Creepypasta: A Glorified PrisonCreepypasta: A Glorified PrisonCreepypasta: A Glorified Prison in Short Stories More Like This
Hello there, you seemed surprised. Maybe you were like a lot of people these days who expect a big black nothing when they shut their eyes for the last time. An eternity of empty nonexistence is a dream that has been forsaken to us. Forgive my bluntness, but now you are in Hell. And barring unforeseen circumstances you will be here a while. So you’d best get used to the fact.
Hell is, at its most essential function, nothing more than a glorified prison. As for me, I have been here so long that I have forgotten my name. I have even forgotten what sin or sins originally damned me. But since I have no name, that also means I can take any name I choose. So, forgive the melodrama, but call me Ishmael.
Sorry, I’m terrible, aren’t I? I couldn’t resist making a reference to a literary work that’s about man killing God. You understand I’m pretty bitter towards Him at this point. I haven’t learned a thing…not that He
Jeff the KillerJeff the KillerJeff the Killer in Free Verse More Like This
This is what I see through eyes I can’t shut
And this very colour flows through each vein
Everyone looks the same inside, but
In their souls they are like me, we all cause pain
This is the natural state of the world
I hate the weak and prey on the strong
Every great plan fails before it is unfurled
I will see this through, I will kill every wrong
This is how things will be when I’m done
With no one left there will be no death
I only scare them because I've already won
My blade has a hypocrite as its sheathe
A Haiku from MaskyI love SlendermanA Haiku from Masky in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Almost as much as cheesecake
Great, now I'm hungry...
The Devil Made Me Do ItBroken stone and wood.The Devil Made Me Do It in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
A lone crow in wait for food;
This temple, ruined
A Place for our HeadsA Place for our HeadsA Place for our Heads in Free Verse More Like This
There’s no mystery, it’s been contrived
They look down on me and despise
All my thoughts hop from page to page
My mind is yours, the world’s a stage
Punish me for their wretched sins
In this arena the dead man wins
Peel back the skin, don’t look away
I would hang myself but the rope has frayed
Erasing all those halcyon times
Uprooting all these warning signs
I’m going down, in flames I hope
My dust I breathe, on ash I choke
You’re just killing time so it’s killing me
Inner voice telling me to unlock the key
Pessimistic rhymes for all to hear
I can read my thoughts, do I seem the seer?
Now I’m tied to my bed for a reason I’ve forgot
If they forget I exist, will my soul also rot?
It’s nighttime, I think, so they shut off the lights
I hear my roommate screaming at his inner eye’s sights
Hour by hour, the minute-hand rolls by
They say I’ll never be well, so I won’t even try
Planetary QuarantinePlanetary QuarantinePlanetary Quarantine in Free Verse More Like This
Bathing in the sickness, dancing in the dusk
Moonlight blotting out the stains
Ichor transfusions through my veins
I am dead and buried, nothing but a husk
Keepsake of melancholy things
It only hurts when you look at me
I don’t blame you, none could foresee
These are the sleeping stars night brings
Bodies buried six, seven, eight foot deep
Falling back and getting up
Realize nothing, just give it up
I feel my unmasked tears begin to seep
This life, this new spring I cradle within
Realization comes too late to realize
My own plans are laid out to despise
I never ended, so where do I begin?
Time is at standstill, this other world is ours
Space means nothing here, the fault in our stars
Creepypasta: SpectaclesCreepypasta: SpectaclesCreepypasta: Spectacles in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
William Shakespeare. Once the toast of both high and low English society, now loathed all across North America by high school students forced to learn about his plays. The man was a bit of an eccentric, as geniuses inevitably are, and that’s perfectly okay in your books.
Because you’re a little off-kilter too.
Won’t your class be freaked out when they discover you had a real human skull in your hands during the monologue scene of the upcoming school play. Okay, so technically you don’t plan on telling them, not even afterwards, but if there was ever an event prompting you to gain possession of a legit skull it was this. Just like Hamlet himself, you’re disturbed, relatively paranoid, and prone to mood swings. But you’re no murderer. Not yet, at least. But seriously, it’s not worth killing just to gain access to a real skull.
No. No, you know where you can go to get that.
The other kids at school sometimes talk abo
PoltergeistLife, an empty room;Poltergeist in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Call once, call twice, call again
No one will answer
GuiltWater, blood, gasolineGuilt in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Nothing can make the stain clean -
This face is not mine
The Nature of LeadershipMy friends,The Nature of Leadership in Philosophical More Like This
I come before you as a Captain, but one who has learned from the ways of the past. I address you now to speak both of myself and of the belief that I hold for the future. We are humans, creatures of free thought and free speech. We gather in groups, connecting with those who are like-minded. We form these bonds because it is impossible for us to live alone, but even then, we think and act as freely for that is the gift of our being.
Yet even such gifts can be abused at times. Often we do not realise that the weight that our tongue may be enough to sink another in grief. Each word that we speak must be chosen carefully, for the power of the speaker compounds the weight of his speech. Some, carrying their first spark of greatness, might take this too far and abuse their strength. I was one of those individual, if you had known me in my early days. I spoke carelessly, without concern for any other and I viewed this as my given right. Indeed, I was shown to be very wrong.
I Am The Mighty!I Am The Mighty:I Am The Mighty! in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I remember this tale, from a time of brutality; from whence I would have gladly murdered a soul. For the fragile seek to transcend their pain, but ever are they poisoned by it.
This man I remember had called himself ‘Mighty’ and I watched from the stands as he delivered his speech. “You are the fools!” he cried to the audience, “for even as you mock me, I am whole. Through tragedies I've suffered, through pain I persevered. I am a greater man and your words may never hurt me.”
Fool, is what I thought, for he seemed to take pride in this display. The crowd cheered him on, patting him on the back, but to me he lacked conviction. For I saw through the sham in his boast and I knew that his demons would haunt him again. This time a little earlier than needed.
“Yes my friends, I am a damaged man. I have been broken before and my spirit shattered,” he continued to ramble, as I drew close to him.
DesperationI wonder how many days you've spent feeling lost.Desperation in Free Verse More Like This
Thinking that you're going somewhere.
Never actually getting anywhere.
You look at the same four walls over and over again.
You can paint them in different colours,
But you know they're still the same.
And you convince yourself that you're making progress,
Nothing's changed, but you're making progress.
Things are getting worse, but you're making progress.
And then you wake up and realise,
That shit has hit the fan...
Suddenly you're forced to do the things you couldn't,
The kind of things that you were never comfortable with.
And you find out you can do them.
You find out that the only reason you couldn't,
Was because you were afraid to try.
It's hard - trying to take that first step.
It's hard - trying to convince yourself to take that chance.
Open UpFrustration expands my horizons,Open Up in Free Verse More Like This
And allows me to see
beyond the limits of my cave.
What once was a wall
I sought to tear,
Has become a world
I need to brave.
And what of those
I'll leave behind?
Someone has to bang on that cave.
HumanYou claim that you are an intelligent being,Human in Free Verse More Like This
And yet you are incapable of following the logic of a machine.
You cannot simulate the variety of outcomes that have already been calculated
And you are not capable of presenting a rebuttal that does not rely upon emotional buzzwords.
You are neither objective nor impartial;
You are weakened by your present desires which bias your situational judgement.
So tell me this, based on what I have already presented:
If you are so keen on hampering your own kind,
By creating a stressor free environment where everyone is considered.
How then will you adapt to the harshness of a world outside your own?
I will give you time to think on it;
I am aware that you need it...
The IndividualYou wear your skin, with mask of sin,The Individual in Free Verse More Like This
A spiderweb of lies. Of "individuals",
Breaking ties, alone at last
They seem to hide, a fixation of vanity...
I am the "individual"!
This is my golden ritual,
Refuse all that is me,
A web of lies I be!
But can you see, what you've become,
Showing these scars made by none-
Other than you?
They were made just for you...
They were made just by you...
Made to be pitied too...
You are the "individual"!
Lies are your golden ritual,
Refuse what you should be,
To live with agony!
IndoctrinationLet me tell you this:Indoctrination in Free Verse More Like This
The only thing that I could ever fear,
Is their freedom.
Because when they discover,
That they have inside them,
The purpose, power and strength,
To be anything that they choose.
Our lies and our lives,
Will simply be over...
Now repeat after me:
To go against the Chantry,
Is to go against God.
Real Life StoryI remember playing fool thinking my life was easy.Real Life Story in Free Verse More Like This
I remember walking down along the path laid before me.
But what do I do now when I know that the path has changed?
And all I'm left with is paper dreams; blood, sweat and tear-stained!
I regret being a foolish individual,
I never worked hard enough to be admissible,
Despite what my folks always did for me,
I always took it for granted like an idiot; thinking my life's free.
But now I've come to terms with the pain in front of me,
Even if I wish I was a better man, that's shit that I can't be.
But if you think I'm just going to sit here crying;
I won't be the last ragdoll that the lord left lying.
If all I have is my tongue, then that's what's left to work,
I'm scared about the future, those problems hurt.
But I know what I've got is what I'll put on this paper,
So I won't be putting away my tomorrow for later.
Looking To The SkyLooking To The Sky:Looking To The Sky in Free Verse More Like This
Sweet yearning from the depths of my soul.
Blessed is my mind that drinks of this knowledge.
Though stubborn at first, rejecting its hand.
I have learned to accept it as my only salvation.
From the streets which have long been my home.
I look to the skies and the clouds above.
Through my skills I shall rise, so I may catch the stars.
Even if the journey might be as heavy as stone.
-Chen Yuan Wen, 16th September 2013, posted by Co-Captain Hayes
The Misadventures of ChenbeardA humorous adventure filled with accents, jokes and every single reference we can possible get away with!The Misadventures of Chenbeard in Short Stories More Like This
Story One: He’s a Pirate After All…
…and so it came to pass that the once great pirate captain, Chenbeard the Mighty, found himself adrift upon the lonely currents of the ocean. Having been exiled from his crew, mostly from drinking too much of the rum and stealing underwear, the captain found his fate taking a rather sad turn. He had been knocked unconscious, bound and gagged, then tossed unceremoniously into one of the many dinghies that adorned the sides of the Sangue Padre.
Ordinarily, an exiled captain would find himself tossed into swirling currents of the sea. It was not uncommon for many of them to lose their lives in this fashion, but those within the crew that remained loyal to him, voted instead for a more humane end to his career.
Thus we begin the tale of Chenbeard the pirate, once a great man and now a mere hobo of the seve
RA TV script episode oneRA TV script episode one in Sketches More Like This
Greetings, fans of Romantically Apocalyptic
Today, we present to you the script for RA episode ONE as a pilot episode, composed by several writers from the RA production team (Rythmear, Oddshot and Alexiuss)
Because this is a 100% DeviantArt production and we have NO budget or corporate support- it is now up to YOU whether this episode and further episodes will be released.
I will now proceed to outline the costs of filming this episode and explain how you can help out, so I can release this episode for everyone here on DeviantArt, and make MORE episodes in the future, using already purchased props to make this the FIRST DeviantArt hosted, and fan sponsored TV show.
Renting a van for a week to get to filming location (abandoned hotel): $500
4 character outfits, props and sandwiches to feed actors for durat
.i will not. in Free Verse More Like This
love for fear
and if a
ivy, i'll cut it
.does a weed. in Free Verse More Like This
why it isn't
does a tree
ever feel like
its roots are
.i did not expect. in Free Verse More Like This
for you to pour out
nor that i would be
in the flood of it
.sometimes. in Free Verse More Like This
in my head
curl up in
the beat of
.some people are dead. in Free Verse More Like This
long before they die -
there's just no burial
for the spirit
What happened to your voice?your thoughts are jackals, yetWhat happened to your voice? in Free Verse More Like This
their twilight howls sound like cries
in your head;
you have been finding yourself
while trying not to sound so
so, Dear Heart,
you can write.
you stopped wearing your words
on your wrist
& all that hair you chopped off
this day a year ago, refuses
to grow back.
you turn, try to decode
your encyclopedia of powerful
spines, tearing at the pages
you wrote them upon.
angry, You were so angry.
nothing but an untamed, wild thing
you leave collared & quiet
in a cage.
It is 9 in the afternoon& I have forgottenIt is 9 in the afternoon in Free Verse More Like This
how to write in poetics-
tongue kissed & gaping like
a siren missing from her sea.
I have been coughing up black
for days. Unable to clean the taste
from my mouth, these broken
typewriter keys sewn into my
fingertips scream something fierce.
They ache with longing
to tell of a story
that left them
for a better high
a story that never deserved
to make a home under the skin,
to crawl breech through an
-& out through the wrists
of young girls much too ripe
to fall from their beds.
I am so damn tired
of looking over railings
& wondering what
it would feel like
roadkillYou told meroadkill in Free Verse More Like This
I was November’s ambrosia
sweet on your tongue.
But now all I feel
is discord, sieging
the 3,000 year old tree
inside of me.-
Centuries to grow so tall
9 mere minutes to
You no longer smile anymore.
And I am here,
silent as stone-
the carcass of a dead...
hoping you don't leave me
on the side of the road.
Dear Poetry,You will find out that I am not a strong person. Dragons do not make a home beneath my skin to hoard their treasured princesses. I am not that lucky. For I have misplaced collarbones just as quickly as I’ve misplaced hearts, a pulse still rhythmic against my fingertips. I am a monster of words, devouring Cummings and Plath with no ounce of self control left in my body. I promised myself this weight would not fall for the sharp edges of stars ground into your knuckles. But, write air into my lungs, poetry. Give this wild thing a reason to learn the definition of tamed.Dear Poetry, in Letters More Like This
Write me a poem, and I will promise to fall in love with you, slowly and then…all at once.
Sad poems need pretty titles.April was lungs weak of blue, andSad poems need pretty titles. in Free Verse More Like This
scalpels held in heartless,
You told me you were no coward
that the seas and the oceans
whispered in your ears and told you
only the bravest of men
deserve to kiss their beds.
May passed too quickly.
No time for mourning
when I gained ten pounds
of pure muscle
holding up your stars.
People asked too many questions.
People told me I was strong.
One day in June
you woke up to a skeletal frame
that wasn’t yours and the biggest,
strongest ribcage I’d ever seen.
I had cornfields in my eyes;
You misplaced your anchor
and your mind.
How to love a poet: Expect them to be flawed,How to love a poet: in Free Verse More Like This
a field of wild flowered-
& an inability
Love them anyway.
Know that when they look at you
they are noticing the little things.
Bones mend, but tell no lies.You have cataloged your scarsBones mend, but tell no lies. in Free Verse More Like This
like your body is a library-
to be read through &
You think of
all the little boys
whose greedy fingers
You are angry-
cared for you
They left you
on a shelf
to gather dust.
should you ever
Scarificationblood oranges areScarification in Free Verse More Like This
slice them open
without a moment’s
their crimson juices
licked from our lips
& that is what
i want to be. -
i sucked from
your mouth -
along my spine.
- i was cut open
For I'm a graveyard lurker.my veins are blueFor I'm a graveyard lurker. in Free Verse More Like This
with restless wanting;
your ghost fingers
at this untamed
stop loving me
like that, darling,
kissing the stars
from my throat.
if i can’t have the sky,
i will howl my laughter
to the earth,
planting a home
in the dirt
beneath my claws.
One Like WaterWe speak.One Like Water in Free Verse More Like This
We all live.
We all die.
So tell me again.
make us so different
from each other?
A Prayer for the Scar Mappedi hope you find someone who loves you for your scars.A Prayer for the Scar Mapped in Free Verse More Like This
your scars are the battles you fought
alone, scared, broken at midnight
navigating the map of your lost soul,
wearing nothing but threadbare dreams,
with demons who would not die,
and who could not rest.
and still strong, you fought on.
i pray you find someone who loves you for your scars
your scars will tell the stories your lips cannot.
your scars will reveal secrets your heart cannot.
your scars will create meaning to the little things you do.
so find someone who loves you for your scars.
this is all that I can pray for, for you
and for you,
and for you...
The Girl Who Was Afraid To BeShe speaks to me fondlyThe Girl Who Was Afraid To Be in Free Verse More Like This
of passions and talents,
of guitars and stars,
with such breathless intensity
then stops short and
for speaking at all.
All because somewhere in her life,
someone she loved broke her heart
her beautiful words
and telling her to
keep it down,
People aren’t born sad.
We make them that way.
The JokeThe first joke is when they tell you to be strong for everybody else after your father leaves for the fourth time.The Joke in Free Verse More Like This
The next joke is when they tell you to stop being sensitive when the children at school choose to hurt you for being differentstrangeodd.
The wrong joke is when they tell you to be quiet after the beating your mother has given you has bloodied your face and you can't see through swelled shut eyes.
The funny joke is when they tell you to shut up when you stand up against the man with lifeless eyes who tried to make you as lifeless as himself.
The unaware joke is when they tell you that you should have defended yourself when three men come at you in a dark alley.
The painful joke is when they tell you you should be grateful that the man who raped you didn't kill you as well.
The angry joke is when they tell you that you are wrong for existing because being gaybilesbiantransexual is a sin.
The ignorant joke is when they tell you to be less provocative with your man when he pu
Another Language called EnglishI took your adjectives for granted. There was something about the way you skipped over your 's'es and gleaned over your 'i's and 'e's, that never really made me want to kiss you. You'd sit there with your languid fingers clutching a book that was half finished, and read me words that were completely mispronounced. It would prickle me under my skin and I would grit my teeth, wondering when you would stop. I would never understand the english language you thought you spoke, and your confidence in your own words annoyed me.Another Language called English in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It was comical when you spoke in front of our friends. Your mistaken pronunciation of the word 'pronunciation' in particular made them giggle. I would stand in a corner, clutching a glass of rum and coke and cringe, flushing in second hand embarrassment. You would smile at me from across the room, and continue with your tangled tongue as though nothing was wrong.
I felt sorry for you. But not sorry enough when you took your favourite writing pen from my d
When Your Best is Not Good EnoughDon't speak.When Your Best is Not Good Enough in Free Verse More Like This
Don't hold yourself together.
Don't fall apart.
Don't pretend it is all going to be okay.
Don't act like it won't be all right.
Don't touch me.
Don't look away from me.
Don't be so needy.
Don't be so grateful.
Don't act silly.
Don't be so serious.
Don't have so much fun.
Don't be so sullen.
Don't love anyone too much.
Don't be so selfish.
Don't ignore me.
Don't love me too much.
And hope? Hope is just a lie you tell yourself so that tomorrow, you can do it all over again.
Why I Hate Romantic Comedies1.Why I Hate Romantic Comedies in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Because they say that for every single boy who counts the stars, there is a little girl who is wishing upon one. (And they never mention what happens after the stars fade into morning and the other falls into oblivion)
Because they say that people fall in love when the time is right, they are true to each other and are ready to be together. (But no one ever mentions how she is so damaged she can barely think, and he is so cynical that he may never be ready.)
Because they insist that your soulmate is going to be a good, kind, caring human being who will love you from the bottom of their hearts. (This is due to the fact that even if there is someone for everyone, bad people are immune to the soulmate theory.)
Because they always have a happy ending (And real life begins after the sun has set and she has realized that he may not be everything she hoped for and he begins to have second thoughts about commitment.)
Because everything is assured in i
Lying, Cheating Harlot“I have issues.”Lying, Cheating Harlot in Free Verse More Like This
“That’s a revelation.”
“No. Seriously. I have issues.”
“All right. I’ll bite. What’s going on?”
“I don’t think I’m ever going to find someone who’ll love me.”
“What? Why're you looking at me like that?”
“You aren’t serious, right?”
“I am glad my pain makes you so incredulous.”
“All right, let me try this again. If you can't find someone who loves you, who am I to you?”
“Don’t answer that. That was rhetorical. I am the girl who spends hours huddled in a corner of a library, trying to find what you love the most about Marlowe, just so I can write you a poem worthy of Shakespeare. I’ve made books my lovers, hours my enemies and you the only story.”
“You do that for-”
“I am the girl who will split her fingers in two and let the ink fall on pages and p
Let the Fall Make You Stronger."Hey! Are you all right?"Let the Fall Make You Stronger. in Emotional More Like This
"Sure, why wouldn't I be?"
"Um...because you just fell from the roof of the hou-"
"See, that's where you're wrong. I didn't fall. The floor challenged me and I accepted."
"And how did that go for you?"
"The floor won. But only because it had the advantage."
"Of being non sentient and vast in size, along with the fact that there is a freaking storm out!!"
"Nope. I just attacked from the wrong position."
"I overestimated my skills."
"I'll say. You're bleeding!"
"Only a little. Ask me again."
"If I'm fine."
"Is it because you're bleeding?"
"You're supposed to ask 'Why'."
"God, you're so bloody difficult!"
"But cute. Just ask."
"Because this world we live in, it gives us these dreams, you see. These great big beautiful colourful galaxies in our heads of ideas, thoughts and empathetic conclusions to our fellow humans. Our brain tells us, go on, be curious, make those mistakes.
When I Shall DieWhen I shall dieWhen I Shall Die in Free Verse More Like This
I ask not for a coffin
To display my mortal body
To the Earth beneath.
I ask not for a funeral
A celebration of my life and memory
Though both would be soon forgotten
I ask not for roses nor lilies
To slowly rot away in coherence with me.
When I shall die
I merely ask for a stone
With my name etched onto its soul
And of this stone I beg,
To remember me
Remember I was here , that I existed,
For all eternity.
Delusion becomes meDelusion becomes meDelusion becomes me in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
it echoes with the listless duty
of confining me
within the horrid tyranny
of my own fiction.
There will be no coup
no revolution nor rebellion
no cries for reality
nor exuberance of freedom
only the echoes of duty.
The monotonous drown of forgeries,
atrocities, and apologies,
the dying screams
of impoverished souls
of fancy and fantasy,
the rapacious shouts
of fallacious joy over
the births of new yet
lovely children of fate and belief,
more loudly the gunfire
these shouts are meant to cloud
horribly loud in themselves
though they quiet some of the screams,
and finally the repetition
of my own whispers
,my own words,
repeating the implication
and imagery of every sound
as is my duty.
My duty to know
every tragedy and eve
Your Poetry SucksYes, roses are redYour Poetry Sucks in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
And violets are blue
But you have to understand
Who said they had to,
Its about imagination
Emotion and orignality
Not the reiteration
Of dead men's practicality
They are your sentence
To a world that has to listen
As you create the difference
Whether it be
With angst poem against love
Or how you set your heart free
To fly like a dove,
For these words
Whether or not they be true
Their beauty and ideals
Will be used to define you,
Hope ,in fact, has feathers
And like a caged bird it sings
But these words will only be tethers
That strip you of your wings,
Those are their words
Meant for their time
And meant for their herds,
But this your time
Meant for your words
And whether they be meaningful, stupid
Or completely absurd
I'm sure they'll be amazing.