Once again the crowd cheered as a average height man walked out of the cages, wearing something close to a kilt, and a classic gladiator helm from the ancient Roman days, "This man hails from the Capitol, and he is the finest there has ever been this early in his training!" The crowd went completely insane.
"And to our left, is a young fighter hailing from the shadow clan!" The audience started booing as a young girl walked toward the middle of the arena, she wore a lon
What ive seenIve seen a man go mad before he burned aliveWhat ive seen1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Ive seen a woman rip out her hair before she died of lies
Ive seen a dog go rabid, before collapsing on the street.
Ive seen you watch all of this, through the window pane.
Outlast: Whistleblower possible curiosityAbove the knees, below the navel,Outlast: Whistleblower possible curiosity10 months ago in Horror More Like This
Sliced and sewn on Gluskin’s table.
To make a place to push inside,
The Groom will make himself a bride.
maybe this is obvious but this “verse” is repeate many times in a document you can find in Outlast: Whistleblower, it’s a referance of this quote:
"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy"
the quote is repeated many times in a lot of pages in the Stanley Kubrick’s film “The Shinning” based in a Stephen King’s novel