#HorrorStory

[kazhinau]

hi everyone, i created a creepypasta about the photo where phil is seen through their doorbell camera in the video amazingphil did "what dan and phil text eachother 3". it's not finished yet, thought theres 2 chapters for now. please read it and tell me if you like it!

[daniel-profeta]

The Head

There was a place between sleep and wakefulness where anything could be possible. A haze of forgotten dreams and lost promises. Her hands hung out of the window and the gleeful grin on her face was infectious. She floated between states of being completely alive and nearly dead, but right then she was whole. He smiled back and sped up as the car careened across the mountainside. The world was awash in pink as the sun set. The trees opened on one side to give way to the entire countryside with the dead city just beyond it. It was all so real; they could almost reach out and touch it.

In a past world they were barely friends, but shared experience can bring people together in a way nothing else can. He was well acquainted with this concept already as his parents had bonded over their mutual hatred of their absent father figures. He had always hoped he could break the cycle, but some patterns are more universal than anyone could have imagined.

For example, the cycle of life had finally taken a turn and allowed something new to become apex. Finally, something had surpassed the limits of human ability and taken the worms out. All that remained were ruins and some survivors. Small communities of huddled forms abounded in the wilderness, and they both knew some humans had been kept alive in the cities. All that was left was to hide and wait for death. Or so thought most survivors.

Not them, not these humans, they had taken advantage of the situation and had risen. With gallons of stockpiled gasoline, stolen weapons, food reserves, and ingenuity, they were rulers of the wasteland. They found each other and found a hope that lasted beyond anything they had yet experienced. They were one of the few who managed to carve out a life beyond simple survival, they had become explorers of a new world filled with wonders and powerful entities just beyond the layers of hopeless chaos. They were heading to the dead city to try and loot it and see what they could learn. It seemed every place they found had a story to tell regarding the end of times. He put his foot down further and they sped up.

They had become each other's shadows. In everything they did they fed off each other’s energy and had almost become one person. At first working together was difficult, but with practice they had gotten so good it seemed impossible to stop them. He would rather go a week without food or water than go a week without her company, and thanks to current circumstances that exact scenario had occurred on multiple occasions. He couldn’t believe she had stuck with him for so long, and in everything they shared everything. Except for one twisted secret.

He was dying.

Something had taken hold of him inside and he had no idea what it was. He believed he had contracted it in the bunker they had stormed a few months prior, but where he got sick was immaterial. Last week the coughs had gotten worse, and he had started coughing up blood. Earlier today he found himself coughing up what looked like black sludge. His body, once strong and lean, was weakening. He could feel his brain burning and shriveling as his eyes stung every time he tried to close them. He couldn’t sleep.

She knew something was wrong and had asked him about it, but he had lied repeatedly to try and protect her from the knowledge she would soon be alone. He somehow knew in his heart this disease would finish him; it was something inevitable. He just had to try to hold on as long as possible.

They made their way down the mountainside, and through the tall grasses that paved the way to the city as well as any road. They had gotten incredibly lucky with the car they had found; it was built to last decades. Most recent car models were victims of planned obsolescence and were vastly overpriced, but the rich had vehicles most could never dream of. No longer. Now it belonged to the strongest and the smartest.

Darkness snuck up on the world slowly and like a wave descended and crashed onto the city, illuminating through polarity the small fires still sending smoke signals up into the dry night air. As they entered the core of the city, they felt alive. Her hand crept over to his and squeezed. Driving through the empty city at night was almost romantic in a strange way. Despite everything, they still existed. Despite all the world had been through, they had found and sustained each other through love and devotion.

Parking the car and looking up at the towering skyscrapers, they were struck by how small they were in comparison to these edifices of human achievement that were slowly eroding and falling into the ground. The earth would swallow them up and time would roll on by, totally unbothered by their presence. It was freeing and exhilarating, because with this knowledge comes the idea that one can live life for the joy of living beyond the idea of constraint and boundaries. There is nothing but the never ending potential of endless wonders, and the only sadness could be regret that you don’t have time to see even the smallest fraction of them. All that was inconsequential all along is revealed. Everything comes to an end, and it was foolish to ever try to convince themselves otherwise.

There was a faint sound carried by the wind from a far distant part of the city. It sounded like a distorted voice being carried aloft by a long-broken loudspeaker, probably a forgotten loop of the old advertisements that would constantly play to remind people to consume till they could actively consume no more. Then they would be shunted aside.

Their lips met and lingered, the doors opened, and they exited in tandem, armed and ready for anything that might come their way. There were not many humans who could say they had killed one of the creatures. They had killed many of them in that bunker where he had gotten sick…

They started to search the rubble and inside smaller buildings for anything useful. Small radios kept them in contact as they split up and moved slowly through the ruins like cats on the prowl. Focus was razor sharp. They could see their breath in the cold of the night. Days had been slowly growing colder and colder since the sun had begun to shrink.

He suddenly was wracked with self-doubt and faltered as the sickness almost overcame him. He knew he did not deserve this situation. Why was it he who managed to survive and not someone who needed to? Before the end came, he hadn’t had any direction in life, and he actively felt life had no purpose or reason to it. He couldn’t stand to look at himself in a mirror, he felt as though this body was not his own. He was not really that great of a person, but he had been forced by either hidden courage or simple instinct to adapt and stay alive.

Now he had a girl who would die to protect him, and he would do the same for her. But he couldn’t help but feel as though there was no reason it was he who made it this far. As he stopped to catch his breath, he realized that - in a way - he was happy he had gotten sick. He felt it was justified if he died.

Her voice, distorted yet obviously excited, came blowing out of the radio to inform him she had found something. He smiled at the thought of her. It had not been easy for her, yet she had retained her enthusiasm for life and living despite the circumstances. Mostly.

Occasionally, there would be mood swings where she would feel like she was completely worthless and attempt to take her own life. Thankfully, they balanced each other out and kept each other's doubt and self-hatred in check. It was a system that might work better if he was as honest with her as she was with him. But that is something he felt he couldn’t do.

As he moved quickly to her position, he tried to imagine life without her. Life without her smile. Without her daily kindness and thoughtfulness. Without her unconditional love. Without her soul staying beside his.

He coughed again.

She rushed to him and they embraced beneath an awning of sheer metal hanging out over what looked to have formerly been a restaurant of some kind. Her hug was warm and bracing and his worries left him, at least at that time.

She was holding a Journal that was wrapped in some strange animal skin. He ran his hands over it and asked her what it was. She told him it was either crocodile or alligator, but it might have been fake. Not that it mattered, the book itself was real. She had discovered it in a single-story home that had remained mostly intact. She opened it and showed him what she had been reading.

The name signed inside the front cover was nearly illegible, but after staring at it for a few seconds he thought it read “Rick.” He took the book and started flipping through it. It felt strange to hold, as if it were cursed. Evil. It was only a teenager’s diary, and it felt like an invasion of privacy to even be reading it. But there was no helping it, any discovery of what had caused the end of the world was worth it. What had happened leading up to it? Why had the sun gotten smaller? How did civilization collapse so quickly?

As she realized the book felt odd, she started looking around them and felt increasingly that something was invading them. They were not cats, they were mice. Insidious and slimy, it crept within and caught hold. Despair was setting in, and something weird was happening in the sky above them. The stars had gone black.

Looking up, they felt a sickly turning in their stomachs as long tendrils or ropes began to descend from the sky. These eerie tentacles were like nothing else these naïve humans had viewed before and following them up with their eyes found no place where the dead hanging ropes could originate from. It just seemed like they went up into the sky forever. Slowly lowering down to choke any fool caught in the grasp of self-doubt.

A split second of hesitation almost destroyed them both at once, but the universe had other plans for them. They stared in awe and fear at the slender limbs as more and more slowly appeared in the inky black sky. Then he grabbed her hand and bolted for the rubble of the home she had found the book in. In the air behind them small floating lights started opening and illuminating the large gaping pores on the falling limbs with a cold and calculating pale light. Daring to look back revealed the lights were darting alien eyeballs suspended at random points in the air, slowly floating and all staring at these idiot humans who got far too overconfident.

She slammed the rusty door shut as the sound of the loudspeakers in the distance faded, replaced by a single repeating sound that continually rang out at seemingly timed intervals. The sound was that of the chiming of a bell; small, sharp, and eager to annoy with its piercing yell. They had heard this sound before, and both knew they were going to die. It was not a matter of if, but a matter of when and how gruesomely. His sickness was starting to overtake him.

They locked their eyes together and realized they were going to be stuck in the dilapidated house for a while. Long enough to at least learn from the diary of Mr. Rick. Maybe it would reveal something secret information they could use to escape this god-forsaken place? At the very least it would pass the time before their fates were sealed. They moved furniture into position to block the door, but soon heard a strange hissing sound coming from outside. It was the sound of acid devouring or water being eviscerated by fire. The things outside were trying to get in. But what the humans did not know was they already had gotten in..

listen to the song I wrote to accompany this story.

[mentalabrasion-blog]

Dilly-dally through the sideshow masquerade

Freaks eating faces and gnawing bones

Pulses race and sales transact behind

Carnival lights and nightmare kaleidoscopes

Grease paint smiles smeared and

Glistening beneath starry eyes

And hungry laughter while they

Spin the wheel and take a swing

For tomorrow will never know

Your name,

Only what you tasted like

In blood-stained tents

Where the shadows

Sup

[dwellerofthedark]

HALLOWEEN CELEBRATION October 1st: The Black Cat #halloween #horrorstori...

[fujiuro]

"About Our Eternal Bond: Bon's Obsession (Bon Obsession! X Reader)"

You never should have returned to Bunny Smiles Incorporated, but something

--perhaps a strange curiosity or a deep-seated need to unravel the mysteries that haunted that place—

drew you back to the old pizzeria, now abandoned and in ruins. The tales of disappearances, the lost voices, and the secrets buried beneath layers of rust and dust had always haunted you, yet the morbid pull was irresistible.

The place was exactly as depicted in those disturbing tapes you had watched, the ones that chronicled the downfall of Bunny Smiles.

The lights were off, and the air reeked of mildew and rust. The once-beloved animatronics that had delighted children were now mere twisted shadows of their former selves.As you wandered through the dark corridors, you felt a familiar presence. Bon, the blue rabbit animatronic, stood there on the empty stage. But something was different

—his usually blank eyes now gleamed with an unsettling intensity, as if something conscious, something hungry, resided within him."You came back," the metallic, distorted voice echoed through the empty hall, tinged with a disturbingly sweet tone. "I knew you couldn't resist... You belong here."A wave of dread washed over you, but your legs felt rooted to the ground. Bon slowly moved off the stage, each step echoing in the silence of the pizzeria. He began speaking of "eternity" and "union," his words dripping with a sickening obsession. He believed that for you two to be together forever, you needed to become "one of them."He led you to the back of the pizzeria, to a room you had never seen before

—dark, cramped, filled with disassembled animatronic parts and loose wires. In the center of the room, one of the old animatronic suits hung open, empty and waiting, as if it had been prepared just for you. The smell of old metal and oil made your stomach churn.Bon, with an insane glint in his eyes, approached. "I'll take care of you, protect you... forever," he murmured as he extended his metallic hands, ready to force you into the suit. You realized with horror that to him, this wasn’t just an obsession

—it was an inevitable destiny he was determined to fulfill.You knew that if you didn’t escape now, you would be trapped in that suit forever, your consciousness imprisoned alongside the darkest secrets of Bunny Smiles Incorporated. Time seemed to slow as you fought desperately to break free, knowing that with each passing second, Bon drew closer, ready to complete his twisted plan.

---This version ties Bon’s obsession into the dark and unsettling context of *The Walten Files*, making full use of the old pizzeria's atmosphere and the psychological horror that permeates the series.

[harmonyhealinghub]

The Echo in the Walls Shaina Tranquilino October 1, 2024

Amelia and Jonathan had been searching for a fresh start, away from the noise and chaos of the city. The mansion they found, nestled deep within a forest, seemed like the perfect escape. Towering and ancient, with ivy crawling up its stone walls, it was a place shrouded in mystery. But the price was too good to ignore.

“This feels like a dream,” Amelia said as they stood in the grand foyer, gazing at the high, arched ceilings and marble floors. The place had a cold beauty to it, untouched by time, as though it had been waiting for them.

Jonathan smiled, squeezing her hand. “It’s perfect.”

But on the first night, as they lay in bed, Amelia heard something strange—a soft, almost imperceptible whisper, like wind sliding through cracks in the walls.

“What was that?” she asked, sitting up, her heart quickening.

Jonathan shrugged sleepily. “Probably just the wind. The place is old, after all.”

Amelia nodded, though she wasn’t convinced. As the days passed, the whispering became more persistent. At first, she thought it was her imagination. But then the whispers began to take shape, forming words—words she didn’t want to hear.

"He’s going to leave you."

She froze the first time it happened, standing alone in the long, dark hallway outside their bedroom. The voice was faint, almost tender, but unmistakable. It sounded like her own thoughts echoing back to her from the walls.

Amelia told herself it was stress. Moving had been difficult. Adjusting to a new place, especially one so isolated, could play tricks on the mind. She didn’t tell Jonathan. How could she explain that the house seemed to know her darkest fears?

But the whispers grew louder. At night, as they sat by the fireplace, she could hear them—soft murmurs hidden beneath the crackling of the flames. The voices whispered of betrayal, of loneliness, of secrets Jonathan was keeping.

"He’s hiding something from you."

One evening, Amelia finally asked, “Have you heard anything strange in the house?”

Jonathan looked at her, frowning. “Like what?”

“I don’t know,” she hesitated. “Like… voices?”

He laughed, though the sound was strained. “You’re just imagining things. This place is big. Old houses settle, creak.”

But that night, Amelia woke to the sound of Jonathan speaking in his sleep. She turned toward him, her pulse quickening.

"You can’t protect her."

She sat up, eyes wide. His lips moved, the words barely audible, but there was no mistaking the fear in his voice. He was dreaming, caught in some nightmare. But whose words were they?

The next morning, Jonathan was quiet, distant. When Amelia asked if he was okay, he brushed her off.

But she knew the truth. The house was getting to him too.

Days turned into weeks, and the mansion’s whispers became an ever-present hum. Amelia began to lose sleep. The whispers echoed in her ears, feeding her anxiety, telling her things she didn’t want to believe.

"He’s tired of you."

"You’re not enough."

The walls felt alive, like they were watching her, waiting for her to break. She avoided the mirrors, terrified of what she might see in them. Her reflection felt foreign, her mind unraveling under the weight of the house’s secrets.

One evening, as the sun set behind the thick trees, Amelia confronted Jonathan.

“Something’s wrong with this place,” she said, her voice trembling. “The walls… they know things. They’re telling me things.”

Jonathan’s face darkened. “Amelia, stop. You’re letting it get to you. It’s just a house.”

“No, it’s not!” she cried. “I can hear them, Jonathan. And I know you can too.”

For a moment, his expression softened. He opened his mouth to speak, but then the whispers came, louder than ever before, echoing between them.

"He’s already planning to leave you."

Jonathan’s eyes flickered, and in that brief second, Amelia knew the truth. The whispers weren’t lying.

With trembling hands, she backed away from him. “What have you been hiding from me?”

Before he could answer, a violent gust of wind tore through the room, rattling the windows. The house groaned, as if waking from a deep sleep. The whispers grew louder, drowning out their voices.

"It’s too late now."

Suddenly, the walls began to tremble. Cracks appeared, snaking across the ceiling like veins. Amelia’s heart pounded in her chest as the mansion seemed to close in around them. The whispers rose to a deafening roar.

And then, silence.

Jonathan stood frozen, his eyes wide, his face pale. "Amelia…" he whispered, but the fear in his voice was unmistakable.

The walls had spoken the truth.

The mansion had been waiting for them all along.

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating, as if the mansion were holding its breath. Amelia felt the chill of dread wrap around her like a shroud. She wanted to run, to escape the walls that seemed to pulse with an unseen energy, but Jonathan stood rooted in place, his face pale and expressionless.

“Amelia, we need to get out of here,” he finally said, breaking the heavy stillness. His voice was laced with fear, and for the first time, she saw the uncertainty in his eyes.

She nodded, feeling a surge of adrenaline. They turned toward the door, but as they stepped into the hallway, the whispers returned, cascading around them like a wave.

"You can’t escape your fate."

They hurried down the corridor, each step echoing ominously, but the whispers grew louder, swirling around them, drowning out their thoughts. The shadows seemed to stretch and twist, creeping closer with every passing second.

“Amelia!” Jonathan grabbed her arm, his grip tightening. “We have to stick together!”

She met his gaze, her heart racing. “We can’t let the house take us! We need to find a way to break whatever hold it has on us!”

They raced toward the main staircase, but as they reached the bottom, the house trembled again, and the whispers turned to a cacophony, a terrifying symphony of their deepest fears.

"He will leave you. You are nothing without him."

Amelia clutched her head, overwhelmed. “Stop! Just stop!” she screamed into the dark void.

Then, in that moment of desperation, she recalled the legend she had read about the mansion—a story of a family that had succumbed to the house’s whispers, unable to resist the pull of their own insecurities. But it also spoke of a way to silence the echoes: one had to confront the source of their fears.

“Jonathan!” she shouted over the noise, her voice fierce. “We have to face it! We need to confront what we’re afraid of!”

He hesitated, confusion and fear mingling in his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“The house feeds on our doubts! If we face what we fear the most, it might lose its power!”

Before Jonathan could respond, the walls shuddered violently, and a shadow darted past them. It was as if the very essence of the house was alive, writhing and grasping for them.

“Together,” Amelia urged, gripping his hand tightly. “We can do this together.”

They took a deep breath and faced each other. “I’m scared you’ll leave me,” Amelia admitted, her voice shaking. “That I’m not enough for you.”

Tears shimmered in Jonathan’s eyes. “I’m scared that I’ll fail you, that I won’t be able to protect you. But I love you, Amelia. I don’t want to lose you either.”

With those confessions, the whispers quieted, but they weren’t gone. Instead, they morphed into a softer, almost melancholic tone, as if the house itself were listening.

Amelia pressed on, her voice steady. “I’m afraid of being alone, of not being able to find my way. But I know I’m stronger than this place. We both are.”

The walls trembled again, but this time, they felt more alive than threatening. Jonathan nodded, his resolve strengthening. “I refuse to let this place take us. I love you, and together, we can face anything.”

With their hands clasped tightly, they moved deeper into the house, each step echoing their newfound strength. They faced the whispers together, acknowledging the fears that had haunted them since their arrival.

As they climbed the grand staircase, the air grew lighter, the oppressive darkness fading. The whispers became mere murmurs, like distant memories rather than threats.

Finally, they reached the room at the end of the hall—the library, where the walls were lined with books, tales of love and loss, joy and sorrow. In the center of the room stood a massive fireplace, cold and empty.

Amelia knelt beside the hearth, touching the stones. “This is where it ends,” she whispered, taking a deep breath. “We need to cleanse this place of its hold over us.”

Jonathan joined her, and together they gathered kindling from the surrounding shelves—pages torn from books that had whispered secrets of fear and despair. They stacked the wood in the fireplace, their hands steady despite the trembling walls.

“Are you ready?” he asked, looking into her eyes.

“Yes,” she said firmly. “Let’s burn away the fear.”

Jonathan struck a match and lit the kindling. Flames danced and flickered, casting a warm glow around the room. As the fire grew, the whispers grew frantic, rising in pitch and intensity, but they held their ground.

“Leave us!” Amelia shouted. “You have no power here!”

The flames roared, and with a final wail, the whispers faded into silence. The house trembled violently for a moment, and then—calm.

As the fire crackled, the room felt different. The air was lighter, the oppressive energy that had weighed on them lifted. They looked at each other, tears of relief in their eyes.

“Did we do it?” Jonathan whispered, his voice a mix of hope and disbelief.

Amelia smiled through her tears. “I think we did.”

They embraced, feeling the warmth of each other, of love conquering fear. The mansion, once a prison of whispers, now stood transformed, its shadows retreating into the corners.

Hand in hand, they stepped outside into the golden light of dawn. The forest around them was serene, birds chirping, sunlight filtering through the trees.

“We’re free,” Jonathan said, looking back at the mansion.

“Yes,” Amelia replied, a sense of peace settling in her heart. “And now we can start anew.”

Together, they walked away, leaving the echoes of the past behind, ready to embrace whatever lay ahead.

[itsmedevroland]

Buckshot Roulette But I SUCKED #gaming #gameplay #robloxgames #funny #sprunki #funnyvideo #robloxgames #masterkairobot #horrorstory #robloxtycoon #robloxhorrorgames #roblox #shorts #horrorstory #funnyvideo #robloxgames #robloxedit https://youtu.be/Zlv8KIVqnpg

[screamingeyepress]

Dracula’s Guest

By Bram StokerDracula's Guest is a chilling prelude to Dracula that follows an Englishman who, against all warnings, ventures out on a stormy evening near Munich and stumbles upon an abandoned graveyard.

📚 Bram Stoker’s Dracula’s Guest is an underappreciated classic for gothic literature fans. https://www.screamingeyepress.com/pulps/stories/draculas-guest-by-bram-stoker/

[horrorstreet]

Sam Winchester

Lazy Sundays (Platonic)

Cuddled Up

[memoirsofamonsters]

Memoirs of a Monster Societ episode 1. The Devil of Algiers.

Welcome to Memoirs of a Monster Society, where we delve into the chilling tales and mysterious legends that haunt the darkest corners of our world. In this inaugural episode, we unravel the spine-tingling story of The Devil of Algiers, a terrifying urban legend from New Orleans that has intrigued and terrified residents for nearly a century.

The Devil of Algiers takes us back to the 1930s, a time when the quiet neighborhood of Algiers was suddenly thrust into a state of fear and paranoia. Witnesses described seeing a creature with bat-like wings, glowing red eyes, and sharp horns. This entity, dubbed the Devil Man, was said to leap great distances, attacking unsuspecting people and then vanishing into the night. The legend created such a panic that the community lived in constant fear, dreading the moment when the Devil Man might strike again.

[daniel-profeta]

The Knife

You are so fucking tired of the potholes. Lately it’s been raining more and more and now it’s pouring down from the heavens with a vengeance, filling the pesky holes in the road and making it impossible to navigate properly. You could kill someone right now with the amount of rage you feel, but you somehow manage to hold yourself together as you barrel down the street. You make a left turn and head into the woods just outside of what used to be your home.

The city is in shambles. The world is going to heal without you, but it has changed so drastically since the return of the demons. You drive haphazardly through the trees as the truck nearly spins out of control multiple times. The radio plays some poppy 80s songs as you wonder how any stations are still active. So much doesn’t make sense, but none of it matters anymore because you’ve lost the only thing you ever actually cared about. They ruined your life. This planet was already dying, you had known for a long time and had been preparing for years. You had always considered yourself to be more cultured and intelligent than the hicks that used to live out here, but you committed fully to your bunker and prep work. What you hadn’t counted on was the weirdness of it all. The impossibility of how events had actually played out. Now your family was dead, and it was entirely your fault. The trees sway in the wind and the leaves darken the sky above you as lighting flashes become your main source of illumination. Though it was supposed to be midday, you could never take vision for granted any longer. Not after how many illusions you have fallen victim to already. You change the station and park the car. Deep in the woods you contemplate your family’s terrible fate as you pull out a pack of cigarettes. Vaping has not really been an option since the beginning of the end. The radio is now playing some pretentious hipster shit. You roll down a window and let the engine run. Some rain gets in and eats away at the mat on the floor, but you couldn’t care less. Your fingers move to your lips as you take a long slow drag, letting the ashes fall to the floor of the truck. Your mind clears and you look around at the filthy vehicle. You’ve got a large pistol lying on the seat next to you and you reach out to cradle it in your filthy hands. This is what became of you. You built a good stable life for yourself, and you were anything but content with it! The gun fits snugly into your palm, as it had just hours before when you tried to defend yourself. The reason you came out here was to go down in a fight against them, but unfortunately you see nothing but blurry trees as it keeps raining. You could have sworn they retreated into the woods, but now you find you’re questioning your own memory. That’s been happening more and more lately. Lightning flashes again. You breathe in another lungful, wishing the smoke would just choke you and be done with it.

Some idiot on the radio starts to introduce the next song. It’s called Lightning in a Bottle. You are just about to change the station, but the irony of the title stops you. It starts playing, and of course it’s some gimmicky indie folk garbage, but it gets you thinking. Your whole life you’ve been trying to make things work. Trying to control the situation despite bad circumstances or being dealt a shitty hand. Many years ago, before you lost touch with the larger world around you, mom had said something that had stayed with you your whole life. She said you were destined for greatness. She could simply feel it and there was no question about it, you were going to do something incredibly special and important with your life. You were supposed to be someone worth being. But here it feels like you have lost the only people you ever helped. No one has ever benefited from your presence in any meaningful way, and it looks like no one ever would. A single tear falls onto the steering wheel as the song continues in the background. It is followed by a river rivalling the downpour outside. You’ve been holding back for an exceptionally long time, and since your loss you have been unable to grieve. You just had to take it in stride, the same way the uncaring universe has taken everything from you for as long as you can remember. Mom died only 6 years ago. Good thing she passed while she still had faith in her dreams for you. You had taken everything from her, you stole her youth, her financial stability, and you drove her apart from your father. Despite her claims to the contrary, you had always known the truth. You blink rapidly but it does nothing to stop your cries. Your body spasms. The song starts to shift and change.

Buzzzing. A persistent and grating buzzing cuts through the sound of acid rain splattering and sizzling on the roof and hood. You attempt to compose yourself but find it impossible. They finally decided to show up. This is where they will kill you. This is where everything will fall apart for good. Their formless bodies will smother you and their mouths and hands will tear flesh from bone and atom from atom.

The world around you starts to spin, slowly at first but picking up speed. The stupid song on the radio seems to distort and the lyrics get weirdly specific. Then the wind outside calms and the spinning stops as you focus and inhale again. Toss the cigarette out the window. Watch its light go out. Feel the world slow down as you steel yourself for a fight. Hands tighten on your weapon, finger on the trigger. These are your hands. This is your last moment, your final stand. Most people aren’t given notice before they die. You’re one of the lucky few who can pinpoint the exact moment. Your perspective changes so much when you’re facing the unknown. The ultimate change. You realize they aren’t going to get you. You realize you always knew it. You realize you won’t let them have the satisfaction. You realize this is what you wanted anyway. You open the door and step out as the music fades into the background, turning robotic and alien. When will that damn song end? Was the world just an illusion? Why are you still stalling? What are you waiting for?

You look around as an incredible wave of peace washes over you. It’s difficult to believe just how calm you are as you squint at the tree line searching for signs of movement. You see nothing as you raise your hands. A flash of light blinds you and the song is finally gone, replaced by nothing. You fall to the ground, leaves and dirt scattering from your impact. Your ears are ringing. Your eyes open and you realize you are lying on your side. Blood is pouring like thoughts out from you. The gun you dropped is too far to reach now and wave after wave of pain starts to radiate from your head, buzzzing out throughout your entire body. You feel something sharp in the small of your back. Why are you still alive? What is this torture they devised for you? Why didn’t your weapon strike true, the way it had struck your only child when you thought she was one of them. Why did it now fail you and leave you unable to move or think as the world fades in and out with each halting breath you take? The pain in your back has gone numb. Not that it matters… Your bullet wound in your skull is enough to give you more screaming nerves than you had ever encountered in your life. You scream and try to get up, only to move a couple inches and fall to your back, looking up at the sky as the rain pours down. You scream again as the acid rain stabs your eyes and blinds you. Colors mix and change and distort like a watercolor painting as you try to scream again. But this time nothing comes out. You close your eyes. The rain eats through your eyelids and gets in anyway. Not even the tears are keeping the rain out. Your skin burns. This is how you will die, alone and unwanted, unable to even take your own life. Then you reach behind yourself and claw at the numbness in your back, pulling a small knife out. Where the hell did this come from? This blessed rusty knife with a red hilt is the kindest thing you have. You hold it above your heaving chest and plunge it downwards. You feel resistance give way and you feel a mild foreign presence enter your skin. But it doesn’t really hurt as all your pain is falling away. You almost feel like you’re watching yourself as you lift the knife out, slide it to a new point in your chest, and bring it up and down again. Again. Again. Now your hands move to your belly and you try again, but this time your arms are too weak. You have a sense of strange tunnel vision, and you see pale glowing eyes surround you. But you don’t care. You got to yourself before they did. A sudden burst of flame and light strikes down, burns away the eyes, and sets you free.

At least, that’s what you saw at the end. Who knows how real any of it was? You’re floating now. Watching it all play out. Alone. You used to fear dying alone, but now you realize you only ever feared the not knowing. This isn’t so bad. This isn’t so bad. This was never all that bad.

song i wrote based on this story. thx for reading!!

[miragrimmwrites]

“Lost in a nightmare” | About internal struggle | Audiobook

Title: Margo-Rita 

Extra: “NIGHTMARE” (All chapters)

 Description: This video contains all the chapters of the additional part of the story Margo-Rita, specifically the story of her struggle and awakening from the nightmare. For many years, the girl adapted to circumstances and people, and it changed her, making her a completely different person. But the one she was in childhood, when there was at least one person who understood her, is still alive inside her. The girl faced a difficult journey through the depths of her own consciousness in order to be reborn anew and to be her true self, with all her vices and virtues.

[dwellerofthedark]

HALLOWEEN CELEBRATION DAY 21: 'At the Mountains of Madness' by H.P. Love...

[black-metal-artists]

pre-order CD/digital /pre-save here https://music.blacklion.nu/Codexmortis digital here https://orcd.co/tales-of-woe

Tales Of Woe tells about an evil spirit that tortures a man through demonic possession and mind control. With horrific visions of its previous victims, the evil spirit tries to turn the man into a murderer. The man escapes its hold by taking his own life, as a desperate attempt to end the circle of terror…

Track list

Forsaken

Capricious Disembodied Villain

Chosen

Trenched in Blood

Fire Screams and Death

It Dies with Me

Line up Vocals by Dirk Willems Lyrics by Jos Schilder Drums by Michiel van der Plicht Guitars by Arjan van Dune Bass by Mathieu Westerveld

more details + cover artwork attached!

links: pre-order /pre-save here:     https://orcd.co/tales-of-woe

Bandcamp: codexmortis.bandcamp.com

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@CodexMortis

Spotify Artist page: codex mortis

Contact and booking: codexmortismetal@gmail.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/codexmortismetal

[itsmedevroland]

NEW VIDEO OUT: https://youtu.be/UU5i57n3Ua4 #gaming #gameplay #roblox #robloxtrend #robloxgaming #robloxgames #funnymemes #roblox #funnyvideo #robloxgames #masterkairobot #robloxhorror #horrorstory #robloxtycoon #robloxhorrorgames

[adriheavymetal]

#Repost @_steffi_licious 😏👍 A very good hobby! 🍿 #horror #horrormovies #horrorgirl #horrorfan #horrorjunkie #instahorror #horror memes #horror addict #the shining #lovehorror #horrorfans #horrorstory #horrorlife #horrorfanatic #horrorclub #horrorobsessed #horrorpage #horrorcommunity #horrorfreak #horrornights #horrormovies ##horrorclassic #horrormemes #horrorart #memes #dailymemes #horrormemes #80shorror#halloween #halloweeneveryday 🦇🕷️ #halloweenmemes 🎃 https://www.instagram.com/p/CprM74PMbiw/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=