I hear it again. The grating, crunching, grind of his teeth. It echoes in my head, drowning out all thought, all hope of sleep. Oh, how I miss sleep. The grinding comes and goes, ever present, though no sound comes from the bed where my husband lies, staring blankly at the ceiling.
We met at work. He was the first to make friends with me in the office, introducing me to all of our coworkers. We often took our breaks together, riding the elevator downstairs to grab a coffee and smoke outside in the cool winter air. It was spring when he proposed. Taking advantage of the nice weather while the bugs hadn't yet arrived, he got down on one knee in the sculpture garden at the park, drawing stares from the few passersby. The wedding was small, but lovely. Friends and family gathered to congratulate us, overjoyed that we had found love so quickly. We found a small place a half hour away from work in the suburbs, moving in and settling down in just a few short weeks. Everything seemed perfect, and for the most part it was.
Mornings were easy. He would wake first and put on a pot of coffee, maybe even start making breakfast if we had the day off. I'd roll out of bed and he'd greet me with a smile and a kiss, and we were happy. Work was work, but we were content. Evenings were calm. We would make supper together, talk, laugh, watch some TV. We'd get ready for bed knowing the day had been good.
Night was where things fell apart. I couldn't sleep. I could never sleep. Not with that noise lingering by my ear. I'd try to wake him, but once he was asleep, he was dead to the world. I told him the morning after I first noticed, but he laughed it off. He said it couldn't be him because his jaw would hurt when he woke up, and clearly he was fine. I let it drop, but every night it would happen again. It drove me to sleep on the couch in the other room, but I could hear it still through the door. After a few weeks the lack of sleep had gotten to me. I would stay curled up in my blanket until my breakfast had gone cold, I slacked at work, There was no more talking or laughing over supper, I dreaded nighttime.
Finally, I decided enough was enough. I would end this. Before I knew it I was straddling his body, my hands tight around his neck. He had finally stopped making that god awful noise, his mouth and eyes frozen wide in terror instead. I removed my hands when I noticed how pale he had gone, but still he looked at me in fear, mouth open in a silent gasp. It hit me hard, what I had done, and I scrambled off of him, nearly tangling in the blankets covering his lifeless form. I booted up the computer, hoping for a way out, some set of instructions to undo the last day. I sat and cried, staring at the keyboard for hours. Eventually my tears dried and gave way to pitiful sobs, barely loud enough to be heard. That's when I noticed, faintly, faintly, the grinding of teeth growing louder. The background hum that had been there all along, even as I sat above my husbands cold body.
>>17223541 I see a lot of people coming and going at the hotel I work at.
One in particular was a Manson-looking dude complete with a couple of older women and an ethnic girl. The hotel I work at has a don't-ask-don't-tell policy, partly because we're in the slums and partly because the hotel's close to bankruptcy. They paid in advance, cash. Apparently the boss knew them.
They stayed for about a week, the two older women being the ones myself and staff noticed. Cleaning staff was stopped from cleaning the room on multiple occasions, dismissed by a voice on the other end of the door each time they tried. Crying, voices speaking and yelling in a foreign language were common. Lots of visitors coming and going. Police force is shit here, taking hours on anything other than violent altercations in public places. (Ie, handguns in malls.)
It reached a fever pitch with this group, to the point one of my bros pulled the fire alarm. (No-one gets caught for that shit unless they're school kids.) I checked the room. Nothing. Was told by colleagues the man and women were out, but not the kid.
>>17223678 They dance when you pull the strings. But not just any pull. You have to be careful. Tug too hard here, miss the angle there, and all you have is flailing. A sad sight, really. Sometimes you don't need strings at all. You only need to... Poke them. Prod. Push. Sting. Gently, like a lover. That's right, no- a little lower, darling. Thaaat's right. Look at how gracefully the back bends. Now just like we've practiced, you know the spots, we've marked them in red. Amazing! You really are talented, just like your mothers. Spin, spin- stop. An extravagant pose, magnificent. What snapping noise? Oh, that's just them protesting. Arms don't naturally bend at that angle. What's that, you say, white thing sticking out? Oh dear. Shame. Toss it on the pile, we'll get another. Oh, you've got some red on your- what a lovely pet, licked it right off. Let it pick one from the pile. Who's a good boy? Now, back to our practice, and one, and two...
>>17223631 2/2 Thursday. They left the day before the week ended. Trashed the apartment, fast-food and shit-stained sheets left in the bath/shower. Maria (cleaning staff) and I were left to clean up the mess and take inventory.
Ask her what she thinks was going on, to know the boss and get around needing ID and a credit card for a room.
In slurred English, she tells me they were from Venezuela. They smuggle drugs and youth into the States for a quick profit. (Aside - Maria's mother was in a gang.) The girl was likely either a poor runaway or her parents gave her to the group. Maybe even extorted for "protection" money. Maria became more distressed, and became quiet.
"Abandoning your own child? What kind of shitty parents do that?"
"The kind that is no hope. The parents poor and no hope. Scared and alone, but alive. Many dinero."
We clean, filth strewn about with clothes. Times like these I really hate my job. Nothing else available, though. Clean rooms, take inventory, be happy to have an income.
We get to the bed, scent wafting of decomposing burgers and flies with bugs. We finish cleaning, but the scent remains, is worse. Something is jammed into the grate.
Maria starts crying, hyperventilating. I remove the grate, and she's crying even more.
The little girl's in there, naked. Stuffed into the grate and contorted so badly I could barely take her out.
I hate my job sometimes. I see a lot of people come and go, but nothing ever changes. I never change, all I can do is hold onto this job until I get laid off.
My mother got me used to pray before I went to sleep. I'd feel safer; I kept this habit even when I was older. Yet no earthly prayer, nor advice had me as prepared as I needed to be tonight. I dreamt of a beautiful woman on the grass fields. I came up to her, and she told me, she was an angel. We set off to a place unknown, where she told me I'd have to go. God sent her and such, this was what she kept repeating me over yards of land, while walking. She brought me to a boulder as the night came. There was a door and she told me it was for me. But before she could open it, I had woken up. I felt sorry at first, but between the calm shock of transition, I asked myself, There are no women from the heavens... And it was a question no more.
>>17223834 i got a phone call . it was from the delivery guy saying my pizza i ordered 30 minutes ago was going to be a little late and he needed some help finding my house
10 minutes earlier i had already paid for my pizza and was eating it as some one saying they work at pizza hut who knew i had ordered a pizza tried to get me to talk them through getting to my house from a main road
>>17223747 'Why not?', he thought to himself. It's a nightclub, he's here with his bros, live fast die young, right? He took a pill. The glowsticks and fluorescent paint blurred into a haze as they ground to a halt. It was like looking at one of those long exposure pics that had little round pink pills in their hand. He took a pill. The crowd around him extends in every direction. He's lost in a sea of people. When he looked back in front of him, the chick had her tits in his face but no pills in her hand. Was the ceiling always this high up? He could swear he saw stars. No, wait, those aren't stars, those are- He reached out and took a pill. 'This is some good shit, man.' The spider-faced man winked at him right before he sunk his fangs into his escort. Some of the blood landed into his drink. Tasted pretty sweet, oddly enough. If he had to describe the flavour, he'd say pi- Man, his head is killing him. There was comfort in that he was sure that his bro felt it too. Oughtta be some connected neurons in that lump of flesh they're poking out of. Flesh, huh. Usually they call flesh pink, when his looks sort of beige. But the flesh on this chick does actually look pink. Now if she could just stop squirming and let him take a bi- 'Triiiiippyyyyyy' was the only thing he could think of. Who knew how pretty colours get when you're not limited to just red, green and blue? Blood looks amazing with a tinge of the fourth colour. Maaan, he can feel the space between his cells growing. They give such a pleasurable shock when they get disconnected from the nerv- Oooooh, so many little eggs! They're tickling his kidneys! Oh, another pill? This one's green though.
He woke up on the sidewalk outside of the nightclub. His bros were gathered around him looking all worried. 'Guys I just had the most amazing trip ever. Just hold on, I gotta take a piss.' ... 'Man this feels hella weird, almost like something's crawling through my di-'
>>17223861 So. This is it. I'm dead. It's finally over. Mom doesn't have to cry any more. I'm sorry I couldn't be a good boy, Mom. I'm sorry I couldn't make it in life. God, if I could just do it all over again. I fucked up so much along the way... By the time I even knew I'd fucked up it was too late... Too late for everything. So, uhh... God? Kami-sama? Jewt? Can you hear me? Is this purgatory? I guess it is. I didn't deserve to go to heaven, and... I never really did enough bad stuff to go to hell. Oh God, I didn't do anything. Anything at all. I'm so pathetic... W-well at least I can be with my waifu now. 2d is best, right? H-hello? Tomoko-chan? Are you there? Is... Is anybody there? Hello? Guess not... Maybe I should just wait. Someone's gotta come around eventually, right? This is like some kinda cosmic waiting room... Yeah, that's it. They'll get right to me. I just gotta sit tight. Hum. Huhum. Hum hum... ... Am I alone in here? Am I gonna be alone in here forever? Can't I get another chance or something? To redeem myself for... For not doing anything... Is there ANYONE in here but me? Please respond. Please respond. Please respond! PLEASE RESPOND! SOMEONE, I'M BEGGING YOU, PLEASE, GET ME OUT OF HERE, I DON'T WANNA, I DON'T WANNA STAY IN HERE ALONE FOREVER PLEASE GET ME OUT OF HERE ... I'm alone in here. I'm alone forever. Oh, oh thank God. Are you here to take me out of this void? Yeah, I'll go with you. Oh thank you, oh thank God. Reincarnated? So I was right, it is a waiting room! Not human? No, I don't mind, anything's better than being stuck in that echo chamber forever. Wow, this is a lot of limbs. And I'm swimming in something... Ok, I can handle it from now on, thank you so much! Light! Am I gonna get born?
The night of his discovery would reverberate through Dr.Rothwell's memory for the rest of his life. For years he had been conducting research into increasing the longevity of life - another explorer in search of the "fountain of youth." Where others had made small steps, his research had been advancing by leaps and bounds, but it came at a price.
Rothwell's work in human genetics began in the late 1970s as a junior research assistant, and he was part of the team that first successfully isolated stem cells in lab mice in 1981. He later began work with human embryos, and his work was pivotal in human stem cell isolation. Near the end of the millennium he could not be happier. He was a virtual "rock star" in the world of human genetics, he had fallen in love with his striking young research associate Emma , and with growing data from the human genome project he was able to make even greater discoveries in his research. But it was soon to come crashing down.
It was soon discovered that Emma had pancreatic cancer. The brightest light in his life was quickly extinguished and Rothwell was devastated...
>>17228224 >be me >check my email one day >about 18 messages, from this one guy called Barry >"look outside your window" >look outside my window >see spoopy thing >2 days later >spammed with emails again >look outside window >nothing to see?? >turn around >barry is inside house
>>17228201 As I sat in a chair in front of a table in a dark room in the middle of god-knows-where a bald man held a survival knife to my through well his partner,a man with black bags under his eyes and a crazed look in his gaze stared at me well tapping another knife,which looked even longer and sharper then the one held against my throught.It appeared to be some Asian dagger,a Kris blade if I recall.It was greenish silver yet it was dripping with a dark Purple liquid.A droplet of the liquid fell on to my hand and I could feel the skin in touched burn then become numb.
The baggy eyed man spoke in a calm yet child-like voice telling me it was time to play a game.He told me to put my hands on the table and spread my finger.I hesitated for a moment before the bald man grunted and pressed the blade ever closer to my through.I quickly gave in to his demands and placed my hands on the table between us with my digits stretched out.
He placed his knife in the space between my lefthand middle finger and ring finger.He raised the blade a few inches and in an instant brought it back down, stabbing the empty space between the index finger and middle finger.He repeated this well he started to sing a child-like tune.
"Oh, You have all my fingers, the knife goes chop chop chop,If I miss the spaces in between, his fingers will come off"
>>17228456 Panic set in as I realized that what he was doing finally became clear to me.As he stabbed the spaces in between faster I began to try to move my fingers away from the blade stabs.He clearly realized what I was doing and brought the blade down hard on the side of my ring finger.As this happened he Angrily sang to me.
"...And if you choose to try to cheat,get ready for heat,because the man with a knife is on his feet."
I noticed the blood on his blade before the burning pain from my finger came screaming in.It was difficult but I worked through the pain and I kept my hand still well the sick game played out.I realized that he was stabbing much faster now,I could barely keep up with the blade.He continued his morbid melody.
"...But all the same, I play this game, cause that's what its all about...
He stopped singing and started stabbing the knife harder and harder.I realized he was stabbing through the table now causing it to shake.My finger filched again and they received another stab.This time it was more than a small cut.The blade pierced half of my middle finger.This time I couldn't hold it.I moved my hand in response to the pain and the man stabbed through the palm of my hand.I couldn't even react to that.I just froze. I not sure if it was from the pain or a nerve getting cut but I was paralyzed.The knife slammed down several more times making deep holes in the table and repeatedly striking each of my fingers.A few were lucky only to get severe cut but most were hanging on by strips of skin a lingering muscle. My whole arm just burned,I couldn't even feel the individual fingers.
>>17228463 Eventually the baggy eyed man brought the knife down so hand shattered.There may of been a moment of silence but I was too far into shock at that point to notice.I didn't come to my senses until the bald man who was silent up until this point muttered something to the baggy-eyed man.The got up and walked off together.Before they the knife the bald man had was dropped on the table and the baggy-eyed man muttered one last thing to me.
"Here's a gift.You better use it to finish the job,you don't' have much time."
They left,leaving me alone to stare at my mutilated hand.That's when I noticed something.Despite this being the worse injury I ever endured I couldn't feel a thing.No pain,no agony,not even dizziness from blood loss.I then noticed the purplish infected areas that felt like the center of the numbness and realized that the numbness was spreading from them and up my arm and slowly making it's way to my chest.
I looked at the knife that had been left on the table and realized what I had to do.
It was a quiet spot. It was the quiet of 6 am. The misty air made a light fog roll in between the trees. You're sitting in your car. You have to make your commute in an hour, but for now you just want some quiet. It's cold in the park at this time and soon the morning joggers will come and the dog walkers and the parents with their excited kids. But for now it's quiet and cold. You don't want to turn the heater on. It won't help. It will just waste gas and you have a commute in 50 minutes. Besides, the coldness has already seeped inside. It made its way inside over a week ago. Nothing really caused it. You were just sitting at lunch and suddenly you were cold. It's not a cold you can fully describe. The best you can come up with is that time you were at the dentist getting a filling and some gust blew over your exposed nerve. That's the cold. That's the cold that has seeped in. You don't want to move, but maybe the cold will not be as cold if you move. You exit the car.
>>17231557 You breathe in the musty air. It's cold. You can taste it in your mouth. You lock the car and walk on the footpath near your car. You pull up on your scarf to cover your nose and mouth. You don't want the cold air to touch your coldness. You just don't like it. You're scared what would happen too, but you don't want to think about it. You decide to make your walk a little more brisk. Yes, build up energy, build up heat. You sweat and you get more cold. You can't breathe well with the scarf. You take it off and inhale deeply. You forgot. The cold air has touched your coldness. And it all comes flooding in at once. All your past failures, everything that has gone wrong in your life, hatred. The bitter hatred that is now burning your lungs. You feel a couple of drops fall on your sleeve. Your eyes are wet. No. Go back to the car. You have a commute in 20 minutes. Get back now.
>>17231564 You slide to the ground. The park echoes with your curses, but no one comes. Not to check what's going on, not to tell you to shut up, nothing. No one comes. It's just cold. You get up and make your way to the car. You try your hardest to make it to the car, but this is not the way to the car. You have to be on your way in 5 minutes. You have five minutes to get to the car and go, but you're not facing the car. Your ankles are soaking wet and you are not facing the car. You can see clearly to the other side of the lake and this coldness feels right. You have 3 minutes but this coldness feels right. Get to the car. You stare at your watch tick down the seconds. Being late is fine. It's okay. Just leave now. You slosh forward, you can't really stop. Your vision sees the water line go up and up and you can't stop. In the murk, you can see nothing, maybe bits of water weeds but nothing more. It's cold and now you're tired, so very tired. The coldness in your chest burns. But this cold all around you, it feels right. Let it touch your coldness. You take a deep breath then it's all gone. The joggers soon come and the dog walkers and the parents with their excited kids. The light fog burned away, but you missed your commute.
Allan was the type of person you would look at and describe as a "beta". Shy, skinny, and average looks, he lack any form of confidence. He spent most of his time online, either attempting to sort through mountains of garbage for one funny joke, or working out his right bicep. He finally snapped when he saw that his favorite e-celeb had gotten engaged. He decided to go out and make something of himself.
>>17234953 He decided that he would head to the bar located next to the airport, where many travelers go when they need time to kill between flights. He choose this establishment so that if he made an ass of himself, he would never see those people again. Putting on the nicest clothes he owned, he called a cab and arrived at the bar, every scenario planned out in his head. He would first scout out any potential girls who he had a chance to get with. Step two was filling his blood with enough liquid courage to forget his inhibition. Finally, he would approach his target, hoping that she might be drunk enough to give him a chance.
>>17234982 Upon entering, he began to scan the place. It was set up like any other bar, a counter, tables, and in the back, a pool table. At first all he saw no available candidates, just couples, guys, women far out of his league, and women who were some how worse off then he was. He almost thought he actions wasted when he saw her. She was a little shorter then he was (about 5.7", he being 5.9") and a little bit thick, not fat, but just a bit above average. With her bright red hair in a bun, she sat by herself, sipping on a beer. She wore a superhero tee, with yoga pants that outlined her legs to a point were Allan had to prevent the rocket from launching.
>>17235010 He immediately went to the counter, and ordered a shot of whiskey, anything to calm his nerves. He had no taste for hard drinks, and he was reminded of this as the drink burned like gasoline all the way down. It did not matter though, as the alcohol began its work, and in just two minutes, he felt confident enough to approach her. Despite the drink, he still felt like a man about to go into battle, nervous to the bone. A foot from her, he was about to explode, with enough butterflies in his stomach to make a collector cream himself. With the fuse about to reach the powder, he asked her,"I..i..is this seat taken?" It was just a second, but it felt like a year. He mind stood at the edge of it's seat, like a NASA member at a rocket launch. She looked back, saw him, and smiled. Her words instantly caused him to celebrate in his mind,"No, you can sit here." He then began the carefully thought out conversations, where do you come from, where do you go? She was in town for he father's funeral, she did not know him well, but she still loved him.
>>17235053 With each word he felt like she wasn't interested in him. He began to worry that he might just make a friend tonight, but she said something that nearly silenced him. "Do you want to keep this conversation going at my hotel room?" He almost had to ask her to say it again, but when the words registered, he said yes. They called a cab, and headed out to the hotel. Along the way they discussed their love of the newest comic movie, and how they would have made the best directors despite knowing nothing of film. They arrived and they made their way upstairs. Now Allan was in no way an expert on the field of female anatomy, he had only had coitus one time with his high school girlfriend. So naturally her felt nervous about this. They continued to talk, when they both laughed at his joke, and their was a second of silence as they looked at each other. It felt like a century as their heads slowly closed the gap between them. Before he knew it, he limited experience with frenching was being used, as they held each other.
>>17235091 One thing led to another, one moment they were merely making out, then it was the groping. He had his hands up her shirt, and her hand was on his pants. She rolled onto her back, as he began to unbuckle his pants, ready for this most joyous of acts. But before his pants could leave his waist, his phone went off. Thinking it an emergency, he laughed and excused himself as she... prepared. He saw it to be a text, and when he opened it, his entire body went cold. On the screen, in bold letters were the horrifying words; wut r u doing wit my daughter?
>>17236652 "Boys & Girls of Every age...Wouldn't you like to see something strange?" "Come with us and you will see. This our town of halloween". These were the words uttered, as the long spindly spooky scary pumpkin king,dragged his pelvic regions across young billy's face..
Four concrete walls surround me. Below me, there is a black and white tiled floor. Above me, a glass roof. Through this roof I can tell the passing of day to night to day again. On this roof are four nozzles. These nozzles release a gas twice a day, at least. Once during high noon, once at midnight. The night gas puts me to sleep, the day gas nourishes me, or at least that's my best guess. I haven't felt hungry or thirsty for as long as I've been in this room. My muscle mass has decreased, but serious atrophy never sets in.
How long have I been here? For as long as I've been jailed, you'd think I would stop asking myself that question. But I can't help it. It's reflexive. Still, I've come to accept my living conditions. I have a bed, a toilet, and a sink. Cozy enough.
When I first woke up in this place, I was naked. My memories are sharp, the monotony of my existence makes even the most mundane details stand out in my head. And so, the first era of my new existence is crystal clear. I woke up, no clothes. I was delirious at first, then panic set in. What happened? Where am I? Did I get drunk? Am I in jail? Suddenly, all in a rush, I realized that I was naked and there were no clothes in the room. I covered myself reflexively and yelled. I yelled for a long time. I pounded the concrete walls. I kept yelling and beating until I heard the gas turn on. In an instant, I turned me head up, mouth agape. An orange mist floated down towards me. A new layer of panic set in. I gasped and held my breath. I kept it held, tears streamed down my face, until eventually I couldn't help but take a gulp of the foggy room, it was reflex. There was no taste. My will to live evaporated as I breathed in the strange mist. I figured it was over, a cruel but brief retribution for my sins. Perhaps it still is retribution, but it's anything but brief.
>>17237026 >When I first woke up in this place, I was naked. My memories are sharp, the monotony of my existence makes even the most mundane details stand out in my head. And so, the first era of my new existence is crystal clear. I woke up, no clothes. I was delirious at first, then panic set in. What happened? Where am I? Did I get drunk? Am I in jail? Suddenly, all in a rush, I realized that I was naked and there were no clothes in the room.
you told me you were naked already. you don't need to keep telling me this. bad literary economy.
>>17239047 Jan. 20, 2002 If it looks too good to be true, then it is. At least, that's what my father always told me. Ever since my mother's passing I've been a mess. Grades slipping, frequent absences from work, deterioration of my social life. Despite all of that though, I feel like my father took it much harder than anybody else. He was a very emotional man; he felt a lot. This was always ironic to me, because of his congenital insensitivity to pain. One night I heard him murmuring about how he would give anything to feel what she felt just before her death. I hope he's going to be alright. I decided to keep a log of how we've been getting through it - it feels sleazy, but I have to pass this class.
>>17241640 >be me >standing outside abandoned house >bored as fuck >see a group of kids coming to house >ohshititstime.jpeg >they hang around till night time >one goes into woods surrounded by house to take a leak >find him alone >throw a rock or something >distracts kid and he walks towards me >grab him >fast forward 10 minutes >friends wondering where kid is >I run out shouting here i am >kids ask what took so long >say i saw a raccoon >they buy it >ride home >go into house and meet dad >tells me to go to bed >wake up next morning and go to school >friends complain about smell >i hate smell too >they don't suspect a thing I skinwalk
>>17243482 Here's a little preview. tell me what you think
At one point I thought I was sick. But then my inner thoughts just told me to except it. There’s no more room for denial. I never accepted titles like “nymphomaniac” or “sex addict”. Any girl could get anybody to fuck them. My anorexic-like body keeps me desirable I guess so I assume any man would. What I prefer is true promiscuity, true voyeurism. With no feelings or emotion attached to the situation.
At one point I thought I was sick. But then my inner thoughts just told me to except it. There’s no more room for denial. Its time to give in to my own desires. I never accepted titles like “nymphomaniac” or “sex addict”. Any girl could get anybody to fuck them. My anorexic-like body keeps me desirable I guess so I assume any man would. What I prefer is true promiscuity, true voyeurism. With no feelings or emotion attached to the situation. Everybody has fetishes. Why can’t I? Sex was always suppressed as I was growing up. So I guess its not surprising that I grew up like this. The park is always a good spot to look for them. In a man’s imagination if a girl came up to them and said “I want you to have sex me” they would probably jump and say yes. But in reality is a lot harder than it sounds. I spot my first “target” he was short, kind chubby, but not fat, and looked a bit out of place. “an outsider, perfect” I thought. My smile wraps around my face as I approach him. The words “Hi, would you like to have sex with” came out of my mouth. He stared at me as if I was some unknown creature. “w-hat” he stuttered
“Would you like to have sex with me” I repeated. He continued to stare at me for a few seconds. His face got a scared-confused look. “you want to have sex with?” he said a bit louder than his words before “I’m not gonna repeat myself and holding this conversation is making it more awkward” As I finished talking he begins to walk away. I grab ahold of his arm “I like to have sex with strangers” I said. He begins to walk faster. I give up. They probably think I’m crazy or have a STD or something. All the men who say “no”, I thought men just wanted sex. No worries somebody will have to say yes. After two failed attempts I finally found a man. He was average height a bit on the browner side and was probably in his mid 30s. We went behind an old building that is located near the park. He took off his hants and he was already hard. “Straight to anal” I always say. I spread my asshole indicating that I want it in the butt. I haven’t spoken a word since the park. His cock was thrusting through my insides. I close my eyes and imagine the image him fucking me from a bird’s eye view. Just the image of being with a complete stranger, it just puts me in a trance. The man is letting out a subtle grunt as he cums inside. His orgasm, his climax, all inside me.
>>17243845 (cont) “Lets take this party to me place” I say as I pick up my panties. He puts on his pants and I lead him to my car that was parked only down the road. I asked him to drive and give him the car keys. While giving him the directions to my home I unzip his pants and start stroking his throbbing cock. It was still wet from his own cum from our previous sex. The thin film of cum around his penis made for good lubrication as my hands rubs up and down his shaft. I point out my house and tell him to park in my driveway. We go inside and his heart stopped It smelled horrid inside my house, but those scents just turn me on. I lock the door. He turns around only to see me with small white cloth in my hand. Not a moment later is he knocked out. Finally, at last he’s all mine. Starring at a still body is very pleasing to me. It just lays there with no goals or passion. He is soon waken up by the touch of my hands on his cock. He begins to scream to help
“HEEELLLPP” he screams repeatedly. I stuff his mouth with a gag and continue the procedure. I put him in medical bed with restraints. Removing their clothes is fun. They become completely naked and vulnerable. I cut the part of the fabric that cant be removed without him moving. He’s now completely naked. The look in his eyes is so pleasing, watching the hope drain out of their person. My lips wrap around his semi-hard cock. The best way to get them hard is to swish some warm water beforehand to make your mouth nice and warm. He’s trying to resist, he eventually comes to a full erection. Without hesitation I begin to ride his fully erect cock. I love it. His fear, my pleasure. Or maybe he’s enjoying it. Not matter, it’ll soon be over. I could feel his penis is about to cum. He lets out an even bigger grunt as my bone saw penetrates his right arm. The blood begins to spill Now he makes are noises of piercing agony. With the gag still in his mouth you could almost feel, sense or even smell the pain. I continue to saw off his arm until it is finally completely severed. His own eyes widened at the sight of his arm separated from his body. I put his cock in my asshole and continue to ride. I then proceed to his is half severed arm into my vagina. Every moment of the scene oozed with pleasure. His pain from having his arm cut off and his own astonishment from having a person use his own arm as sex toy. After a few minutes he passed out from blood loss. His cock hasn’t even been hard for while He’s pretty much done now. A quick stab to heard and he’s completely gone. I continue to cut up the body and use them for my own pleasure for the rest of the night. This is the sex I was referring too. No emotion. No attachment. Pure isolation. Me and my corpse.
Have you ever given thought to how cozy the insides of your headphones might seem to a wandering little spider? A safe, dark little nook to crawl into and hide. Until suddenly everything's shaking as you pick them up and put them on. Then for a moment everything's fairly still again, though darker, and a bit warmer. Maybe it peeks out of its hiding place a little bit... until the sudden wash of fresh vibrations right under its feet as you turn on your music sends the creature scrambling away from it, heading for the only escape route it can find, away from the thrumming sounds, into a dark, snug, warm, slightly moist tunnel, while you tear the headphones from your head and start to react...
>>17239227 Feb. 5, 2002 I wonder how much time it takes to heal a wound. Would more time be like leaving a bandage on a healed injury, or more like suffocating it; drawing out the recovery process? I lost my job, and fell out with people I am/was very close to. It may have been for the better, after all. My poor father has been looking really lonely lately and he really enjoys my company. While we were talking last night, he asked me about computers. He never really was into computers; often cursing my "pointless gizmos" whenever I was toying around with my BlackBerry or PlayStation. In all honesty, he's a decent looking guy and isn't THAT old. Maybe I could get him into online dating? It may be too soon though, so I'll have to ease him into it. It's not like I have much better to do...
>>17248910 When we are all born we play the game. The game is simple. You start at the beginning of the maze and you end up at the end, but you usually never know when the exact end is. It starts with a simple doorway and there is no way back. Once you open it you open your eyes and you are born. But your soul just entered the maze. Every day you inch further into the maze. But for me it's different, I watched you born. I watched you enter the maze and you cried because that is your first mistake. I watched you when you were held as a baby. Your parents thought you cried over the most trivial things, but you only cried because you know I'm just a wrong turn away. Every time you wandered too far away or stared into the dark rooms, I was there. You were afraid, not because of the dark but because you are still in the maze and I'm still watching you, waiting. One wrong move and I'll be right in front of you. As you became older you started to gain confidence. But you always knew I was watching. When you thought you were being followed at night or you thought someone was looking at you when there wasn't anyone there. It's because you took a turn wrong in the maze and I'm staring at you. Everyone meets me in the end, but no one knows how close they really are.....when was the last time you felt watched? >inb4 people guess who I am
>>17248661 Feb 7, 2002 I'm the best son on the planet! I managed to convince that old lovable fart to sign up for some obscure chat service. I was even there for his first message to a woman! He's rusty, but I could definitely tell that he's talked his way into a few panties in his prime. Despite my father's reintroduction into "the game", today isn't necessarily a day for celebration. Do you know those signs in industrial workplaces where it typically says something like "_ DAYS SINCE LAST ACCIDENT"? Well, if there were any signs like that around here, the number would've been flipped back to zero today. My father walked into the living room with a stream of blood pouring down his shoulder. Of course, he didn't feel anything due to his previously mentioned condition. I worry about him, for many reasons. One of which being his comfortability with walking in the dark. I was sleeping on the couch (it gets really cozy) and heard off-key humming, so I crept toward the light switch and flipped it on; terrifying both of us in the process. Even the slightest scratch can be dangerous if left unnoticed and untreated.
>>17248951 >ancient ruins >labyrinths In the year 2104 the paris catacombs were filled with cement and covered over to prevent collapses and prevent people from entering in. But as they were leading teams through the deep tunnels they found a video camera intact and memory modules still functional with a pile of bones miles away. Some believe they were from the same person because it followed the path from the camera to the person. The bones had another memory module next to it. They played the video first next to the person and this is what happened.
>video resolution 480p It started with a man calmly walking around and pointing the camera around. You can still see the intact walls and markings along the way. He continues to walk and hear him talk in his native how mad he is with himself. He continues to curse himself as he complains about feeling watched. He faced the camera at his face and you can tell he was no older then 21. He confessed he heard stories of the place and he had been drinking and decided to get inside. He starts crying saying he's been trapped for hours and is getting pretty tired of walking. He stops talking for a second and starts staring beyond the camera. You can tell his eyes are fixed on something, then his eyes dart off to the left and he screams into the camera and starts running with it. He continues to run and his heavy panting and footsteps appears to be followed by a clinking sound. He drops the camera and you can see him running away. The camera continues to record until something, or someone nudges the camera off.
Then they put on the video that was on the camera and found it very disturbing. >resolution 480p, red smokey haze An unknown amount of time has lapsed when the camera was turned back on, this time it turned on facing the same person. He was shaking scared. He opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out, it was completely dry and you can tell he was very dehydrated. He was panting and light headed. >continued..
>>17249023 >>17249023 >continued He sat down and there was red all over the walls. There was a sound of walking and he stood very still. His eyes widened and his mouth kept moving, trying desperately to describe what it was he was seeing. The sound creeped further and further closer. He look up as if seeing someone looking down at him. That's when he closed dropped the camera and ran away again....This time the camera mysteriously turned off. You can always run from death, but he is always watching.
>>17249195 The average man fears how he will die,the thinking man on the other hand will fear what will happen to him after he dies,what lies beyond the veil of contemporary life,how will one's eternity be spent after their last minute on this world.Will they find themselves immersed in a burning hell or a blank void,will they find the light of divinity or cease to be altogether.
True despair though lies upon the empathetic man.The man who thinks of not of him self but of the ones close to him that are gone.Because he's went beyond what the thinking man fears and realized that not only he will face the afterlife but all who he holds dear to his aged relatives who do not have much longer on this earth to his small children will endure the same fate as both him and all of mankind.
It's was at night, and my shift just ended. I packed my bag, gathered my belongings, and prepared to make the venture out of H building and into the cold air.
I put my hat and gloves on. "It's been a long day" I thought.
I work at a chemicals facility that creates plastics in Washington. Most of my days include me endlessly mixing and measuring the right proportions, pressing buttons, running machines, etc. So its safe to say I dont have the most exciting job, but it pays decent and I cant complain. Today I had the most annoying headache, which didn't strike me as too odd at first, until what came next. When I stepped outside, I looked out into the distance in front of me and noticed someone standing about a football field's distance away, underneath a streetlight. They were just standing there, unmoving, and barely illuminated considering the fact that the light was dim/probably about to go out. This was a little unsettling, but I didn't bother worrying about it. I turned to my left and went down some stairs to head to the parking lot. My headache was getting worse and making it hard to hold my head up. "Fuck I need another Aleve". I looked up, and there they were again. That same figure, under a different, but similarly dimmed streetlight on another road. It was around now I began to wonder if I inhaled something residual that was causing the headache and imposing apparent hallucinations. I got out my phone to call a friend of mine who was the branch manager who was working overtime to pull out the MSDS to console to get to the root of this and find out if I should go to a hospital or not.
He didn't answer his cell phone, which was alarming. I needed to know what to do, and the headache was getting even worse. At this point I was also getting the strangest ringing in my ear that was getting progressively louder. "The hallucinations are intensifying" I thought. I got to my car, put my belongings inside, sat down, and locked the door. I sighed a deep sigh and put my key into the ignition, and put my seat belt on. But then suddenly I heard "ssssssssss", then "sssssssSSSSSSSS" it was getting louder. "SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS" It came from my right, the passengers seat. I looked to my right. There it was, a dark silhouette. I yelled and started to get out of the car only to fail to take off my belt and still be stuck. Oddly enough, something stopped me. It wasnt this thing, no, just.. a feeling. I closed my door and looked to my right. "What do you want?" I asked. "SSSSSSSSAM" it said. I was pretty concerned at this point, Sam was the name of my friend. "You... want Sam?"I replied. It stopped speaking at this point and appeared to dissipate into nothingness. I was beginning to think that maybe my subconscious was imposing the name of my friend through a hallucination since I was so concerned earlier with contacting them. I got a call on my phone just then. Sam. I answered it.
"Hello?" I asked. What happened next shocked me the most. Sam said that he walked into his office to be confronted by a dark silhouette, and that rather than leave, he walked closer and asked what it wanted. "David" it said.
My name is Dave.
I didn't quit my job, but we both were pretty sketched out after I explained to him what had happened to me. Neither of us have encountered this thing ever again, but to be honest, were concerned.
>>17250440 There's an old church own the road from my house. I wouldn't call it abandoned, but it definitely isn't in regular use. Anyway there's an old rumor around that there's a bible within that can't be removed from the building. Basically you can pick it up, but as you get closer to the door it gets heavier and heavier until eventually you can carry it no longer. Not the spoopiest story, but hey that was my roll. Pic is church.
>>17251579 They all claim he's a hero.They praise him,claiming he's their protector who risk his life to watch over them.They're all fools,though some people, smart people,used to point out that he doesn't nullify all crime that much,he used to stop about 1% of the crime in his home town.Murders aren't that common,you usally don't walk down the street and see someone getting murdered or robbed.Let me ask you,have you seen a murder once let alone twice? If a vigilante were to patrol a massive city do you think he would actually stop all that much crime? The majority of crime he would fight would be ones he found out from police reports and scanners.Things that the police would already involved in.You don't think a city with millions living in it would be able to find some decent detectives? That were the real freak come in.
>>17251780 When a crazy man dressed in a cape shows up to fight crime there's a counterbalance.You get all sort of crazies terrorizing the place.That makes smart people I mentioned shut up.They figure if the heroic nut is fighting criminal nuts there's no problem,but there is.This hero is one who tortures,spies and violates every imaginalble civil liberty.He does that to the freaks so it's condsidered ok.People defend it.It's not the freaks he should be worried about.When people worship an oppressor it makes it easier to oppress.I reconiged this.I tried to investigate this vigilate.I dug up a lot of dirty secrets on this man,but when you reach out you stick out.I was discovered by the "hero" and captured.I expected to get some kangeroo trial but I didn't even get that.I disappared from the record books.Everyone I knew or loved also disappeared.I soon discovered the biggest secret the vigilante had to hide.
Those freaks that appeared after he did were not a counterbalance as many thought.No,they were a false justification for his actions and a damnation for his opponets.Right now I sit forgotten in this asylem in between being experimented on.My mind is being increasingly damaged with my memeories being fractured and my sanity being split.That's nothing compared to what they've done to my face.Not only am I unreconizable,but they've made me look like some twisted clown
>>17252605 My surroundings are not very well lit. The occasional torch, the walls made out of skulls. There are multiple corridors I can walk down, but one lit with red catches my eye. Towards it only to be greeted by a tall humanoid goat-like figure. He has a human torso, hooves for feet, and a goat head. He lunges towards me not making a single sound and grabs my arms.
He leads me down the red-lit corridor where there is a portal. The portal was red mixed with orange swirls. The smell was unbearable. It smelt of a rotting carcass and sulfur, the smell was so strong my eyes began to water. The goat-man pushed me into the portal which took me back to my childhood home, the place where I had enjoyed my life the most. I saw my deceased mother rocking in the rocking chair, who then looked up at me.
"Mother?" I whispered. I was overwhelmed with emotions, such as anger, sadness, and happiness. I quickly walked over to her and wrapped my arms around her.
"Hello son, welcome to the afterlife." she said calmly.
This didn't feel like reality anymore. It felt as if I were trapped in a dream with no escape. I was finally in peace, I no longer had to struggle to keep myself happy. I tried. It's not very good lmao.
>be collegefag >move in to oldest dorm on campus >rumours that it is haunted and that people get spooked >haunted my ass >first couple of nights hear strange noises >suspiciously sounding like rattling of some sort >begin to feel unnerved >every night the rattling gets louder >gets to the point where i cannot sleep >after many dreamless nights decide to brave the dark corridors and look for the source >loud rattling wherever I go >suddenly the realisation overcomes me >the rattling comes from within >I begin to shake, and contemplate my dark and evil situation at hand >it was always too late >the skeleton is inside of me >'no'
Then I found a sexy skellington girl in the closet and we boned
>you feel scratches all over your body >you wake up because of the scratches >suddenly you see something long and small crawling under your fucking skin everywhere >You trap one with your fingers and pop it out, it's a fucking long white worm!
>the worm popps out with a high speed, it lands on the floor and jumps towards you and hit you on the mouth quicky goes into your eye
>you scream and try to remove the other worms, but they jump allways back to you
>>17254752 skellingtonz it is SO THIS ONE TIEM THERE WAS A BOY NAMED TIMMY TIMMY WAS BULLIED AT SCHOOL ADN ABUSED AT HOME HE WAS A VERY SAD BOY BUT ONE DAY HE THE BULLIES TRIED TO SHOVE HIM INTO A LOCKER AND A SKULLINGTON POPPED OUT!!!1 IT KLILD ALL TEH BULLIES AND TIMMYS PARENTS AND TIMMY WAZ SAEF BUT THEN THE SKLELMINGTON KILD TIMMY!!!!!!! AND THAN TIMMY WAZ A SKELPERTON!!!!!!1!!1! NOW TIMMY HAUNTS TEH LOCKR WHERE HE MET THE SKELLINGTON AND WAITS FOR HIS NEXT VICTIM the edn
I have a friend comparable to a stranger you can say hes an angel in disguise, meant in a certain way of course , sarcastically funny due to the fact hes literally an angel. Anyways his superiors being me and my equal are very sophisticated to say the least. Yes we may have our ways where some might not understand why we do the things we do but those closest to me and my equal know why, anyways this stranger has friends in high places so he doesent like getting intoxicated in their presence but he will do so in private as if its not known what hes doing. This friend called on me asking for my help, first thing he did when he saw me he became beligerent and tried to confuse me as if I was some type of fool. So me and my superiors got in touch with him come to find out I dont think he recognizes me so we let him be we put him in a rehab family owned and he got better he was more receptive also eventually he learned how to talk to me and my family properly. Therefore I decided if he could take instruction and redeem himself that I might consider taking him under my wing but at this point and stage I will deal with him at a distance due to confusion within him. As I said he is kind of deceitful and his intentions seem malicious.I will fix him though he will learn to approach me in a correct manner and he will be taken care of.
Grandma has the best scissors. It glides through everything. It glided when I had to cut paper for arts & craft. It glided when I tried it on some of the old magazines. It glided when I tried it on some fliers, receipts, plastic bags -- everything I cut, it cuts through so easily.
The best part is the sound it makes as it tears through the material. It's a crisp, silent sort of sound that you can feel better than you can hear it. It is satisfying... yet I'm still left unsatisfied.
I look around and see a world of possibilities. Each material has its own sound. I try it on a couple of books, listening closely as I work my way page after page. I try it on the cereal box. Cardboard sounds nice.
I trim the curtains a little bit. It looks better like this anyway. I trim my jeans. No one would notice. My shirt's a little too long so I trim that too. My hair has reached my shoulders. It needs trimming.
I heard it.
I heard it so close!
It's beautiful! Hair creates a beautiful sound!
The shorter I snip my hair, the louder I can hear the sound. I a couple of times more, but a few centimeters above my ear, the sound started to lose its volume.
I wonder what these ear shells are for. I figure we don't really need them to hear. --- (Meh.)
>>17256685 I had no idea what had happened. I had been driving along the highway on my way to work, just like any other wednesday morning. Of course i hadn't gotten much sleep, i'd been up all night reading creepy stories on the internet. But anyway. I was speeding to work in my Toyota, and i had noticed that my shirt wasn't buttoned up. I had began to button the shirt, but that top button just wasn't cooperating. In my stress to get the shirt fixed, and in my sleep-drunken state i guess, i let go of the wheel for a short moment. And then everything went black, Well, for a few seconds anyway, then all i could see was fire. I was trapped in the burning wreck of my car. I struggeled to un-do the seatbelt, but it was impossible! I couldn't figure out why! That's when i noticed my hand was gone. Right arm gone clean up to the elbow. Well, i've still got ol' lefty, i figured. I un-did the seatbelt and opened the driver's door. I fell out onto the... Burning coals. I was being incinerated. Strange though, it didn't feel so bad. It was not like a burning sensation, more like the kind of heat you feel when you sink into a hot bath-tub. Hmph, not so bad i thought. I stood up and began to walk to work. There were others, of course, walking with me. Lots of people. They were all kind of like me, missing a hand, or parts of their torso, some even with no legs, they had to crawl forward using their arms. Funny. There were thousands of us now, all going to work. To work? I looked ahead where my office should be. In its stead was a large, towering spire, seemingly made from polished black rock. I had to hurry up, i thought to myself. I fixed my eyes on the glowing charcoals on the ground. Or i'll be late, my boss won't be happy with me. My boss? Suddenly i bumped into something. Strange, i thought. Two hooves. I looked up...
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