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Hallow’s eve

Posted by BellaBenedicta

I was alone inside a small cabin with nothing but just a computer where I can interact with. I don't know when and I don't know how I got into my seat, staring at the screen with countless faceless figures. I haven't eaten, drunk, slept, exercised, gone to the bathroom, felt sick and died forever, all I can do is socialize with one of them. Even if everyone, including my friends, bullied me, scolded me and dissed me for my toxic behavior, I feel a dozen knives stabbing me from behind where the poisoned tip blades consumed me with depression and anxiety yet I'm still alive, but the tilted cabin and the computer wouldn't let me leave. Until I hear a knock from behind me. The light from the screen illuminated a wooden door that slowly opened. Standing outside is a beautiful girl who's dress is made purely from plants and flowers that somehow grow, and her insect-like wings glitter from the light above the outside beyond the ancient and remote forest. Standing next to her is a wolf with a saddle pack, perhaps filled with a supply of food and water. With a warm smile, the girl reached out, and said. "You don't have to continue." The figures in the computer begged me to not leave, and they needed me. They even taunt me as they call me a coward or a fraud for attempting to leave, promising me to give me everything I want, and threaten me to spread all the misinformation about me if I do. But whenever I hear something up in the attic ever since I stay put, I notice something why the computer didn't want me to leave. Whatever is in the attic is something the figures are afraid of. I believe something in the attic wouldn't come out when I stay. I made my decision. Pushing myself from my wheelchair against the tilted cabin, I stand up with all the knives in my back, and approach the front door. Even if the computer reaches out to me without noticing, I hope something in the attic would come out. They will get their fear, and I will get my freedom if I close the door behind me and meet the fairy outside.

The Fairy Outside

Posted by Universe_Andromeda

[CONTAINS SENSITIVE CONTENT! DO NOT READ IF TRIGGERED BY DEATH, SUFFERING, BLOOD, MURDER!!!!] I. (Written May 31, 2024, just back posting to make my profile less empty :3) II. For better quality/backstory/info, please visit my site <a href="https://www.deviantart.com/lanalightspeed">https://www.deviantart.com/lanalightspeed</a> III. Writing commissions and requests are open! Dm me on my main site or my insta; <a href="https://www.instagram.com/lanalightspeed/">https://www.instagram.com/lanalightspeed/</a><span style="font-size: 9.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Calibri','sans-serif'; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA;">      <span style="font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Calibri','sans-serif'; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA;">I was ripped from my dreamless sleep to enter into a nightmare. The mangled, desperate scream clawed its way through the grate on the front of my padded door- bouncing off the white walls, contorting its way into my mind and body, playing a twisted solo in the harmony of suffering. The high pitched scraping noise and the chilling crunches forced their way through the floorboards and walls, infiltrating cells and preying on prisoners. Time warped as nothing seemed real anymore. The scream muffled and subsided. I shut my eyes, the sound still echoing through my mind. I was not entirely sure how long it has stopped, nor of what I could and could not hear. I wasn’t supposed to be in here anyway- I wasn’t insane. But suddenly I felt like I belonged in this place. I felt crazy. Unhinged. Deranged. The heavy sound of silence weighed down on me as I brought myself slowly to my feet and inched my way toward my cell door. My knees, weak with fear and a cold stiffness, buckled under me- sending me plummeting back to the padded floor. I clutched my abdomen as nausea flew up through my stomach, my dinner threatening to make an appearance. It was quiet at first; the sickening crunches and whispers; more hallucinations from the repulsive silence? Something was coming closer. A man’s fragmented cries; distorted and childlike, echoed through the asylum’s walls. A low, deliberate ripping sounded right outside my cell door. I struggled against my straightjacket to free my arms. The constricting feeling made it hard to breathe as the panic and fear flooded my body. I rolled to the side and pressed the side of my head to the soft floor to try to drown out the noise. I couldn’t tell which noises were in my head, and which were real. Make it stop! I began to lose all concept of time and the seconds felt like hours. Slowly, I shifted my position on the floor and allowed myself to breathe. My muscles burned with cramps and stiffness, like an engine roaring to life after sitting out on a harsh winter night. Pain flared through my numb arms and legs as the blood slowly made its way around my body once again. A cold draft danced across my face, forcing my eyes open. I was brought face to face with something that words couldn’t describe. Pure terror manipulated my body, paralysing, forcing me to choke on the scream that was never able to leave my mouth. It looked like it was once human, but judging by the state of it; maybe never had been. The head was twisted unnaturally to the side and its cheekbones were exposed by the thin, peeling flesh and deep slices across its face. The sunken eye sockets were empty and the nose was non-existent, leaving the two holes for the nostrils open, and leaking blood. Dangling by shreds of muscle and skin was the jaw, ripped from the head. Blood and flesh painted the front of the cell where the creature had broken through the door. What used to be arms were now horrible twisted messes. The limbs were broken in most places, bent and cracked in horrific ways. The joints were all bent backwards, allowing the creature to have a four-legged stance over me. Thin, patchy clumps of oily black hair sparked a memory, bringing it back from the depths of the once-forgotten. Suddenly I was back in the ghost-quiet hallway in Deadwood jail. The limp, cadaveric figure was propped up against the wall, his long legs adventuring out into the corridor along the cold tiled floor. He twitched and strained uncontrollably like he was struggling to get away from something slowly bearing down on him. The man’s mouth mumbled something, but no words came out. I slowly edged closer- instincts screaming to run. I had heard things about this inmate... strange, terrifying things... He was at the end of a domino of horrific deaths. There had been too many to count, each one all the same. Prior to the next death in the never-ending chain; the to-be victim had changed in a certain way; lost all concepts of time and their grasp on reality… Began to see what wasn’t there; before they had wound up dead in terrible ways. Their body mutilated beyond recognition. Each person who had fallen victim to the invisible killer repeated the same words, as if passing on the curse. Should I call a guard? The feeling nagged at me. Something wasn’t right. I tugged on the sleeves of my orange prison jumpsuit and dread hung in the air, clinging to my clothes. “Hey, are you-..“ An invisible silence cut me off; the figure stopped twitching and his head snapped rigidly to the side to look at me- gluing me to the floor with crippling fear. His oily hair framed his face. “You’ve got the wrong person! It’s not me! Don’t kill me! You’ve got the wrong person! It wasn’t me! Don’t kill me!” His screaming was detached and distorted, like it wasn’t entirely directed at me, yet there was no one else here. I was a ghost- he looked right through me. Something changed in me that day. I called the guards and watched the writhing man get taken away; an agony possessing his body as if being teared apart inside. The look in his eyes, as they locked onto mine, had me paralysed. I felt haunted. Suddenly, I was considered unpredictable and dangerous. Dangerous enough to have me moved and locked up in this hellish clinical penitentiary. Fractured from the world where I knew I should be. How did I go from petty burglary and a 14 year sentence to what felt like a lifetime in hell. Another cold draft ripped me back to the present. The detached jaw dangled and swayed as the creature turned its head a full 180 degrees around, and sharp dagger-like teeth protruded from the top jaw. I know that part of me knew, deep down, what was going to happen the day I found that man; I was the next one in the chain. “You’ll pay for what you did to me...” A detached, voice growled. It’s voice laden with abhorrecy. Fear squeezed its cold, ruthless hands around my throat, choking me. “I’ll kill you for what you did.” It shrieked as the creature brought its teeth slowly down towards my neck. “Y-You’ve got the wrong person,” I wailed, trying to put space between me and this creature, “It wasn’t me! Don’t kill me!” I felt the fiery pain of the tip of the teeth pushing into my neck, blood spurting from the wound, “Don’t kill-….”

Chain reaction

Posted by Lanalightspeed

[I’m sorry for the ending in advance- I listened to rock when I wrote it and got carried away. ;-;] [CONTAINS SENSITIVE CONTENT! DO NOT READ IF TRIGGERED BY DEATH, SUFFERING, BLOOD, MURDER!!!!] I. (Written May 9, 2024, just back posting to make my profile less empty :3) II. For better quality/backstory/info, please visit my site <a href="https://www.deviantart.com/lanalightspeed">https://www.deviantart.com/lanalightspeed</a> III. Writing commissions and requests are open! Dm me on my main site or my insta; https://www.instagram.com/lanalightspeed/ The hand that I had clutched at my abdomen is stained bright crimson. I’m not sure what else I hoped for. Deep down, it’s probably what I expected. I blink, trying to clear my blurring vision- each time trying harder and harder to will the blood to be a corrupted figment of my imagination. The sickening pain in my stomach tells me that it’s not. I sit back, looking at the sky. You can’t see the stars because of the city lights, but I would have given so much just to see them one more time. I push myself to all fours, trying to find the willpower to stand. A wave of nausea- worse than the last, washes over me and I crouch into a ball, postponing any thoughts of trying to continue until the feeling subsides. Everything hurts… I’m so tired... There’s a price to pay for national secrets, one too hefty for a single mere person to pay. The rabbit can’t outsmart the fox… Even if I thought I could. I feel it seep through my fingers: warm, sticky blood.  I’m so tired, but I’m not scared. I’m almost comforted by the thought of what awaits me. Better than anything they could dream up as a punishment for what I’ve done. I feel it trickle out from under my hand. I’m losing blood faster than I’m losing hope. I’m suddenly gripped by a violent coughing fit that paints the dirty highway shoulder below my hands a metallic scarlet. Pain tears through my side and I pull tighter into my ball clutching my empty stomach as it threatens to turn itself inside out again. The wind from a passing car in the far lane of the highway blows dust up into my eyes, sending empty plastic bottles and discarded papers flying in its wake. My heart stops for a moment as I try to assess the car with doubling, uncooperative vision. It’s not the black tinted SUVs driven by the government- but you can never be too careful. Not now, not these days. The car races away as quickly as it appeared, the taillights disappearing into the blurry mess of lights from the iridescently glowing city outskirts. I hear the mournful wail of a siren, quickly drowned out by the clacking of a passenger train passing on the bridge overhead. I feel the vibrations through the highway. I could have been on that train. Two more cars emerge from the tunnel in front of me. With each one’s coming and going I freeze; unable to move, unable to breathe. All I can do is watch helplessly and pray they don’t skid to a stop and blow my brains all over the litter strewn concrete. No, actually, they wouldn’t do that. They’re too cruel to offer me the mercy of death. They would string me up, carve their lies into my mind and leave me in agony while they destroy everything that I’ve worked for, everything that I’ve suffered for. Another coughing fit racks my body, leaving me exhausted and only able to take shaky breaths between muffled cries of pain. I can feel it, in my jacket pocket; the heavy metal box that pushes roughly into my side. I push myself up, clinging to the concrete barrier that acts as a bridge railing for the normally busy highway. Crimson and ash smear on the dull grey blocks as I try to guide myself toward the tunnel, using the barrier as my crutch. One hand, one step at a time; I’m shuffling toward the shadow of the tunnel. I feel like a sink with the plug pulled as more warm fluid flows from the bullet wound in my side, weakening me with my every step. I’m okay… just, so tired… I manage slowly into the shadow of the tunnel before dropping to my knees like a puppet with the strings cut. So close… So very tired… I feel the weight of the contents and despite all odds, I find myself chuckling before another set of deadly coughs double me over. I’m going to be okay… I just need to get a little further… I pull out the box and weigh it in my hand. The glossy silver sides, now smeared with blood and grit, reflect a fragment of a person I once was. Not that I recognise that person anyway; the one with his photo plastered on LED advertisement boards on every building in the city. There’s no going back.  I’m left to stare at my worse than dishevelled appearance; blood running from multiple cuts on my face. My jet black hair, wet and stricken with blood and sweat is stuck to my dry and peeling face. Was it all worth it? In the end, did I even stand a chance? If I fail, all I leave is broken hopes of a world that could have been different. My thoughts stray to the fragments of dreams I once had, fuelling me to bring myself, once more, to my feet. I’ll do it for them; I’ll keep going for them. I stow the box, that caused all this pain, safely back in my pocket and inch forward alongside the concrete barrier.  I feel so exposed, so alone. Like an addict reaching for his pills with shaking hands, I reluctantly draw from my pocket; my mobile device. I’m naively wishing for a message, a missed call. The isolation of rebellion is slowly eating away at me. Pressing the button I have a thousand times; the little screen flashes to life. Someone help me… As I attempt to navigate the little menu, my vision doubles and another wave of nausea hits me. Anyone… Please…  I’m crouching over again, clinging desperately to the concrete slab as my stomach forces a full body wretch sending white hot paint up through my ribs. A mangled cry of pain escapes my cracked and bloodstained lips and I fall forward, hanging to the concrete barrier like a lifeline. If I hit the ground, I don’t think I’ll be able to get up again. So tired… I hear the screeching of tires, belonging to a car I didn’t even realised passed through the tunnel, from behind me. I wait for the rough hands to grab me by the hair and manhandle me like a rag doll into the back of the cold and clinical cars. Wait for the all too familiar jabbing of the barrel and the flick the safety switch being turned off… But… they don’t… The voice who I hear calling my name sends tears, I didn’t know I had left, flowing down my cheeks, carving paths in the crusted blood. Washing away the ache from grieving the life I lost, with the people I loved. Instead of scalp wrenching force, I get gentle hands, gliding along my back to settle under my arm. I feel the warmth of her next to me, lifting my up like my crutch. The only words I can let out are drowned out from a body racking sob. All strength fails me, but determinedly she holds me up. “When you didn’t check in…” She tries to start but I can hear the pain in her voice and she chokes on her words. We hobble in silence. It happened so fast. It’s almost ironic that time seemed to slow down. The small army of the government’s SUVs screeching to a halt on the freeway and the blinding flash of the escape van being blown into raining shards of flaming metal. The brief weightlessness of being lifted off my feet. I might have lost consciousness for a second, because it seems all too soon that I’m being forced to my knees, my hair ripped back to lift my head. Steady hands hold me fast. It’s not like I had the energy to struggle anyway. I hang limp in their grasp. The silhouette of a man in all black approaches me; flame and smoke outline him like a hero walking away from a battle scene. Ironic- isn’t it? Lexi has the energy to struggle, and I can see her fighting the men who force her onto her knees, cuffing and gagging her. Maybe I’m too tired to think straight, but it seems pointless. They’ve already let me slip through their fingers once- it won’t happen again. The man, from his pocket, takes out a pair of gloves like a butcher preparing to gut an animal. “Doctor Jack Halsey…” He muses, circling me like a vulture. I’m so tired… too tired to feel anymore. Just let me-... Let me go… I stare, with hazy eyes, into burning wreckage of the escape van. “Seven border crossings, four different identities… and yet you still can’t escape us.” He comes around again, crouching down to take my chin roughly in his hand. He lifts my head violently, staring into my face; studying me. He’s looking for fear, or hate- but I won’t give him anything. For a moment, it seems if we’re hung in the balance. All time stops and for a moment, behind his eyes filled with pride and bitter resent, I can almost see-… “But you never could anyway. We’ve been watching you, tracking you. There wasn’t a hope in hell for you.” He shoves my head away, straightening up with a light chuckle, but it’s forced; I can tell. The way he turns away as soon as he’s upright, the sudden alertness he has for his surroundings. He’s scared. Of me; maybe- but I know for certain it’s of what I’ve done. What I’ve started. “It’s all a game, Ned.” I manage with all the confidence and strength my failing body can muster. “You got me… But you don’t win. You never win. They’ll always win. It’s their game, we’re just playing it.” The man only laughs, “You’re just trying to buy time… But for what- I can’t imagine. You don’t think we don’t know about the rest of your plan?” The shock that washes over my body like a tidal wave doesn’t show on my face. Impossible- how could they have known? Lexi however fights back with furious screams and insults, all muffled by her gag, while I hang limp in a stage of complete and utter horror. “So!” He concludes triumphantly, clapping his hands together. “With nowhere to go, no one to help you; you might as well give up now. So I’ll only ask once; where is it.” I choose to remain silent as I continue to stare into the flames. “Mm… Uncooperative are we?” He muses in a pitying tone. “Well, that’s too bad. Search him.” The order was issued with a snap of the fingers and rough hands are instantly slapping my sides, feeling for anything that might resemble- The box is drawn out from my pocket and I’m released to flop, exhausted and defeated to my side. True agony sends another wave of nausea through my body and blood trickles over my barely parted lips. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? It’s almost like-….” The irritatingly smug voice cuts off and the heavy metal box is hurled at my broken body. The contents; a single piece of paper, flutter down in front of my face. Scrawled across the yellowing and stained scrap was two words; Screw. You. “You think this is a game?” He snaps forcefully, ignoring my groans from my newly acquired bruise to add to my collection. The flames are hazy and I can feel the blood that has drained from my body soak into the fabric on my thighs. I can’t keep this up, I’m just so tired… My hair is grabbed, pulling my limp body back to its knees. I hardly feel the crisp slap that’s forces my head to lull to the side. “Well, perhaps we have to be more persuasive.” He whispers, voice slick with deadly venom. He’s desperate. I knew for certain as I lifted my head to look at the government officer standing over Lexi, that nothing else could have given me more willpower to fight back at the crushing hands holding me. Her name formed in my throat but another violent coughing fit crushed any attempt of calling out to her. The officers holding her pull her head back, sliding off the gag that protected them from the now audible threats and curses. I hear the click of a gun with the safety being flicked off. “It doesn’t have to be like this. Just tell me where the real box is; and we’ll let her go. We’ll let you both go.” More lies, more deadly toxicity, more desperate to succeed.   “Don’t do it, Jack.” She hisses threateningly. She knows where this will get her, but it’s for a cause; the cause. We have to make some sacrifices. I feel a tear, that I didn’t know had been welling up in my eye, drop down onto my cheek. I feel Lexi’s eyes on me, gluing my mouth shut. She’d probably strangle me to prevent my saying anything. Not that I would anyway. Saying anything won’t save her. Nothing will. The government officer grits his teeth and puts his gun back in its holster. “Perhaps I’ve been a little too lenient.” With a flick of his hand, Lexi is dragged over- kicking and screaming, to the end of the shell of our burning van. I watch with hazy eyes. I feel like a prisoner inside my own body. I can’t move- I can’t speak… I’m just- so tired… “Last chance.” He warns in a dangerously quiet tone. I want to scream; to yell out, to say anything. But yet, I’m as still and silent as the box that lies broken and ruined. Its contents spilled. He looks for the real box, but little does he know- the box he has deemed as fake, still holds what he is looking for. The cleverly designed compartment inside conceals the very thing that so many have lost their lives for. Except- I’m not like the box. I couldn’t hold my own when they turned my upside town and took away everything. I didn’t fulfil my purpose. I failed. The government officer shrugs and with a flick of his hand, Lexi is thrown into the burning van. Then the screaming starts- mangled, desperate screams. I see her fight to get up but she’s engulfed in flames. My vision hazes again and her pleading cries for help play through my mind like a twisted melody. Lexi looks like a candle, only one that melts flesh and blood. I watch her collapse in bursts of agonising spams. Her perfect skin peeling from her face in furious blisters, eyes wide with fear. Inside my head I’m a mournful desperate mess. Tears flow from my unresponsive and lifeless body as slowly the weight of exhaustion pulls of my eyelids. I’m just so tired… Lexi…

Blood and Boxes

Posted by Lanalightspeed

The Plateau

Posted by Universe_Andromeda

Book (4)

Creepypasta Stories

Posted by DartHaddockStudios

Get ready

Posted by BellaBenedicta

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