Burn Them Before They Rise

I can’t emphasize the seriousness of this post. No one believes a word that I have to say, but dammit I hope that whoever is reading this right now will. I don’t have much time left to explain.

Has anyone been watching or reading the news??? Well I have news for you: it’s nothing like how everyone has been saying it is. It’s worse. Far, far worse, but in a different way. You see, this is no ‘normal’ by the book pandemic. What pandemic is normal? It’s not, but what I mean is, it’s not a typical disease where people get sick and die…

This is the part where people start to think I’m crazy or that I have serious mental health issues… I don’t. They don’t stay dead! They won’t fucking stay dead.

I used to be a nurse technician in a hospital which was in a very small town, about a couple hours or so away from Los Angeles, California. I can’t disclose any information for the sake of confidentiality and time. When Flu season started, it really wasn’t all that serious at first. But then the cases started to increase, by handfuls, then it turned into dozens. Our hospital only can handle so much so local counties had to volunteer to help. The thing is, when we ran our normal tests like for blood, urine, swab, etc, it didn’t come up as the flu. Not even the strep, common cold, meningitis, sinus infection, or any typical infections during this time of year. It wasn’t the flu anymore… it was something else. People were dying left and right. Yes, some did recover, but not enough of them to say that any true progress was made. It’s more of a 90% fatality rate. If caught early, 75%. Although, that’s rare, more along the lines of 10-15% rare. Most medications, pain relievers, anti inflammatory medications, fever reducers, antibiotics, antivirals, you name it, they really don’t work. Nothing… works…

When they die, each and every one of them emit this really putrid smell of death, rotten flesh, and decay. You can smell it within an hour of them dying. It makes no sense… necrosis kicks in so quickly, too quickly. If they aren’t bagged up and buried ASAP, they will attack with homicidal aggression. They have inhuman strength! It’s not just that… they leak and blood and liquid blackness from the pores of their skins. They grow and twist and contort and it’s just my god…

The first person that they attacked was my mom who was a doctor working with me at the time. Limbs were torn, hair was pulled, eyes gone, head smashed, everything that was my mom was turned into a pile of muscle and bone. I tried to fight the thing by throwing a vase at its head, but it didn’t work. I quit over the phone the next day. I have overheard from other coworkers that they were able to take down that one patient, but that wasn’t the first incident in that hospital. That body was dead for an hour and a half tops. I watched the news for a few days and they showed a map of the globe of the affected areas. I was in absolute disbelief.

My Dad passed away many years ago and the only one I have is my fiancé is on a business trip in another state. The town is completely shut down because of what has happened to the hospital, but I have decided that there is nothing left here for me and it is not safe. Shit! The banging on my doors and windows has been absolutely nonstop!

The hospitals are almost completely overrun and those things are everywhere. There’s no time to hold a funeral or wake for someone unless if they have died from something other than this damned disease, which is rare these days. Burn them before they rise, or else you will be their next meal. Oh my god! Theykbryjkga;?7

(All content in this story is fictional. Artwork rights of image belong to original owner.)

Please, Don’t Try This Profession

Please don’t try this…. ever.

You won’t come back in one piece, or ever.

How I know is because I am a witness.

I have witnessed ‘The Quiet Ritual’ by the CLA (Celebration of Life) done multiple times.

It is for people who are either terminally ill or for those no longer wish to be on this earth.

We celebrate life one more time and at the end of the celebration, the person who is ready to go, goes in their own way.

However, the one who holds the ceremony has to either be a higher authoritative figure in law or religion.

I’m a priest in a Catholic Church.

I’m a relatively young man with no life and all I have wanted to do is make people happy.

I have given so many elders a celebration on their last day of life on earth which has made them and their families happy.

I know this may sound great and all, but here’s the catch to this private service: I also did mention it is for those who no longer wish to be on this earth.

This could be for people who aren’t elderly or sick per say, but for people who are tapping out.

This is the only organization in the world that will allow something like this.

I was very reluctant to do this, but I signed a contract for 5 years and I couldn’t back out of it.

I was offered great pay and I couldn’t go anywhere else work wise.

After the first person I helped tapped out, that’s when I heard the voices.

They told me that every time I had to do a ritual, I had to take a small piece of myself off of my body.

I was overwhelmed with dreams, visions, shadows, and the b-b-bugs… the fucking bugs.

They crawled over me during my sleep.

Thousands of flies and maggots.

Each day, each ritual, each death, each patch of skin…

Patch of skin… patch of skin… patch of skin…

(Image art credit to original owner)

Positivity and Funnies: Howl-O-ween funnehs

It might be only September, but does that really matter? Hell no! Halloween, aka spooky season is here! Decor, movies, candy galore? It’s never too early to get excited for Halloween, it’s also never too early nor too late for the funnies! Here we go!

“I don’t like horror movies.”

…. awkward *eye twitches*

I freaking hate it when this happens! That’s why you should never wash your mask Jason!

It’s never too early for Halloween dammit!!!

This sounds like a fun project for the whole family! (Your neighbors will love you and appreciate you for this)! 😁

This is what horror villains do for fun! 😂

Oh my gosh they are just so VERY “friendly”! Uh… Hm…

Here’s the truth about vampires and why they’re not fun to be with: they all suck!

Hey, it’s what I do! It really does work! 👍

If it makes you happy and it doesn’t hurt anyone, then why not? (Unless if you enjoy killing people like Jason Vorhees or Michael Myers… *gulp*).

The definition of Creepypasta can have emphasis and class, right?

Have a nice night everyone!

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Shallow Wrist Doctor

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Thank Christ you have come for me.

Insert the decadent nectar into my skin.

I can’t live within my whole shell, I’m not clean.

I cannot return to my kin.

Forgive me dear doctor for I have committed the worst blessings with no sins.

I’m not sick enough for my dearest master.

Rip open my splintered bones, splice my cells, sync my neurons, split my tissue.

Give me more, give me more, give me more!!!

I need it, I feel it, I crave it, you love it.

They stare at me as I sleep, its hurts so good.

Your hands on my head arouse me so much.

Press harder on my skull please.

Harder… harder… harder…

I can’t die.

I CAN’T DIE!!!!

Those Ancient Hills (Pet Semetary Fanfic)- That dog is supposed to be dead (Part 1)

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I’m starting to wonder if this is something more than a doctor could fix. Again I go to the doctor, again I get the same results, with the exception of having the flu and a severe sinus infection. I’ve seen all kinds of doctors and specialists since I first started school. Call me impatient, but it seems like nothing is getting better with my mental health. I’ve seen multiple therapists, two psychiatrists, a school counselor, a neurologist, a general practitioner, a social worker, you name it! I’ve had test after test after test done and they all come out normal. Blood tests, Urine tests, stress tests, MRIs, Pet Scans, CT Scans, several assessments made by EVERY medical professional I have seen and everything comes back normal. My medications have been switched around 4 times already, and nothing works permanently. I’m starting to wonder if anyone believes me anymore. This can’t be…

I need to be completely open about something. Mental Health awareness has always been something that I have been wanting to support since I was in high school, so I want to share something personal about myself. Maybe those who are struggling might find some comfort in this.

My family and I have been through a lot of trauma in the past. We’ve lost relatives ranging from cancer, car crashes, or suicide. It always seemed to hit either my cousins or aunts and uncles. We’ve also been robbed twice while being at home and almost lost our house to a fire caused by some shotty wiring in our old laundry room. But the truth is, there is one thing that happened in my life that has scarred me for the rest of my days. I never really mentioned this before, but the truth is I had an older sister. Her name was Lydia, but we called her Lily. She died almost 10 years ago. I lost my older sister due to self harm. She was 14 and I was only 10 at the time when it happened. We were in the living room one day, watching TV and she randomly stands up, stares off into space, then heads into the kitchen. I followed her because something within me told me to. She went straight to the knife set, filled her hands with all kinds of knives, and started to cut and scratch at her skin. I remember that she screamed at the voices who told her to ‘scratch her skin off’ with the knives. I ran in there and fought to pull the knives out of her hands. She stabbed me and tried to stab my parents as we tried to stop her. She pushed all of us away and then began to skin the knives into her skull so she could rip her skin, hair, and ears off. After struggling for a few moments, my sister dropped all of the knives except for one. She looked at me and said,”This is for you, brother. I am sorry” and she proceeded to stab herself once in the gut and once in the heart. She collapsed to the floor and a large pool of blood enveloped the kitchen floor. I covered up her wounds the best I could while my mom tried to keep her with us. My dad was on the phone with 911… as soon as they arrived, it was too late.

Truth be told, Lydia was very very sick. What happened was not her fault. For years I thought that it was my fault that she died, but my parents and many others convinced me otherwise. She was diagnosed with a rare form of Schizophrenia that only a select handful of the human population has at the age of 6. It develops at a very young age and only gets worse as you get older. My parents had another baby girl a few years after my sister passed away. I could never understand why they decided to have another child after that. I felt like they just did it so they could fill that void that my older sister left behind. I was diagnosed with Bipolar II and PTSD at the age of 11. Supposedly I was ‘acting out’ in school, ‘not acting like myself’, and had been changing for the worse, according to my parents. My parents were afraid that I was developing the same illness that claimed my sister, but thankfully I was spared. I felt as though I was treated differently from everyone else, thanks to rumors being spread about my sister’s death. Regardless of what happened, Dani and Jeff have always stuck by my side.

With that being said, did I somehow empathically ‘inherit’ my sister’s illness after she died? Was I truly truly sick? Or maybe I’m really not sick and something very wrong is going on here. Maybe the Pet Sematary is a real place. Maybe that Pascow guy really does exist. Maybe Dani and Jeff did something they really shouldn’t have. Maybe the Creed family murders are true. Maybe there is such things as this cursed place that brings the dead to life beyond its main circle. God only knows, because I don’t. I decided that the first thing I was going to do after seeing the doctor was grab my laptop and head on over to the Public Library instead of the school’s library. I believe the Public Library will have more information on these legends than the school library would.

After my doctor’s visit, I open the door to find a pool of blood on the doormat. There was a trail of blood that led to the doorway of Jeff’s room. A pair of glowing red eyes stood in the room engulfed by darkness. I took a couple steps forward, weaving around the blood and saw a gruesome sight. It was Jack… but at the same time it wasn’t Jack. The dog took a few steps forward and he looked just as he did when he died, but worse… much worse. His fur was matted with mud and this awful smelling sludge water. His eyes were sunken in beyond the red. His stance was awkward and bent, almost like a V. I thought that the dog was going to attack me, but he didn’t. He just stood there and stared at me. It felt like eons had passed as we continued to stare at each other. I was stuck and I couldn’t move a single muscle in my body.

Christ almighty… thinking about this is making me feel sick… I can’t move a single muscle in my body. I have to keep this short for now. I feel as though I’m being watched. I’ll post more of what happened later on. Peace.

Intro | Previous Part ( Something Weird is Going On Here) |That Dog is Supposed to be Dead (Pt 2)

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(This is a fanfic series is based off of Stephen King’s original Pet Sematary as well as Pet Sematary 1 & 2 films.)

Deadliest Kiss

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Face down on the pavement, she thought she had nowhere to turn. Sitting in her own blood, slashed by the no life killer.

The killer she thought would forever be hers. Stabbed, slashed, lonely, and misused.

Tears rolled down her face as the rain washed away the blood. Am I alive or dead? the girl thought to herself. 

She could feel pain, but couldn’t speak out. She wanted to cry out, but the slashed part of  her throat took away that gift.

Tapping of leather shoes passed by the girl’s head. Fearing what others would think of her, she stayed down.

A gentle tap and a Hello? came from above her. Fearing what she looked like, she stayed down.

Are you alright my dear? I want to see your beautiful face. 

She lifted her face and saw a ghastly sight. A tall man with a skeletal face reached out for her hand. 

The man had passionate eyes, but skin of white tendons and black spaces in between. He had moderately long jet black hair and wore a black suit.

Despite his ghostly stature, she felt at home with the being and allowed him to lift her up off the cement. This is no place for a beautiful girl such as yourself.

I’m terribly sorry for what that horrid creature did to you. I will put an end to him!

Take my hand, said the ghostly figure. The girl grabbed the ghostly man’s hand and with that, they zipped into the darkness within the trees.

To be continued…

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Bloodied Rust

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Don’t chase after your nightmares; they might chase after you.

I chased the wrong kind of dreams, and now they’re chasing me. 

I can’t stop them; they’re inflicting irreversible pain unto me.

They have come for me and I know it.

Their claw marks burn and their bites make me ache.

I drown the dying screams with synthetic happiness. 

It’s stitched with fake love and patched with false hope.

The nightmare breeders tear the stitches apart and swallow the patches whole.

Tears can’t cleanse the bloodied rust from the walls. 

Don’t be like me.

Chase your dreams, not your nightmares.

Or else your nightmares will chase you.

Hope must exist somewhere.

Why?

Because I’m still living.

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