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)

The Story of the Bird Under the Shade

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The story of the bird under the shade goes something like this:

The bird under the shade exists for a reason, but the bird knows not that reason.

He stays underneath the tree where the cool shade resides. 

Safe from all harm, protected from the weather, a perfect spot for safety and comfort.

He kept the shade all to himself and rarely shared it with anyone else, fearing others would steal his shade. He never wanted to leave the shade for he feared that he would risk his own life. 

So he kept himself sheltered from anything that could ever go wrong.

When he welcomed other birds to accompany him in his shade, they would only stay for a short while. The ones who continued to be companions with the bird would often come and go.

The new birds who came into his life showed him there was more beyond this one tree. Warm sunlight, gentle breeze, sweet sights, enticing smells, new adventures. 

As intriguing and enticing all of it seemed… things did seem to get stale underneath the shade; nonetheless he wished to stay under the shade.

One bird came along who cared for the bird in the shade. Both birds cared for one another greatly and wanted to go do great things. The new bird tried to show him all of the great things beyond the tree he stayed under. 

But unfortunately, it didn’t matter if there was anything better out there for him and he pushed the bird who cared so much for him away. 

The bird who cared for the bird under the tree felt unhappy and knew it was time to go. He made it clear that he lived a life in fear, and couldn’t let it go.

The caring bird, heartbroken, flew off into the distance. She perched herself on a branch, brushed off her wings, and flew high into the sky, seeking new adventures and the happiness that follows.  

The bird under the shadow still remains under his tree. Regardless of if he moves to different trees or not is all up to him. Even if he does try to move beyond the tree, he will always stay under the shade he keeps with him. And with the shade, comes a lack of understanding the purpose that this bird holds within its feathers.

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Confession #5: Fear of Death Complex

23df25064d0585f9129d3b5a86d11f05 “Let me start off by saying that I do not fear PHYSICAL death; the flatline, the last breath, the last heartbeat, the last moment of life only to be ended so suddenly like the flame from a candle blown out. I must emphasize that I don’t fear dying as well. 

What impacts this is my own personal truths about the aspect of physical death. I must note that horror has never really made a difference with the fear of life or death in my eyes, surprisingly. I’ve never been one of religion, really. I am know my stuff when it comes to religion and belief systems, and I’m very open-minded. I’m spiritual and open minded, not religious. However, I will NOT do anything to shove my own beliefs into one’s throat just because it might differ from my own. That’s pure ignorance. Do I believe in God? Yes, I do. But I am also a believer of things such as Reincarnation, Awakening and Ascension, Angels and Ascended Masters, having a divine life purpose, Universal Consciousness, LOA (Law of Attraction), Karma, and lastly, everything happens for a reason. I also believe that there is malevolent energy out there… parasites, voids of energy that take on our own fears, and just plain negative energy. 

What I fear is the darkness the outward manifestations that surrounds the concept of death. Whether it be physical, emotional, psychological, or spiritual, there are some factors about it that scare me so. I cannot explain why, but sometimes the darkness from death manifests itself outwardly.

For example, there have been times in my life where I can smell this ungodly stench b5693754f9477e28acab5720b23b71a4--cousins-tattoo-ideaswhenever someone has passed away, be it a loved one or someone close. Sometimes it smells like moist, sticky, foul, rotting soil beneath the undergrowth of trees or greenery from above. I have never been to a cemetery, nor a funeral home, nor any place that has involved death. The times that I have smelled this foul odor is when I was about 8 years old and then again at the age of 13. As I’ve gotten older, when the time of death has come, the smell has only gotten worse. I’ve seen the smell manifest in ways unrelated to physical death, but more along the lines of death/ending of a chapter in my life be it an aspect of a relationship with someone. Thankfully it has been a while since I have picked up on the smell. The best way I can describe the smell now is death and decay, it’s indescribable. The good news is, the smell doesn’t come often. Lastly, I must add that I have smelled foul odors in locations where death is prominent (i.e. a place where someone has died in the past). 

Another thing I fear is the nightmares. I have PTSD and am prone to having nightmares from time to time, but sometimes other factors affects the nightmares such as death. I’ve had countless nightmares about death. They vary between myself, my parents, my brother, my grandparents, my dog Zuzu, and other people I hold dear in my life. It’s never subtle either. When I see death of others in my dreams often violent, gruesome, unforgiving, intense, and horrifying. And nightmares where I do not see people die, I’m given the imagery from what I can describe as an abstract version of death. 

Lastly, it’s the sickness that I see in others, or even just the concept of sickness makes me cringe. I watched my mom battle cancer for seven years. She’s had breast cancer twice, colon cancer, then lastly, lung cancer. She’s had chemo, radiation, and several surgeries over the past few years. I remember as a teenager I watched how ill she was, and I could feel death hanging around us. It was the worst feeling in the world; not being able to do a single thing about this. I always felt this heavy weight on my shoulders and my chest, back, legs, every fiber of my being felt pinned down by death’s presence. Besides my mom, I have seen many individuals struggle with cancer, addictions, and many other health conditions. (Not to worry, my mom is A-okay now! My mom has been tested this year and has been declared cancer free has a clean bill of health!!!)

In the end, I always strive for life, rebirth, and new beginnings, but I also honor and accept that there is a balance of life and death.

However, without a doubt there is nothing more horrifying that being stuck between your fears and the time flux of death and decay, regardless of its appearance.”

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I feel it too

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Yes… the ultimate trigger of fear does it alright…

There it is… right in front of you… a few inches from your face.

Ultimate evil.

Can you feel that cold, sweaty, clammy, uncontrollable buzz in your arms and legs that makes you feel the NEED to move?

Yes, you know what I’m talking about.

Millions of fibers sparking off in your body telling you to MOVE away from the evil being in front of your face.

That feeling that makes standing still hurt so so much!

Your limbs and insides feel like a bottle of soda shaken to its core ready to burst.

Do you feel shame for having to move? 

Do you feel shame for having to keep still?

Do you blame yourself for running?

Do you feel guilt for feeling that things are out of your control?

Do you feel guilt for being helpless?

Helpless like a fish out of water.

What is it that you feel?

Can you describe it with words? Feelings? Touch? Movement?

It is not your fault dear friend. 

I feel it too.

I feel it every single day.

You are not alone in this endless waltz of fear and insanity.

I am right by your side as we waltz on for an eternity.

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Outro thought: What doesn’t kill you make you stronger, right? What is it that you’re running from?

P.S. Hey, I’m now on Patreon and Paypal! Please feel free to connect with me if you wish! Any support that you can give will always be appreciated thank you!

If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, feel free to email me at ASnowpasta@gmail.com

Dream Journal- The Black Eyes Are Ripping me Apart

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The other night I had a nightmare that left me drenched in a cold sweat, hyperventilating. It was extremely intense and graphic for a mostly non-lucid dream. This is an actual nightmare I had that is still hanging around in my head. Its driving me absolutely insane and I hope writing it down will help me process it.

I was at work walking back and forth past the front doors while I was on my break. I came back from the bathroom when one of my co-workers pointed out that the tail-lights and something else was out on my car. They told me they thought I should know before leaving so I would be safe on the road. Part of me felt like going outside was going to be a bad idea if I did it alone, but I did it anyway. One of the managers tried to stop me and the same person tried to urge me to go with them, but I insisted that I would be right back. It was overcast outside and the parking lot seemed to be dead. I for some reason had a flashlight in my hand like as if I knew it was going to be dark soon. It rapidly changed from an overcast parking lot full of cars to a pitch black void of parking spaces. I went to my car and that is when all hell broke loose. I saw a black eyed woman, probably in her late teens, early twenties. She wore a light jacket, jeans, and converse. I didn’t even see that she had black eyes until after speaking with her for a few moments.

Things at this point started to get a little bit scrambled and dodgy. At one point the scene flashed to me going into an office on a grassy hill with my managers. My back and chest was covered with only a towel while I wore pants. I was absolutely soaked and drained of energy. A few kind ladies where in dully designed office were helping me, trying to calm me down, yet they were completely oblivious to what was really going on. I tried to warn them not to go outside and yet… they still did.

Again, I was snapped back into the dream where I had seen the same co-worker being dragged off by more of the black eyed mutants, yet it seemed as though he got away for a brief second. I couldn’t necessarily tell for sure if he got away until later on towards the end of the dream. Majority of people were cornered by humanoid black eyed beings and were either hidden, ripped apart, or blasted into bits of bone and dust. It was an absolute gore fest as I could only stand outside amongst the blackness, helpless, unable to save my friends. Soon, I wasn’t able to comprehend what the black eyed girl said to me. A few others tried to come my way and talk to me. I ran past them and knew immediately that I just had to do something. I ran past all of the stores in the strip, jumping from platform to platform, listening to the godawful dying screams of my friends. I tried to keep my eye on what I needed to do and there was an ancient vault across the street, behind where I worked with which I knew the answer to this would be within my grasp. I was desperate to find some solution.

I find myself in what appeared to either be an ancient vault or tomb within a warehouse across the street. The walls were lined with thousands of pictographs and symbols I could not recognize. Jewels and fine crystals lined this vault-like marking on the wall which held a very strange artifact. It was a golden oriental Japanese fan. Suddenly, a large mass of jagged, growling, demented beings tried to intimidate me from grabbing the fan. One of them hopped out from the crowed and tried to bribe, threaten, and persuade me from grabbing it. I did it any way and flew out of there free from their grasp as I could hear their dying screams. It was music to my ears to hear the shrieks from hell bound beasts for I knew it meant I was starting to succeed past their evil.

I found myself change shape. I wasn’t Alex anymore, but I was a crane like creature that could use the fan to fly. I knew that I needed to fly out of there to get help while I still could. I could hear encouraging cheers and support from the ones below me. I had to jump from platform to platform in this such bizarre place. It was a set of buildings, old and new, built above a set of small creeks and rivers. It was absolutely beautiful and as soon as I reached the top, I could see beyond the horizon. I was so close to victory knowing I could save so many people and beat these bastards. Unfortunately, that was taken from me too soon when I was gearing to fly off when I heard a scream for help, and that scream asked for me. I jumped down believing I could save them, but as I got down there, I was knocked down and overrun by a few of the black-eyed mutants. They seemed zombie like in appearance and stone cold hearted like a hell frozen over parasite. The sky and everything around me turned red and the screams got louder. I could hear shards of glass and small explosions breaking out. I jumped onto a higher platform to try to get away, but one of the more aggressive ones hopped up and ripped my right hand off, the one that held the fan. The fan’s magical powers stopped working and the banshee could not get it from the hand it held. He tried to bargain with me, and I bluffed it and ran. After that, I woke up absolutely drenched in sweat and consumed by fear.


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(all credit goes to the original owner(s) of featured media)

Coulrophobia: Friend or Fiend

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God, the clown is here.

Is this a bad acid trip?

Or is this for real?


I am the clown mask.

I’m real and fake all at once.

Let me see your face.


I’ll never go back.

I love who I have become.

I love the clown crew.


I am a zombie.

I know I don’t look like one.

Clowns get hungry too.


Is your nose red too?

I love red eyes and noses.

Please join my club friend.


Can you see the light?

Love reflects the darkness within light.

Owning the costume is a blessing.

Won’t you join me and the others.

No one should feel left out.

Soon the world will be ruled by us.


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(all credit goes to the original owner(s) of featured image)