Recorded Session (S.G.)Location: [REDACTED]
Date: May 17, 2016
Subject Number: 96-06-31246
Subject Name: [illegible due to watermarks]
Age: 21 (looks surprisingly young for his age)
Recording Supervisor: Dr. Ulric
(Recording starts at 9:20am. Audio and video feed functions properly. Subject can be seen clearly. Subject is heavily sedated and bound by reinforced chains, due to the incident on May 15, 2016. Subject is on its knees, head down, face covered by its hair)
(Dr. Ulric steps in the chamber with the Recording Operator, and sits on his designated chair, five meters away from the subject)
Dr. Ulric: Good morning, Mr. [illegible due to scorch marks] how are you doing today? (Subject grumbles and moans, still presumably under the effects of sedation) Excellent… (Turns to face the Recording Operator) How big of a dose did the security team give it?
Recording Operator: The head of security said his team gave it a small dose, at first, but was barely affect
From Child to Animatronic (Part One)Over twenty years.From Child to Animatronic (Part One)9 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
240 months. 1,043 weeks. 7,304 days. 175,316 hours.
Counting down to the ongoing present time, I remain trapped in this makeshift prison, looking onward from the stage I stood on for most of my entombed life. My limbs are an unwanted invitation to spots of rust, built-up grime, and various questionable fluids now caked and solidified. They are one of the very few things that have been stuck with me all these years, another being this fake microphone that's embedded in my right hand. My prison creaks with age, given very little sympathy by the owner's ignorance. It moves with a jittery and abrupt action with just enough maintenance to barely stand on its own two legs throughout the slow, miserable, tedious days. My eyes glow bright, reflecting the spotlight whenever it shines upon me.
I always welcome that spotlight, for it successfully obstructs my view from forcefully staring at the snot-nosed brats. They come in various forms, but they all act the same once they se
From Child to Animatronic (Part Two)I quickly rushed off the stage, moving as fast as these animatronic legs can possibly go, trying my best not to stumble and trip over the three-step stairs leading off the stage. I awkwardly shuffled through the abundance of chairs and tables in the dining hall, like an obstacle course in gym class. Moving too quickly, I've managed to get my right foot under one of the table legs, causing me to trip and fall to my knees. If I was able to curse under my breath, I would. I pushed myself back up, hearing the rusted screeches of the suit's mechanical limbs grind together as I bend myself back into an upright position. After that little clumsy episode, I immediately made my way towards the security office. I was expecting myself to catch the security guard by surprise, and hit that freedom button, where I would finally have the chance to escape from this wretched place. I scuttled out of the dining hall, and into the east hallway, hopefully ready to make one final pushed effort. However, juFrom Child to Animatronic (Part Two)9 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The Fear WithinI'm sitting on my chair, hunched over my laptop, the screen illuminating my face, showing disappointment in myself. My day has been very boring and uneventful, as what it has been for the past couple months. My average daily schedule would start with me waking up in the afternoon, overpowered with grogginess. I would slump out of bed an hour later, after I felt the slight burst of motivation to get out of bed. Many would expect that I get out of bed like a normal person, my feet making contact with the carpet floor. In reality, I just fall off my bed, the surprising experience never ceases to get old.The Fear Within2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
My next step on my to-do list of my daily life is crawl over to my door, lift myself off the floor, and with little to no attempt, turn the knob over, and plop down to the world outside. On occasion, I would imagine myself being a snake trying to open a door. I imagine myself slithering up the until I reach the knob, and once the door opens, I crash land right back to the familiar floor.
Letter to Sven GrimmokDear Sven Grimmok,Letter to Sven Grimmok2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It has come to my upmost attention that you have been acting very recklessly in your search for your adversary. Not only have you left a trail of blood and corpses behind you, but you have also left a large number of individuals that are now in a large assortment of asylums for the severely insane. In doing so, authorities from all around the world you call Earth is now on the look for who is responsible for this carnage and mayhem. They have not pinpointed you as their lead suspect, despite your sloppy mess of leaving noticeable evidence, in our eyes, of course. However, they have gathered information from numerous insane individuals about a young adult causing their broken sanity, with your description. Attached to this encrypted letter are military and police records of the information they have so far. And from the looks of it, all they need is your name.
With that said, I regret to inform you that you are hereby forbidden to enter The Market, or any supernatu
Sven Grimmok in: Cry of Fear [Introduction]Sven Grimmok in: Cry of Fear [Introduction]2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The time for justice and revenge is finally here. All my years searching for him, and I've finally found out where he hides away like the coward he is. I've climbed the highest mountains, dragged myself through scorching hot deserts, and swam through waters with temperatures that could kill a human within seconds. Through countless threats, and battles against elite forces, I found out where my most sworn enemy resides. Here I am, standing before the entrance to his diabolical lair, the entrance beckoning me to take the ascend into his Hell-hole of a tower. The sky takes an eerie red look, dark clouds forming from a distance and charging towards the tower. The air reeks with sulfur and burnt carcasses that are littered everywhere. The obsidian-colored tower stands tall and proud, putting other sky scrapers to shame. Each indentation and exterior decoration built by his demonic army radiates evil, and the sense that this will be my last time I would ever tread on this Earth. If my sacri
PerfumeIt happens at the most unexpected times. Walking down the street, or in a coffee shop, when it happens.Perfume1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
A whiff of perfume, just one scent, and I’m pulled back.
Back to another time, back to another place, back to her.
To the smell of her hair, the scent of her skin, the whiff of her perfume.
It’s enveloping, it’s intoxicating, it’s my drug.
I need it, I crave it, I want it more than anything.
It’s the scent of her, the scent of longing, the scent of memory.
It’s the scent of her and I sitting in a sandwich shop having lunch.
It’s the scent of us watching tigers at the zoo.
It’s the scent of me helping her study for the midterm she is worrying far too much over.
It’s the scent of love. The love that I offered, and the love she declined to take.
Then I’m back to the present, and the memory fades with the scent.
I wipe the tears from my eyes, and walk on.
Remembering the most beautiful girl I've ever known.
Remembering the smell
LondonI am walking down the streets of London on a cold autumn’s night.London2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Wishing that I wasn’t alone.
I’m walking down the streets of London on a cold autumn’s night,
and I watch people pass by.
I see friends laughing, and lovers embracing.
To them, I am nothing
Just a passing shadow, a shade.
But to me, they are everything.
They are the friends I wish would laugh with me.
They are the lover I wish I could embrace.
They are my envy.
They are the friends who betrayed me.
They are the lover who left me.
They are my anger.
They are the friends I left.
They are the loves I lost.
They are my regret.
They are the friends I could leave.
They are the loves I will lose.
They are my fear.
They are all these things and more.
I realize this,
a kind of epiphany,
as I walk down the streets.
But all the revelation in the world
If you don’t have anyone to tell.
I am walking down the streets of London on a cold autumn’s n
The OC Mental Torture Quiz 2AAAAAHHHH!!!!The OC Mental Torture Quiz 27 years ago in Humor More Like This
Choose 12 original characters NOW!
1. 12 has a burning question that you must address! What is it, and how do you respond?
2) 7 and 3 become partners in crime! What's their business, and does it succeed?
3) 6, 1, and 9 are attacked by a MOTHERFUCKIN' SHAAAAARK! What the hell happens???
4) 8 beat up 11's mom! WHY HE/SHE DO DAT?!
5) 2 died by overdosing on cabbage. 10 holds a funeral service that 4 promptly crashes. 12, in grievous fury, attacks 4 and decides to elope with 8 for no reason. 7 appears and steals all the Mountain Dew, while 6 and 1 decide to have sexy time (that can be whatever the hell your sick imagination thinks it to be). 9 and 3 dig up 2's grave and force feed the remains to 5 for kicks. Why is 11 eating my pretzels?
6: The Sequel) Why do I keep screaming, everybody?
7) 11, 6, 2, and 5 are forced into an S&M club and one of them has to be "The Gimp." Who is it?
8) Number 9, why do I keep asking distu
Exchanging Secrets For Songs “C’mon, just one song,” he pleaded, putting his hand on her leg as if that alone would sway her. He didn’t know how much it did.Exchanging Secrets For Songs2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Brandon had just found her guitar. After two years of dating, he knew so much about her. She had an incredibly intense love of music, green eyes that sparkled like the brightest of New Mexico’s stars, light blonde hair that fell into place at a whim, and a laugh that was so perfect in tone and feeling. She was a hot-headed 19-year-old dreamer, and she had the most enthralling and passionate way of viewing the world as something so different than the average person. Everything she did was fueled by an ardor and enthusiasm that Brandon could only view as something entirely exhausting, but it was by far her most unique characteristic.
He knew all these things about her, and he had only just discovered her guitar.
My heart is too heavyMy heart is too heavyMy heart is too heavy2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Like a stone in my chest
It weighs me down
As I search for rest
Like weights on my ankles
Like binds on my soul
It ties me down
It keeps me from being whole
And as I try to get up
From this prison of a bed
I’m pulled back down
By the demons in my head
It’s a struggle just to breathe
Like drowning in blood
Trying to stay afloat
In this current, this flood
This burden is too great
To bear by myself
If only someone would take it
So I could know how it felt
To be free of this weight
To be free of my pain
To let go of my hurt
To be released from this bane
Three BonesThree wasn’t particularly beautiful, or particularly smart, or particularly anything. She didn’t like her family, or her friends. She didn’t like the house she lived in, or the school she went to. She didn’t like her blue eyes. She didn’t like her blonde hair. She didn’t like the freckles bridging her nose.Three Bones2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
She didn’t like softball, but she played it anyway. She didn’t like her blue shoes, but she wore them anyway. She didn’t like her life, but she lived it anyway.
One night, Three went walking. She didn’t tell anyone where she was going, because she didn’t know. She didn’t even bother to say goodbye. She simply grabbed her black bag off the counter, and stepped through the door.
It was one of those blistering summer nights, where the sun leaves its shadow in the heat coming off the pavement. Within a few minutes, Three was wiping sweat off her brow. The sky overhead was black, washed of stars by the lights of the
My Thoughts on the PE013 Situation/edit/My Thoughts on the PE013 Situation6 months ago in Personal More Like This
-She has an ED page
-Her wikis have been banned
-ALL her accounts have been banned from dA (including sockpuppets)
-Her Weasyl: https://www.weasyl.com/~elizabeththehedgehogfa (suspended twice)
-Turns out she lied about having a boyfriend, said "boyfriend" wants nothing to do with her (so please, leave him alone!)
-new account Kaiya6363 (deactivated)
ERIN HAS BEEN BANNED FROM DEVIANTART!
NOTICE: This is a long and detailed journal.
A lot of you guys have probably heard of PrincessElizabeth013 (aka Erin) because people are going crazy right now, and here are my thoughts on the entire ordeal with some added information and facts. There will be many, many links to give more information and cite my sources from the information I have gathered.
Please Read this: PE013 Journal Update
The Swan SongAuthor's Note: This story is based on my story The Perfect Storm. However, this is only a one-shot and therefore these events never happened in the main story itself and never will!The Swan Song2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Something went wrong. Something felt wrong. The girl's senses slowed until she was seeing the world tilt as she fell forward onto the deck of the ship. She struggled to remember how to breathe.
She tried to think of how she got here. What had happened? She remembered the pirate coming toward her with a gun, hitting her over the head. That had only disoriented her, though. Something else had happened afterward that she couldn't remember. Her vision blurred as she raggedly gasped. There was someone she wanted with herů who was it?
Then she heard a shouting above the chaos of the fighting. "Felicia!" came the voice, closer now. Or was it further away? "Felicia! Oh no." The unknown face behind the voice she knew so well caref
My Birthday Is Rather SpecialMy birthday is rather special time of year. In the day, there are good wishes, parties and a good time to be had by all. In the night however, events tend to take a rather morbid turn…My Birthday Is Rather Special2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I prepared this year, as I always do: A chilled bottle of wine hidden out of sight and a pair of large candles; both of which would last the night.
I would then take a seat on the sparse wooden floor of my storage room and wait. Always I would end up waiting as the minutes ticked on by, for my companion was never early nor was she ever late. Indeed, she would only arrive precisely when she was meant to.
I peered into the shadows as time wore on by. The flickering light of the candles did little to aid my vision, filling it with the blissful pirouettes of the dancing shadows. I was always nervous during these times and indeed, I had reason to be. Most would have lived their lives without a spiritual encounter. Most should be glad to be a part of the boring world. For in a world without incid