Post by zrcalo on Apr 29, 2015 2:55:47 GMT
!!!!YOU CAN COMMENT IN THIS THREAD!!!!! I AM ALSO ASKING FOR CRITIQUES!!
#incest #psychological abuse #abuse #gore #murder #serial killer #rape #torture #cannibalism #drugs #horror
tl;dr:
Jeffery Dahmer meets Josef Fritzl - the story.
This is the house that Hell built.
This is the house the devil resides in.
The floor is blood. There is blood on the floor. Where. Am? Myself. It is wet and dripping. It's heavy on my skin. I smell metal.
Scraping, scathing, scratching noises of metal on floor. Footsteps. A door opening. There is only silence. It closes again. The ringing in my ears subsides. If I were a deer, my ears would perk back up to their usual position. I am inhuman. I dont exist. I am the deer. I talk to it as it's my god. I hear him whispering to me in my ear. I see his black antlers. He has the teeth of wolves and the tongue of a viper.
I have nimble fingers. I can pick flesh off bone. I have nimble fingers. I can pick flesh off bone.
----------
elsewhere....
Donovan hated his dad. Mostly because he made too much pizza. Chase would come home every day and greet his son, then offer him pizza. Now, he didnt make pizza every day, but he may as well have been. As was said before, he "made" pizza. It'd be different if he got it from some place that knew what they were doing, but for some goddamn reason he couldnt even dedicate 15 minutes of his time to something that didnt taste like cheap burnt cardboard.
The door opened, "HEY KIDDO! I'M HOME! YOU WANT SOME PIZZA?"
Donovan threw his hands up in the air and made exasperated noises.
Chase looked up at him, paused for a bit--not knowing what to do, and went to his room.
"YEAH YOU GO INTO YOUR ROOM. PIZZA FUCKING KILLS PEOPLE. MAKES THEM FAT. MAKES THEM GROSS."
Chase peered out of his room, "so you want some?"
Donovan threw his hands up in the air and made exasperated noises again like the goddamn teenager he was.
"Hm. Well. There's stuff in the fridge. Eat whatever you want."
Donovan stared at him, unsure of what to do, then went into his room. He got back on the computer and continued perusing chatrooms and boards that 4chan had linked.
"What the fuck is this shit. Beastiality. Rape fantasy sites. Some schizophrenic persons' ramblings..." He thumbed through the tabs, thinking.
"What the ever loving fuck is wrong with people." He opened tabs upon tabs of crime articles, murders, serial killers, rapists, statistics, and sentences. Each worse than the next.
"This. This right here. I like this. This is what I like. Gore sites. God, I can stay on these forever." He looked, compared/contrasted sites against each other. Pitting them against one another in brutality. He picked through, arranged them, and exited out of the ones that didnt interest him. He pawed through them, mostly bored.
He leaned back against his chair and looked at the ceiling fan. It swayed as it spun.
He looked at the computer. Maybe his dad was right. He should get up and eat something.
He leaned forward, and rested his arms against the desk. Ehhhh too weak and tired. He put his head down on the keys and closed his eyes. He felt the coolness of the keys against his face. Donovan heaved a sigh. School. Yeah. That was a thing he had to think about. That was a thing he had to do and what was that other thing? Homework. Yeah. He glanced at the side of the desk at his sketchbook, then up at the door. He had no motivation or will to move from that position. He stayed there, motionless, staring at the door for a good while.
His computer beeped. "do you want to turn on sticky keys? BEEP. BEEP."
Donovan got up agitated, and exited out of the request on the PC. He stared at the screen again.
"FFFFF-a lkfjdlskdfjdsklf FUCKING TABS GONE. AAAUUGHHH. FUCKING CHROME COME BACK HERE" He tried opening all of them again, but the browser froze. So he just sat there angrily clicking into space. He pawed through his tabs again when they came back.
"Oh hey, there's schizo-dude's whole entire forum where he talks about himself to himself." He pawed through it, clicking links at random. What the ever loving fuck. Was he.. roleplaying with himself? Donovan read some of the paragraphs;
"If I were a deer, my ears would perk back up to their usual position. I am inhuman. I dont exist. I am the deer. I talk to it as it's my god. I hear him whispering to me in my ear. I see his black antlers. He has the teeth of wolves and the tongue of a viper. "
"ppppfffttt, he thinks he's a deer. lmao. Furries." Donovan glanced up and saw that there was a login option.
"O EXPLOITABLE." He clicked the "join" button.
#incest #psychological abuse #abuse #gore #murder #serial killer #rape #torture #cannibalism #drugs #horror
tl;dr:
Jeffery Dahmer meets Josef Fritzl - the story.
This is the house that Hell built.
This is the house the devil resides in.
The floor is blood. There is blood on the floor. Where. Am? Myself. It is wet and dripping. It's heavy on my skin. I smell metal.
Scraping, scathing, scratching noises of metal on floor. Footsteps. A door opening. There is only silence. It closes again. The ringing in my ears subsides. If I were a deer, my ears would perk back up to their usual position. I am inhuman. I dont exist. I am the deer. I talk to it as it's my god. I hear him whispering to me in my ear. I see his black antlers. He has the teeth of wolves and the tongue of a viper.
I have nimble fingers. I can pick flesh off bone. I have nimble fingers. I can pick flesh off bone.
----------
elsewhere....
Donovan hated his dad. Mostly because he made too much pizza. Chase would come home every day and greet his son, then offer him pizza. Now, he didnt make pizza every day, but he may as well have been. As was said before, he "made" pizza. It'd be different if he got it from some place that knew what they were doing, but for some goddamn reason he couldnt even dedicate 15 minutes of his time to something that didnt taste like cheap burnt cardboard.
The door opened, "HEY KIDDO! I'M HOME! YOU WANT SOME PIZZA?"
Donovan threw his hands up in the air and made exasperated noises.
Chase looked up at him, paused for a bit--not knowing what to do, and went to his room.
"YEAH YOU GO INTO YOUR ROOM. PIZZA FUCKING KILLS PEOPLE. MAKES THEM FAT. MAKES THEM GROSS."
Chase peered out of his room, "so you want some?"
Donovan threw his hands up in the air and made exasperated noises again like the goddamn teenager he was.
"Hm. Well. There's stuff in the fridge. Eat whatever you want."
Donovan stared at him, unsure of what to do, then went into his room. He got back on the computer and continued perusing chatrooms and boards that 4chan had linked.
"What the fuck is this shit. Beastiality. Rape fantasy sites. Some schizophrenic persons' ramblings..." He thumbed through the tabs, thinking.
"What the ever loving fuck is wrong with people." He opened tabs upon tabs of crime articles, murders, serial killers, rapists, statistics, and sentences. Each worse than the next.
"This. This right here. I like this. This is what I like. Gore sites. God, I can stay on these forever." He looked, compared/contrasted sites against each other. Pitting them against one another in brutality. He picked through, arranged them, and exited out of the ones that didnt interest him. He pawed through them, mostly bored.
He leaned back against his chair and looked at the ceiling fan. It swayed as it spun.
He looked at the computer. Maybe his dad was right. He should get up and eat something.
He leaned forward, and rested his arms against the desk. Ehhhh too weak and tired. He put his head down on the keys and closed his eyes. He felt the coolness of the keys against his face. Donovan heaved a sigh. School. Yeah. That was a thing he had to think about. That was a thing he had to do and what was that other thing? Homework. Yeah. He glanced at the side of the desk at his sketchbook, then up at the door. He had no motivation or will to move from that position. He stayed there, motionless, staring at the door for a good while.
His computer beeped. "do you want to turn on sticky keys? BEEP. BEEP."
Donovan got up agitated, and exited out of the request on the PC. He stared at the screen again.
"FFFFF-a lkfjdlskdfjdsklf FUCKING TABS GONE. AAAUUGHHH. FUCKING CHROME COME BACK HERE" He tried opening all of them again, but the browser froze. So he just sat there angrily clicking into space. He pawed through his tabs again when they came back.
"Oh hey, there's schizo-dude's whole entire forum where he talks about himself to himself." He pawed through it, clicking links at random. What the ever loving fuck. Was he.. roleplaying with himself? Donovan read some of the paragraphs;
"If I were a deer, my ears would perk back up to their usual position. I am inhuman. I dont exist. I am the deer. I talk to it as it's my god. I hear him whispering to me in my ear. I see his black antlers. He has the teeth of wolves and the tongue of a viper. "
"ppppfffttt, he thinks he's a deer. lmao. Furries." Donovan glanced up and saw that there was a login option.
"O EXPLOITABLE." He clicked the "join" button.
