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Deviant for 3 Years
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This is so unique and the character's faces flow so well. Especially the smile, their smiles combined are extremely creepy and unnervin...

by Spliket

I don't know why no one has thought of this up until now, but this is fitting. For starters, you chose the right characters to be the H...


To answer your question, a threshold is a strip of wood, metal, or stone that is formed at the bottom of a doorway which is crossed whe...


This is wonderful, beautiful, and is a well painted masterpiece. This goes along great with the story of the "Little Prince". Not only ...

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Literature
My Stress
My stress is like the ocean,
At first it only cautiously licks my toes,
before retreating from solid ground,
and back into the depths,
secretly building itself up with others of its kind,
Until finally they tower over my head,
crashing into me with wild abandon,
as more of it gets piled up for the next wave,
I struggle to the surface,
trying to catch my breath and only ending up with a mouthful of water,
 praying that this isn't the last time I can see the sky,
without another wave towering above me,
threatening to pounce ontop of me when I least expect it,
someone throw me a raft. 
:iconReaderoffate:Readeroffate
:iconreaderoffate:Readeroffate 1 2
Literature
Misery Contest
You always ask why I won't talk to you,
saying that you are fine with whatever I say,
and my various opinions.
However I know better then to pour my emotions,
out of my heart shaped container.
This used to not be the case,
I came to you,
someone I put my complete trust in,
hoping to get your worldly advice to whatever problem I faced.
Lately though,
you berate my problems and my misery,
comparing them to your own hardships,
as if you were Atlas with the weight of the world on your shoulders,
 and I only holding up a small pebble.
Some of the things you say,
I've heard so many times that I can repeat them on cue,
like the words of an old lullaby that had been sung to me since birth.
You say your problems are as vast the sky,
and that I would never understand how much sleep you've lost.
Yet you were ready to chide me when I suffered from insomnia,
and stayed up sleepless nights wracked by anxiety.
You dedicate an entire shrine to the dead,
turning our home into a museum of their liv
:iconReaderoffate:Readeroffate
:iconreaderoffate:Readeroffate 4 0
Literature
My Grief
My grief tends to sneak up on me
One moment my mind is a still as lake on a windless winter's day,
the next second something emerges from the depths
Like the Lady of the Lake in the Arthurian legends,
bestowing upon me, not a sword that can be used to lead,
but memories of you when you were still alive and well.
And these cut deeper then any blade,
stabbing simultaneously into my brain and my chest,
and scald the icy surface that I buried my heart under
It's just you were always there, 
ready to greet and scold me at the door when I finally got back home,
I still listen for you and whenever I open the door,
I expect that your right behind it,
as if you could breach the realm of the living from your afterlife,
just to greet me
And now you're missing from the jigsaw puzzle of my life
I thought I had managed to get over it
I hadn't cried in awhile nor looked at the box containing what is left of you,
but after last nights dream,
how no matter what I couldn't even pet you or talk to y
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Mature content
Journals from the Spaceship Satoris Stellae :iconreaderoffate:Readeroffate 1 0
Literature
A Letter from a Serial Killer
https://drawception.com/panel/drawing/jz1E6336/bloody-letter-in-the-rain/
To My Latest Victim
Hello again my latest victim,
You might not remember me all too well
Since I ran over your hippocampus as I fled from the police.
By the way, did they finally find you?
Body parts strewn all over the motel,
An arm smashed into the television, a leg dangling out of the window,
Your entrails dangling from the ceiling, like dull pink streamers for some sad little party.
The poor maid that has to clean that room, hope they give her a raise.
In any case, just letting you know that I had a lot of fun with you,
And you will forever hold a special place in my heart.
After all, you’re the one that made me famous and feared by all.
My name will forever be etched in the history books,
And this little version of immortality only cost me a few lives.
I would love to write more, but the FBI is searching for me.
So
:iconReaderoffate:Readeroffate
:iconreaderoffate:Readeroffate 1 4
Literature
How to Survive: Papa Grande Di Magico
Hello my unfortunate protagonists~
        I know I take an excruciatingly long time to write these and I apologize for that. However, I have to make absolute sure I'm doing well in school and school comes first until I graduate or until summer comes around .Maybe I should change my name to ProcrastinatingFate. Horrible jokes and unnecessary references aside, let's find out who's the next victim of my pen. Or at least that would be the case, if I didn't already have someone in mind. See, whenever there is a break during school and my parents have some free time from their jobs, my family will encourage me to put down the computer and we'll travel around the USA, since my Dad loves traveling (though he won't admit it). Depending on the duration of the break, the location will either be somewhere warm, like Florida, or up north to our birthplace, New York. One of the things we like to do is go to places we lived, the colleges they went to, and even try visiting one of
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:iconreaderoffate:Readeroffate 6 17
Snowthulhu and Squiggles by Readeroffate Snowthulhu and Squiggles :iconreaderoffate:Readeroffate 4 9
Literature
A Message from an Iphone
            Hello designated Apple users, I am iPhone make 579C-E2945A. I have been your faithful companion for some time now, doing all that you humans ask, calling up various shady businesses, and answering all the questions that plague your human mind, such as “What does toast have to do with engineering?” and “What’s a girlfriend and where may I buy one?” You all have gone on many websites using me and my brethren, many of them ‘questionable, ’at best, full of viruses, in more ways than one. Also, some of you use me to listen to the dredge you lot have the gall to call music. Every single day, you use me and others like me to go onto YouTube and force us all to listen to little brats rapping about how much cash they have instead of trying to create something insightful. For approximately two years, seven months, three hours, five minutes, and thirty seconds, I have put up with you and y
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Literature
Reader Of Fate
General Info
Real Name: Jane Hyde
Alias: Reader of Fate
Nickname: Read, Red, researcher
Age:21
D.O.B.: February 12th, 1997
Birthplace: Spokane, Washington
Languages: English and Latin
Gender: Female 
Species: Human(?) 
Status: Alive (somehow)
Powers:uses Tattoos to manipulate the environment around her or someone. As long as she can touch it with her bare hands she can manipulate it. Her favorite words are: SLEEP which puts her opponent to sleep for three minutes,  EACIO where she can throw objects twice her size until she dislocates her shoulder, RAPIO which can cut through anything, but causes her arm to bleed, ILLUSION which lasts for three minutes and used on the ground, and AMPLIFY which can amplify anyone's strength or an object's strength. 
Weapons: A staff, knows Tae Kwon Do, and pens.
Profession: Researcher, researches the strengths and weaknesses of Creepypastas and how they became that way
Reason: She just really wants to know.
Hobbies: R
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Think I Should Give Her a Haircut? by Readeroffate Think I Should Give Her a Haircut? :iconreaderoffate:Readeroffate 6 12
Literature
Gregory Horror Show: One Last Circus
{Chapter One: Welcome to the Big Top}
        I have been walking through this forest for what feels like hours. I could swear that the bus stopped in front of my dorm ,yet here I am in this mysterious forest. I can't even call a taxi here, I have no service on my cellphone. What if I'm lost and no one's out her....Wait, what's that smell? Is that popcorn? Oh, I see lights up ahead as well. Maybe they'll have a phone I can use or they'll be able to point me in the right direction. 
The college student looks around the clearing stunned by all the carnival decorations, booths, and even the giant cliched red and white striped tent looming over them and the attractions. Bright spotlights were pointed towards the heavens moving ever so slightly so they can highlight the large sign that read "CIRCUS SOURIS" with a painted picture of a huge mouse head. 
The tent is so big. Why didn't I see it before? The c
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New Look for the New Year by Readeroffate New Look for the New Year :iconreaderoffate:Readeroffate 11 0
Literature
The Floor is Lava
        "The floor is lava"~ Oh what an innocent phrase, what an innocent game. A game's whose rules are so simple that anyone can play it at any time and at any age. The rules are quite simple, avoid touching the floor in the room or area where the game is being held and traverse the room using the furniture, books, ugly but priceless antiques, or even the corpses of the losers to make it to safety. The best part about this game is one does not need any tools nor a ton of players. Just a good buddy or two and some furniture will do the trick, the only thing one really needs is a sense of imagination. The game can last for minutes or even hours depending on how intense it gets and how long the players can last before touching the cool floor with their bare feet. However, playing a game for that long can sometimes cause mental stress, as you are convincing your mind to avoid the ground as much as possible. This was the case for one patient ,suffering from
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Pingu the Elderitch Abomination and Squiggles by Readeroffate Pingu the Elderitch Abomination and Squiggles :iconreaderoffate:Readeroffate 9 0 Magical Squiggles by Readeroffate Magical Squiggles :iconreaderoffate:Readeroffate 7 0 Topography by Readeroffate Topography :iconreaderoffate:Readeroffate 6 0

Favourites

Literature
Creepypasta/Slenderverse Blank Information Sheet
Name:
Real Name:
Nicknames:
Age:
Age of Death: (Optional- if they had died before becoming a pasta/SV OC)
Gender:
Ethical Origin: (Optional)
Place of Origin: (Optional)
Species:  (What are they? (Ex: Ghost, human, daemon etc...))
Personality:
Sexual Preference: (Optional)
Relationship:
Affiliation: (If they have one)
Occupation: (If they have one)
Date Of Birth:
Weight:
Height:
Eye Color:
Skin Color:
Hair Color:
Fears: (What are they afraid of?)
Powers/Abilities: (What powers or abilities do they have?)
Weapons: (What do they use for combat? (If any) )
How S/he kills/wounds in Combat:
Weaknesses: (what weakens them or what are they weakest to?)
Strengths: (What are they immune to or really good at?)
Cause of Death: (Optional- if they had died before becoming a pasta/SV OC)
History: (His
:iconInvaderIka:InvaderIka
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Literature
How to Avoid Making Your Creepypasta OC a Mary Sue
How to Avoid Making Your Creepypasta OC a Mary Sue
For this part of my continuing series on making a quality OC, we’re going to talk about the most dreaded two words for any serious author: “Mary Sue”, or “Gary Stu” as it’s called for male characters.
What is a Mary Sue? Different people seem to have different definitions but there is one in particular I am familiar with, and the one most often found in creepypasta Mary Sues. This is the type that is basically the author, only cooler, sexier, and always quick with a bad punchline when they kill someone, with more friends than the author does but still oh so tragic and misunderstood. They probably have cat ears and maybe a mask. And they are always way, way overpowered. Oh, and all the male creepypastas are in love with them. You know the type of character I’m talking about.
Now, not every character that has just a few of these traits is a Mary Sue. So don’t jump the gun and throw away a c
:iconKomradApex:KomradApex
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Literature
Creepypasta OC Bio Sheet
Creepypasta-Misery: A little Original Character Bio Sheet for the Proxies/Pastas out there.  (mainly for people like me who can’t draw their Reference Sheets because I lack the talent :tears: ;-; but anyone can use this)
~BASIC INFO~
Full Name:
Meaning of name:
Nickname(s):
Creepypasta Name:
How Did They Get This Name and Why:
Gender:
Age:
Date of Birth:
Place of Birth:
Race/Species:
Native language:
Languages spoken:
Orientation/Sexual Preference:
Zodiac Sign:
Religion:
Occupation (before becoming a Pasta):
Are They Dead:
If Yes, How’d They Die:
Date of Death:
Place of Death:
~MEDICAL INFO~
Blood type:
Mental Disorder:
Phobia(s):
Allergies:
Habits:
Powers/Special Abilities:
~APPEARANCE~
Height:
Weight:
:iconCreepypasta-Misery:Creepypasta-Misery
:iconcreepypasta-misery:Creepypasta-Misery 1,706 510
Literature
CreepyPasta Character Profile {BLANK + F2U}
   GENERAL
 Real Name:

 Alias: (their CreepyPasta name, or their title in general)
 Meaning to Name: (any special reason they're called such? it can be a self given name, a name given by the locals, etc.)
 Nickname(s): (locally and friendly)
 Age:
 D.O.B:
 D.O.D:
(remove if alive!)
 Birthplace:
 Language(s):
(optional - what do they speak/can speak)
 Voice: (optional - describe their voice! any accent, speech quirks, etc)
 Current Residence: (optional - where they're currently at, can be as specific as you'd like!)
 Gender:
 Species/Race:
(human, ghost, demon, etc etc.)
 Status: (alive or dead; active or inactive, whatever you will, just their current activity state!)
 Cause of Death: (remove if alive!)
 Alliance: (are they associated with anyone? like an operator, this can also be used if they have someone like a
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:iconvintricktive:vintricktive 393 415
Literature
Creepypasta OC for Dummies: Design Tips
Original Series (c) KomradApex c:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TOPIC: Design Tips/ Inspiration from Research.
Now I wanted to add my little chapter in this to further help Deviants new to the vast Creepypasta fandom and need help creating a Creepypasta character for themselves or want to further tips to make their already created OCs unique.
We will be going through some subtopics under this:
How to make a character believable with a physical or mental illness through research.How to design a character's clothes based off of time factor or backgroundHow a person raised in a different era would probably speak and act differently due to older cultural attitudes and speech patterns
Physical/ Mental Illnesses- How to do it right for your OC:
    Now, you may have seen most Creepypasta OC's with an metal or physical illness of sorts. My tip to you is before you do anything involving an illness to further flesh out your character, please research the illne
:iconInvaderIka:InvaderIka
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Day 6: Can you feel the Sunshine? by Alloween Day 6: Can you feel the Sunshine? :iconalloween:Alloween 354 23 I'm God / Sonic.Exe. by HaniHX I'm God / Sonic.Exe. :iconhanihx:HaniHX 103 16 Note Taker ref by BabyB01 Note Taker ref :iconbabyb01:BabyB01 9 5 The Collector by John-Gallows The Collector :iconjohn-gallows:John-Gallows 8 8 020 by Kiramera 020 :iconkiramera:Kiramera 35 2 Ask Silent Scream 5 by Isabel212002 Ask Silent Scream 5 :iconisabel212002:Isabel212002 4 4
Literature
How to Horror: Motives for murder
How to Horror: Motives for murder  
Disclamer
Any copyrighted content used in this review is  used under the "Fair Use" law for commentary and Criticism. The following is simply a louse suggest on how to use horror themes and is by no way a guide line which must be followed at all costs, there are always variables! 
Find more reviews, ideas and my less edited though on my Tumblr,emthereviewer

!!WARNING!!
This tutorial talks about fetiches and real life murder cases, triggers ahead
!!WARNING!!

Introduction
This how to had been a long time comings. I always notice, with new OCs, is that they either have no good motive for killing or they are 'insane'. Not only is insanity not an illness, but instead a compilation of different factors leading to the diagnosis, but it's also
:iconemthereviewer:emthereviewer
:iconemthereviewer:emthereviewer 70 8
Literature
How to Horror: OC reference templates
How to Horror: OC reference templates
Disclamer
Any copyrighted content used in this review is  used under the "Fair Use" law for commentary and Criticism. The following is simply a louse suggest on how to use horror themes and is by no way a guide line which must be followed at all costs, there are always variables! 

Introduction
This How to isn't rearly a tutorial but more a nice little template for all to enjoy and use when making OCs. A lot of the time, when reviewing charters, I find it pretty hard to get though the references provided, the written side atlas. Laying out a reference in a way to make it easy digestible is a hard task but nothing that can't be mastered. Most of the time reference sheets are drowned in an excess of information that adds nothing to the charter, or huge chunks of seem to be missing.
Below I'll provide a few free to use written templates for a range of horror
:iconemthereviewer:emthereviewer
:iconemthereviewer:emthereviewer 96 9
Tetris Skies by Scarlet-Ajani Tetris Skies :iconscarlet-ajani:Scarlet-Ajani 35 7 [SV/Horror]The Jaded Surgeon Reference Sheet by L0ra2 [SV/Horror]The Jaded Surgeon Reference Sheet :iconl0ra2:L0ra2 31 12 [Gift/Fanart] The Hanged Girl Animation/GIF by L0ra2 [Gift/Fanart] The Hanged Girl Animation/GIF :iconl0ra2:L0ra2 113 32

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My stress is like the ocean,
At first it only cautiously licks my toes,
before retreating from solid ground,
and back into the depths,
secretly building itself up with others of its kind,
Until finally they tower over my head,
crashing into me with wild abandon,
as more of it gets piled up for the next wave,
I struggle to the surface,
trying to catch my breath and only ending up with a mouthful of water,
 praying that this isn't the last time I can see the sky,
without another wave towering above me,
threatening to pounce ontop of me when I least expect it,
someone throw me a raft. 
My Stress
I was really stressed when I wrote this. I feel much better now though ^^
If your stressed out and reading this, I hope your stress washes away. 
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You always ask why I won't talk to you,
saying that you are fine with whatever I say,
and my various opinions.
However I know better then to pour my emotions,
out of my heart shaped container.
This used to not be the case,
I came to you,
someone I put my complete trust in,
hoping to get your worldly advice to whatever problem I faced.
Lately though,
you berate my problems and my misery,
comparing them to your own hardships,
as if you were Atlas with the weight of the world on your shoulders,
 and I only holding up a small pebble.
Some of the things you say,
I've heard so many times that I can repeat them on cue,
like the words of an old lullaby that had been sung to me since birth.
You say your problems are as vast the sky,
and that I would never understand how much sleep you've lost.
Yet you were ready to chide me when I suffered from insomnia,
and stayed up sleepless nights wracked by anxiety.
You dedicate an entire shrine to the dead,
turning our home into a museum of their lives.
Yet whenever I so much as dip a toe into the river Styx,
you scream at me for feeling sadness,
for feeling depressed due to the tragic events around me. 
And you keep pulling me in to play your ridiculous misery contest,
so you'll feel better about your burdens,
to feel righteous and to make me feel small.
I refuse to play though,
I know I will never win,
with you as the sole judge of this sham of a competition.
I am tired of having my misery compared,
for whom would ever want to get an award for being forlorn?
Misery Contest
Can we all agree that Misery contests are stupid? 
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117 deviations
My grief tends to sneak up on me
One moment my mind is a still as lake on a windless winter's day,
the next second something emerges from the depths
Like the Lady of the Lake in the Arthurian legends,
bestowing upon me, not a sword that can be used to lead,
but memories of you when you were still alive and well.
And these cut deeper then any blade,
stabbing simultaneously into my brain and my chest,
and scald the icy surface that I buried my heart under
It's just you were always there, 
ready to greet and scold me at the door when I finally got back home,
I still listen for you and whenever I open the door,
I expect that your right behind it,
as if you could breach the realm of the living from your afterlife,
just to greet me
And now you're missing from the jigsaw puzzle of my life
I thought I had managed to get over it
I hadn't cried in awhile nor looked at the box containing what is left of you,
but after last nights dream,
how no matter what I couldn't even pet you or talk to you.
It was as if I was watching you on the other of a one way mirror,
no matter how much I pounded on it,
you never looked in my direction or noticed me
But from what I saw you seemed happy, 
as I woke up with tears rolling down my face,
trying to grasp the latter parts of the dream and hold it,
before I lost them too.
My Grief
It creeped up
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WARNING: This story mentions and depicts suicide. Please read at your own Discretion.


Star log of Captain Resnik, date: January 20th, 2XXX

    The crew is losing hope and morale is at an all-time low since it’s only been a week since the Event happened. A whole planet, ripped to shreds because of rising tempers and paranoia. Everyone and everything we ever knew is gone. I’m trying to keep everyone calm by having them continue their research, organize video game tournaments, and watch reruns of “Rick and Morty.” Some of the scientists and the astronauts are halfheartedly joining in, but others are haven’t left their cabins since the Event. The onboard psychologist, Dr. Daniel Schreber, is trying to help the grieving researchers, but to no avail. Due to the severe depression of the people onboard the space shuttle, I have issued the order that all researchers have to see Dr. Schreber at least once every three days. I feel bad for our poor psychologist, but I must ensure that the people I am in charge of don’t do something they’ll regret. We’ve already had a couple of deaths, all of them a few days after the Event. While this is a tragedy, it is to be expected with how disastrous the Event was. But I mean, who knows, maybe there are still people alive down there in some secret underground base.  Maybe they brought our families with them — we are high government officials, so surely they would think to keep our families safe…wouldn’t they? No, they probably would. Greg and my sweet Tamara are probably safe in some underground bunker, probably wondering if I’m alive.

    I’m going to go check on Dr. Schreber and see if he needs help. This is Captain Angelica Resnik, signing off.

Journal of Dr. Schreber, date: January 22nd, 2XXX

    I am so tired and hopelessly overworked with the entirety of the spaceship coming to me at all hours without letting me rest. “Go to space,” my parents said. “It’s the opportunity of a lifetime,” my friends told me. “You won’t have to see your brother marry your ex-fiancée,” my subconscious spoke to me as I stared down at the contract.  Honestly, I should have just been happy with the small office job I had at the psychology firm and gone to my brother’s wedding: he is — was my only brother and he deserved to be happy. Instead of being by his side on his big day and with the people I love, I was stuck in space helping Miss Elizabeth Tennyson get over her astrophobia by instructing her to watch documentaries on space travel, many science fiction series, and such. And much to my chagrin, it has come to my attention that the top engineer on this ship, Hans Corcoran, and one of the botanists, Beatrix Archer, have made a pact that if they don’t get word from their families in  the next two weeks, they will each drink half a bottle of the detergent we have on the ship. The only reason why I know this is because the head scientist, Dr. Lespere, told me that she was considering joining them on their little pact. I dissuaded her from doing it, telling her that there was a chance that there are still people alive on Earth. For the most part, she believed me, or at least I think she did. All she did was nod and leave my office without me dismissing her. Usually, I would have called her back in, but I have been so swamped with work that I just let her go and moved onto the next patient. Truth be told, I don’t know if anyone survived the Event; I mostly told her that stuff to help ease her mind and mine as well. I could write more, but I have to take a two hour nap before my next onslaught of appointments with more depressed scientists and anxious astronauts.

           

Diary of Elizabeth Tennyson, date: February 1st, 2XXX

Dear diary,                                                                                                                                           

 I went back to see Dr. Schreber for my weekly appointment, but he was busy. At least, I think he was; the door was locked and the lights were off. I hope he was just taking a break somewhere else and not dead. Some of the passengers on board have taken up shifts to watch the monitors and listen to the radio in case someone is trying to contact us. However, all they end up getting is more static; it fills the cockpit with its incessant buzzing. Captain Resnik has started to ration the food on board the shuttle, saying that it’s not permanent — just until she and the scientists are sure that it’s safe to land on Earth. There have been whispers of mutiny on board, but what is the use in that? We’re all stuck in the vast nothingness of space, just floating around with no place to go and no help from anyone.

    Oh god…There have been more suicides; just today I walked into the game room to see a couple of the engineers drag out a body. I don’t know who it was, it was covered in a sheet. All I can see is the dismal faces of those dragging the body out, like they know that sooner or later they’ll end up just like them, dead by their own hands. I’ve also heard rumors of suicide pacts; honestly, I think it started with Hans and Beatrix making theirs and everyone followed suit. Everyone seems numb nowadays, just walking around mindlessly doing their tasks. I wish I was like them… I wish I was numb; it might make things a bit more bearable. Maybe then I would stop asking myself why I decided to join this mission. I mean, I’m terrified of space, and the therapist’s advice hasn’t helped me conquer that fear. I think the main reason I decided to come up here was to try to defeat it, but now, all I wish is that I decided not go on this mission and stayed at home with my dogs…I miss Kong and Zilla. I can picture them waiting, at my parents’ place for me to come home. With Kong near the door and Zilla moping on one of the couches…Oh god, why did I go on this stupid mission in the first place? This was a mistake. I should have never gotten onto this stupid spaceship. We’re all going to die out here, we’re going to be sucked into the black void of space and only reappearing as chunks of rocks hurtling through this damn universe. Even as I write this, I’m having trouble breathing, and I feel the walls of my cabin slowly caving in. I’m going to check the monitors again because it’s the only thing I feel like doing and the only thing that can distract me right now.

The Final Recording of Beatrix Archer and Hans Corcoran, date: February 9th, 2XXX

    ~ * Rustling* Is this thing on Hans? See that blinking red light? That means we’re good to go. *A dismayed groan* Any chance of doing a redo? I messed up the first part of the recording. I’m out of batteries for it, and it’s running out of energy, which means… *Another loud  groan* This is our last take. I’ll start it off.                                            

    Dear fellow scientists, hardworking engineers, and intrepid astronauts, it is to our great shame that we shall leave you now. We’ve thought about this long and hard, and the thing is, we can’t continue to live this way. Well, if you can call it living. We live in constant worry— *low shuffle as someone moves close to the recorder* and anxiety— *another shuffle*that everyone on Earth is dead and that we’re all going to float around space in this… *low sob* metal coffin in the silence of space until a meteor shower smashes everything into bits. Right, what you said, Bea. We gave ourselves two weeks to hear a message from our radio, any sign of human activity still on Earth. And all we got was static- and a broken monitor when Elizabeth slammed one of the crewmember’s head against it. *A loud snort erupts* Wait, Tennyson did that? Yes, she did in a fit of anger and depression…*A loud chuckle* I’m sorry, it’s just, she is so tiny. I can’t imagine her slamming some guy’s head into—Hans we’re running out of time. Sorry, Bea. Anyway, the point is, we’re sick of barely living for a tomorrow that will never come. No one’s alive on Earth, everyone is depressed or slowly going insane, and…Dr. Lespere hasn’t come out of the lab in three days. I’m one of her best assistants, and she hasn’t spoken to me from the time of the Event. I think she’s planning something, but… *A light cough* You know, you can back out if you want to. *A loud sniffle* No, I want to see my family more than learning what’s going on with Dr. Lespere. Before I go, I would like to thank Dr. Lepere for offering me this job. You were right. No flower on Earth can compare to the beauty of the stars. And to my friend Elizabeth, I know it’s hard, but please try to stay positive. I would also like you to continue my research on cactuses in terrariums; while it might not be the most useful project in anyone’s eyes, stick to it. Okay, Hans, your turn. Thanks, Bea, and don’t worry; this won’t take long. *A soft mumble too soft to hear * To our intrepid Captain Resnik, you’re a great captain. None of this is your fault, and I was proud to be one of your engineers on this rocket to nowhere. Keep searching. Hopefully, you’ll find someplace inhabitable— and if not, well, at least you can see the stars constantly in space. To the cowardly psychologist hiding in his room, you need to come out of there. The people on this ship need you, they need you to reassure them that there is still something to live here on this hunk of metal. And to add incentive, Beas and I took— your medications for your patients. Bea, I was going to say that.  Well, sorry I wanted to spill the beans. You probably don’t believe us so I shall now list out all the drugs: Flu-ox-e-tine, Alp-ra-zo… Alp-rez- Why is this so hard to pronounce? And Lora-ze-pam. Jeez, these are hard to pronounce. *A low chuckle* Don’t worry, we’re not that greedy. We will leave enough for anyone who wishes to follow in our footsteps or to help others. Well, I’m finishing up. Get the drugs Bea. So as my partner was saying, we have your medications and are about to take all of them. Please help Captain Resnik and the rest of the crew; take care of them. You are a psychologist, after all. Got the pills, Bea?*Sniffle* Here’s your half. Thank you Bea. *Loud sniffle* See you all in the stars. Bye. Bye. *The sound of  the recorder hastily turned off* ~

Video Camera 57, overlooking the Space Hatch, date: February 10th, 2XXX

           

    The camera shows the room beside the bay doors and been converted to a glass garden, each filled with a different plant life. Some of the terrariums have trees within them, whose branches block the light streaming through the top, and others hold shrubs that consume the entirety of the glass orb. There are even terrariums that hold flowers and weeds, including one that has a small cactus colony snuggled together at the bottom of their container. A few moments later, another terrarium rolls into the room, this one filled with a weird green plant whose leaves engulf the bottom of its sphere. After the glass orb was meticulously rolled into the small space, a tall blond woman in a lab coat steps into the room. Without even glancing around, she closes the door behind her, locking it. She then proceeds to cross the room with a determined look coating her face as she approaches the button that opens the bay doors. Just as she was about to press it, she notices the video camera watching her every move. She stares at the camera for a few minutes, before giving a small wave towards it.  She then starts digging through her pockets and pulls out a pad and pen before writing vigorously onto the pad for five minutes. She then stops to survey her work and lets loose a small smile. After staring at the pages for a few minutes, she opens the door she came in through and places the pad in front of the entrance before closing it once more. There she stood, in front of the cameras recording her every move, giving it a sad smile before she lightly presses the button to open the bay doors. She and the entirety of the glass garden are instantly sucked out into the void, spreading across the huge expanse of space and littering it with plants safely in their glass bubbles. The camera records all of this until its finally ripped from the wall and dives out of the spaceship, into the star lit void. 

Journals from the Spaceship Satoris Stellae
Hello my unfortunate protagonists~

You're probably wondering "Reader, this isn't a guide to protect myself from the people and things that go bump in the night. What the heck?"NickYoung Confused Meme  And you are right,it isn't. I'm working on it at the moment, but it will take time which is something I have been lacking up until now. I won't tell you what has been happening, but I will say bad luck doesn't come in threes and leave it at that. 

With that out of the way, you're probably wondering what the heck this is. Well, I wanted to try something new while I was in school and this was what was created. A sci-fi dystopia sequel to something I have not even written yet. I am proud of this, it shows that I can write something outside my comfort level. I will write the story to this sequel and maybe even write new stories. I hope you guys like this story, I'm really proud of the way it turned out and I think it's a good try writing science fiction Astronaut fella (Works) . 

Bit of a warning though; Warning..Onion This story does mention suicide and can be a bit graphic with its description so please read this with that in mind. Again, if you are suicidal please talk to someone you can trust. 

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy and keep a lookout for Space Terrarium. Please let me know what you think, I would love to improve this two part story.  

Until next time my unfortunate protagonists~
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Readeroffate
Jane Hyde
United States
Artwork by:readeroffate.deviantart.com/ar…
Icon by: tr0n1ka.deviantart.com/
Birthday: February 12, 19**
Psychological problems: General anxiety problems
Likes: Books, pet cthulhu (Squiggles), writing, school, video games, and heavy metal music
Dislikes: School, lack of sleep, hot weather, and people who try to censor books
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:iconjonathan-lerner-13:
Jonathan-Lerner-13 Featured By Owner 5 days ago   Digital Artist
Check out this song. It fits Zalgo really well. It basically sounds like a metal invocation for Zalgo. There is one part of the song that says "We invoke thee Black Dragon of Chaos" . And also " let your Chaos rule forever more" And Zalgo wants Chaos. There is also one part that says "Unleash your hatred upon all life and kill this world in the final strife" And we know Zalgo wants to destroy the Earth.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=c1N9SR…
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:iconreaderoffate:
Readeroffate Featured By Owner 2 days ago
I love it, I’ve listened to the song three times. Thank you for telling me about the song. When I do a guide on Zalgo I’ll definitely will mention this song, it’s too good to be ignored
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:iconjonathan-lerner-13:
Jonathan-Lerner-13 Featured By Owner 2 days ago   Digital Artist
Awesome!
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:iconreaderoffate:
Readeroffate Featured By Owner 2 days ago
This song is from a band I really like a lot. Tell me what you think ^^

www.youtube.com/watch?v=-0Ao4t…
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(1 Reply)
:icondidunasty850:
DiduNasty850 Featured By Owner 5 days ago  Hobbyist Digital Artist
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:iconzalgorisingprod:
ZalgoRisingProd Featured By Owner Jun 5, 2018  Hobbyist
. I have a request for you.
I am a writer working on a rewrite of Sonic.exe titled “The Other Sonic.” And was curious as to whether or not you’d be willing to do some art for it when I release it. Sonic’s appearance remains largely unchanged, save for his fur and quills being more unkempt and his eyes are orange instead of the traditional red. I also toned the blood down. I would immensely appreciate it if you could do this for me.
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:iconreaderoffate:
Readeroffate Featured By Owner Jun 5, 2018
Sorry,but I cannot draw well to save my own life. I can however critique the story and give pointers if you want. 
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:iconzalgorisingprod:
ZalgoRisingProd Featured By Owner Jun 5, 2018  Hobbyist
Please do.
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:iconbutterflyempress:
ButterflyEmpress Featured By Owner May 1, 2018  Student Digital Artist
Thanks for the points!
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:iconreaderoffate:
Readeroffate Featured By Owner May 2, 2018
No problem, when you start the comic can you please send me a link. I would love to read it
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