My apologies if your art work didnt get approved for the last two weeks. I was away on an emergency, and still kind of am atm. Im trying as hard as I can.
Please bear with me TAT
p.s. Welcome all new memebers!
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|The finest art made by midnight.|
WIP: Murder WeaponDid you know that the United States has 44.42 murders each day on average? Just in 2017, 405,000 people died via homicide. While guns, especially automatics, are the most used weapons of murder in the United States, there is just something about the knife that makes things more…personal. The fact one can get up close to their victims as they are stabbed, the blood flowing from the newly opened wounds, see the life in their eyes leave as they die. All that blood, all the violence, all that anger must go somewhere, must leave an imprint, right? Not just on those involved, the families who lost loved ones in such violent acts, murderer, and victim, but on the inanimate? Traces of blood, rage, and violence left behind, staining the blades forever. What were to happen if, from all that blood, all that rage, and all that violence, came…life?It is the police’s sworn duty to collect vital pieces of evidence to bring the violent offenders to justice. It is no different in the Murphy Count Sheriff's Department, where hundreds of crucial pieces of evidence are stored. Another day another dollar, as they say. Small-town police go into work not quite knowing what to expect but for the more experienced, things become routine, even the grotesque. Deputy Bill Anderson had just returned from the scene of yet another grizzly murder. For the faint of heart, the scene where a husband butchered his wife and her lover in a blind, envious rage would be stomach-churning, but for old Bill, it was but the usual. Bill held an evidence bag in his hand as he walked down the solitary hall. Within the bag was a large, bloodied kitchen knife with he husband’s bloodied fingerprints all over it. It was a pretty open-and-shut case, as the husband, horrified at what he had done, simply turned himself in. Made Bill’s job a whole lot easier except for the mountain of paperwork coming his way.Damn, they really need to fix those lights. Bill thought to himself, as he walked down the dark hallway with the broken lights; not a single one was working. Damn budget cuts…After what seemed like an eternity, Bill finally made it to the evidence locker. There with his feet propped up on the desk and the latest Stephen King book in his grasp was Ted on the midnight shift. This cheerful older man and friend of Bill’s sat alone under a single light in the evidence locker, ready for his nightly routine of doing absolutely nothing until something happens. Ted looked up from his book, hearing the steps of good ole Bill approaching.“Business or casual?” Ted asked loudly to his old friend.“Business I’m afraid, Ted. Double homicide, the husband went ballistic after finding his wife in bed another man.” Bill explained as he approached the desk and sent the bag with the bloody knife down upon it.Ted rolled his eyes and shook his head before huffing and puffing as he got out of his chair to stand, saying, “Story as old as time. That’s why I’m never getting married.”“Says the man who’s been divorced twice.” Bill joked.“Shut the fuck up, man!”“I’m kidding, I’m kidding, let’s just put this damn thing away already," Bill replied, wanting to get off his shift already, as his shift was supposed to have ended three hours ago, but he had to stay and deal with the homicide at the last minute.“All right you know the drill, sign here," Ted said monotonously, as he handed Bill a clipboard. Bill sighed heavily as he bent over to put his signature down.“The boys from the lab will drop the rest of the shit off later tonight once they’ve collected everything. Lucky for us, the bastard turned himself in so the case is good as solved.” Bill said as he put the pen down and gave the clipboard back.“And I bet you’re happy about that?” Ted asked playfully with a widened smile.“I’m just happy my damn shift is over. See you tomorrow.” Bill replied before walking away back down the long, dark hallway.Ted waved him off and grabbed the bag off the desk. He processed the knife, got a card box, wrote the case number and date upon it before tossing the knife into it with little care. He then took the box into the back to be put away with all the other junk collecting dust. Finding an empty spot, he slid the box into place, dusted his hands, and began to walk away out of the darkened paths between the shelves.“Damn budget cuts…” Ted said as he blindly walked out of the shelves only to suddenly hear something behind him. The sound caused him to pause in place and turned around, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. The room was silent, Ted couldn’t even hear his own breathing. Maybe he needed to cut down on the King? Once he turned around, he saw the box he just put away on the floor, the knife had fallen out. Ted furrowed his brow in confusion, but simply rolled his eyes as he walked back down between the shelves and picked it all back up in its place. Yet he was sure he put it away properly; how could it fall off the shelf and landed in the middle of the aisle as it did?Ted stood there in confusion, looking at the box once he put it away a second time. “What is it with the people of this town, killing each other with knives?” He asked himself aloud as he rolled his eyes and began to walk away again. This time, Ted didn’t even make it out of the aisle as two more sounds were heard behind him. Ted was caught off guard, even more, this time, as his whole body jolt and he couldn’t help but gasp in fright. He jumped and turned around, and this time it was two boxes on the floor, their contents spewed upon the tile floor. The box he just put away and another box from an older murder case that just so happened to contain a knife, both knives laid upon the floor. Ted furrowed his brow again. He was about to take one step forward, but a new sound overcame all his senses. It was the sound of rattling boxes upon the shelves.The shelves shook violently, the boxes upon them moved on their own. The boxes began to fall one-by-one then two-by-two, but only those containing knives in them. The other boxes stayed perfectly still. As Ted watched the boxes fall more and more, only the knives fell out of them and nothing else. The metallic rattling sound of the blades jittering across the white tile floor joined the frenzied cluster of echoing sounds which filled Ted with sheer terror. The old man had no idea was he was seeing, and ran out of the evidence locker as fast as he could, but the knives…they seemed to be following him ever so slowly like a pack of stalking wolves on the prowl.
WIP: In the Mind of a Toy I can only breath when the hand is touching me I can only move by its command I can only exist in the mind of the giant What is this?
JudgmentPlace my heavy heart on the scalesAnd against a feather it weighSo what do my deeds add up toWho will execute what is due Oh lords, have I wronged Oh lords, I wasn't strong Oh lords, hear my song...Place my wicked soul on the slabExamine its marks like a mapAre the roads clear, the mountains highWill I e'er be able to fly Oh lords, what's my fate Oh lords, ruminate Oh lords, I shall wait...
Hello, all members of Insomnia Artist
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The gallery has now been divided into Folders, please make sure that you do submit your work to the right folder of where it should belong to.
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