The House on BranchlandThe House on Branchland:More Like This
A Creepypasta by GeneralMeldor
My name you may ask? Samuel Chase, an urban explorer of sorts, I like to see abandoned places and walk along paths that have been long since forgotten. This is a book that I am writing in order to chronicle my journey around the United States. My goal is to see every ghost town that remains standing. Some of them are full cities and some are merely ruins. In this book, there are no details left out and every word is truth.
19 March 2018:
Only a few days before, I finished exploring the two sites in North Carolina that I needed to see. Proctor was the first ghost town that I visited. Proctor was a small town until it was mostly flooded by the construction of the Fontana Dam in 1945. Some parts could only be reached by boat, while some buildings and a cemetery remained undisturbed, and some buildings can only be seen if the water level is low. Mortimer was the sec
The Beautiful ClownsThere is another one. Tall blond, shutter-shade sunglasses, pink novelty tee, and jeans that show me too much ass. We are trying to march down this boulevard to make a scene. Me and my gang, we aren't funny and are not here to chase tail, even if we did find it mildly attractive. Pocka-dots and an ironic sense of humor. When the clowns roll walk into where you live, you will find that you were on our turf all along.More Like This
This was a long time coming. We should have just taken what was ours. We had a girl selling on a street corner. Snow, not ass, we don't sell ass. We give stupid people stuff that keeps them stupid and there is no woman who deserves to be some banker's sweet escape. I find that women fight just as well as men, if they are treated like they can. Mother's fight better, pain tolerance and a constant angry stare.
Take Bridge, she was fourteen when we found her. Skinny as wire on a fence and high on crack. I don't give wasts of girls like that a second look but not Bridge. Even o