Long term stories · Short Stories · Weird-Crazy-Perhaps Scary · Writing and Poetry

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.)

Short Stories · Weird-Crazy-Perhaps Scary · Writing and Poetry

Those Ancient Hills (Pet Sematary Fanfic)- Intriguing Shrink’s Visit

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Holy crap guys! Before I get into the post, I want to say thank you so so so much for all of the support you have been giving to me. Your comments really do mean a lot to me. I never expected to have close to 5,000 people following me. It’s absolutely insane!

Anyway, the doctor’s visit… yeah… it sure was interesting. I’m not sure if I’m feeling 100% better after last night, but I think I managed to get some answers on what the hell is going on with me.

So I walked into his office, which is within a larger medical building that is interconnected with one of the local hospitals, Cunningway Hospital to be exact. It had weird vibes to it, but I think part of it had to do with me being so nervous! I asked Jeff and Danielle to come in with me so they could give some insight to the doctor on what I have been acting like when I sleep. I had to show up about 30 minutes early so I could fill out some paperwork. The office itself was very nice. It had light mocha colored walls, red and dark brown furniture, a couple fish tanks on each side of the waiting room, a light brown hardwood floor with a large round rug over the top of it, and soft classic music playing in the background. The front desk was at the middle of the room with one brown haired, blue eyed girl sitting at the desk. She was quite friendly! I could see other receptionists and nurses walking around the room, printing stuff, going through papers, working on computers, you know, basic doctor office stuff.

“Hello Alex! How are you doing today?” A tall, svelt, older gentleman walked through the door and waved hello to me. He had salt and pepper hair, a green dress shirt, black shoes, and tie, deep blue eyes and lightly tanned skin.

“I’m doing okay I guess.”

“Hm. Just okay?” I nodded then looked down at my feet. “My name is Doctor Shirley, but you can call me Steve.” He smiled sweetly and stuck out his hand to shake it. He had a firm, but not too harsh of a handshake. “So I hear that you have been getting some pretty nasty nightmares, is that right?”

“Yes.” I felt so nervous, I wanted to throw up. My stomach was churning and my hands were cold and clammy. I looked down at my feet a lot. ‘Thank god they’re not covered in mud’ I thought to myself.

“There’s nothing for you to be nervous about Alex! I’m a pretty harmless guy. I have worked with teens and young adults for over 35 years. I promise that there is nothing to worry about. Now, who are these two who have joined you today? Are they your friends?”

“Yes they are. This is Danielle and Jeff.” Both of them stuck out their hands and shook the doctor’s hand. “They’re just here for moral support, I guess you can say.”

“Have they signed our medical consent forms yet?”

“Yes they have.”

“Good good! Anyway, I have a few basic questions that I need you to answer for me. These are primarily ‘yes’ and ‘no’ questions. I just need to gather a little bit more information about you before we can move forward. Is that okay?”

“Oh yeah that’s fine with me.” The nervousness started to fade just a teeny tiny bit. I found that I was starting to regain a sense of control.

“Alrighty then, let’s begin!” The doctor took out a clipboard and a black pen which had a white feather glued on it. I thought it was quite clever. Going through all of these questions just tired me out. Don’t ask me why, they just did.

“It definitely sounds like you had a bit of a troubling past, is that right?”

“Yeah… I have. During all the crap that happened back then, I really felt like as though there was a point in time where my family wanted nothing to do with me. Though during those hard times I had the support of my two best buds. I don’t know where I would be without them.”

“Have you had any counseling in the past Alex?”

“Yes of course.”

“Is it okay for me to refer you to a local MFT?”

“Yeah, sure. Any help that you can give would be great.”

“Alrighty then! I will be referring you to a Dr. Creed. He is one of my trusted colleagues and a friend of the family since I was little.” My stomach dropped to the floor as soon as that name came up. My hands began to sweat again and I could feel myself get shaky. Doctor Creed… Creed was one of the names that ghost Pascow mentioned… Goddammit Alex get yourself together! It’s just a coincidence.

“At the end of the day Alex, it is your health that matters the most. Don’t let your past get in the way of what you want to do in the future. You are a very young, healthy, and intelligent young man with a positive future ahead of you. I can promise you that you will get through this and I will do everything in my power to help you.”

“Thank you so much for your help today Dr- I mean Steve.”

“Now Alex, I would like to meet up with you soon just to make sure that everything is going okay. Would week after next be okay with you?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Your friends can come too if you want.”

“I think I’m going to be going alone this time, no offense guys.” I felt bad for saying no to Danielle and Jeff. We have all been in the same classes, if not at least in one of our classes together throughout our whole lives. We were together almost all the time and were there for one another no matter what was going on. Like for example, when Danielle’s dad was in the hospital due to a heart attack during high school, we dropped everything we were during and were there for Danielle until her dad got out of the hospital.

“Nah, you’re good man. We totally understand.” Jeff gave a thumbs up and Danielle nodded in agreement. I gave out a sigh of relief knowing that I didn’t hurt their feelings.

“In the meantime Alex I want you to continue to take your medications normally. The only thing I would suggest for now before we visit again is to start to use more holisitcal approaches to your nightmares. Things such as Essential Oil diffusers, playing white noise in the background, ASMR, and other forms of stress releiving tactics could really be of use. I also advise for you to back off of caffeine as much as you can.”

“Okay, sounds good.” Some of the things he brought up were things that I have never heard of or even tried. It was worth a shot!

“Alrighty then! I’ll have you take these papers up to the front desk and they will help you set up another appointment soon. I will see you in about two weeks.”

“Thank you! I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”

I walked out the door, did my thing at the front desk, and all three of us headed out. As I walked out the front door of the doctor’s office, I took a deep breath, inhaling the cool autumn breeze, and exhaled slowly.

“How are you feeling Alex?” Jeff asked.

“Much better actually! I really like this doctor. Maybe even more than Dr. Daniels.”

“I’m not sure man, he seemed kinda off to me.” Danielle said. Both Jeff and I looked back at her in shock.

“What makes you say that Dani?” I was really taken aback by this. Danielle seldom talked about people like this. The only time she did was when something was really off. She’s really good at picking up on stuff like that.

“It’s just a feeling I guess. But, if he’s a good help to you Alex, then I have no right to say that.”

After the doctor’s visit, Jeff, Danielle, and I went out to a local cafe instead of Starbucks. It was called Vanilla Bean. It was a very sick cafe that was open from 8 am to 10 pm. It sat alongside the river and was about 15 minutes away from our house and around 20 minutes away from school. They served breakfast, lunch, and dinner at all times of the day. They were like an upscale version of Denny’s or Ihop. It was a hotspot for college students in the area for sure. We had coffee, brunch, and a whole lot of english rolls. They have the BEST rolls in the world.

The rest of the day went pretty well. No weird voices, no hallucinations, absolutely nothing! I took my medications normally and started doing what the doctor suggested for me to do. I got the diffuser and stuff from work after going to the Vanilla Bean. I set up my room with everything I needed and it was awesome. What was even better was that the nightmares stopped for a couple weeks. I was finally able to get some solid sleep and I didn’t feel so worn out during the day anymore. Every once in awhile I would see a fuzzy image of a wooden cross in a patch of crabgrass, but then the imagery would fade off into what I would consider to be a normal dream.

Except for last night. It was more than just a nightmare. This was a new reality for us all and there is no way out. The wooden cross, the rows of dead people, and even Pascow appeared once again, and I was fully awake.

Part 1- Introduction   |  Part 2- The Doctor’s Visit  |   Part 3- The Human Spirit Guide  |     |   Next Part   |

(All rights of original story belong to Stephen King. This is a fan fiction based off the original stories of Pet Sematary and Pet Sematary 2.)

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Randomness · Weird-Crazy-Perhaps Scary · Writing and Poetry

Dance of the Undead

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I can’t move but they dance.

I can’t breathe but they dance.

I can’t speak but they dance.

It’s so dark down here but they still dance.

Dancing gracefully, the salsa of the evil dead.

Evil for the sake of letting me suffer.

Each step and swing they make memorizes me.

They are truly beautiful ones.

How can they move so gracefully when they appear to be paper thin?

Bags of bones, dust, and rotted flesh fox trotting under the moon.

They laugh and howl through the grey mists.

They summon ones they only see worthy of their neverending dance.

I’ve been here for nearly 100 years still awaiting my turn.

They move freely and joyfully as I lay here sewn to the velvet casket underground.

Please let me join this dance.

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Alex Speak · Artwork · Randomness · Weird-Crazy-Perhaps Scary · Writing and Poetry

March to Hell

edb2e2fc1413e5ca3ff4ad1f9a73d4a8 Join us…

Join us…

Won’t you join us?

Join the March of the undead.

I slowly watch the pack where they gloat their glory.

Thousands are dead, millions are gone, hundreds are missing, dozens are lost, but one thing remains……

Hell.

One place, one time, one state of mind, one and only one…

Since I have tumbled into the black abyss, I can now say for sure that it is nothing like what you see in the books of history and time.

The dead do indeed walk this earth everyday. 

Rotten, decaying, revolting, appalling, infested, fly ridden, infected, sloshing, seeping…

A virus without a cure. An infection that can no longer be contained. A hope that is sure to be lost.

I lost mine the moment I looked into those lifeless eyes before I fell into the fire.14524_1_other_wallpapers_zombies

Empty sockets, grey skin, discolored teeth, tattered and ripped clothing, flesh and bits of bone missing.

This has become my daily norm.

They only feed off the living when the living come to their domain.

Since I got here, I knew I was next.

There’s nothing that can be said or done to fix that.

Fate is no longer in the palm of my own hands.

There is no fate, hope, faith, love, or joy.

There is nothing made of light in the null void we call hell.

unnamedJust the march of the undead souls who will walk for an eternity for a cruel false god.

He is the one that stands behind me with the empty eye sockets.

I can not defy him for it mean I would be part of the undead. 

Now after thousands of years, I’m not sure if it would be better for me to stay as the Devil’s apprentice or to be part of the March of the undead.

It makes absolutely no difference to me.

I’ll never know what it’s like to be dead…

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Alex Speak · Positivty and Funnies · Randomness · Weird-Crazy-Perhaps Scary

General Ode to Milk

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Good god I can’t live with myself.

I eat soup by day and indulge in milk by night.

My god its like a drug!

Not the soup, the milk.

I can go on and speak of the variety of soup I’ve had during my life time.

Chicken Noodle, Minestrone, Chowder, Vegetable, Beef, Lentil, Cream of whatever, so on..

But if there is one thing I can’t live without its…

No not money, its useless- I could burn it.

No not fame, I could care less about the world and others, I’m aloof.

No not power, … power over what? I’M DEAD! Can’t you see that?

No… none of that.

Just. Fresh. Ice. Cold. MILK!!!!!

It’s like psychedelic euphoria all in a carton for one.

The end to all worries starting with a sip.

A satisfying sensation that only makes you beg for more.

Ah… yes. Milk.

I don’t take any of that bullshit soy, almond, coconut, or whatever chemicals they use these days for milk.

Hell no! There’s no point in putting a label on liquid gold!

1%, 2%, whole, half & half, lactaid… whatever.

I like it fresh, straight from the sources.

It rejuvenates what is left of my mouth, face, and jaw.

I have no more feeling in my face, skin, jaw, eyes, or nose.

What is a corpse who will forever walk the earth with the rest of the undead to do?

Their all mindless zombies… NO! It’s not a stereotype. I’m not one of them.

I have class. I come from a rich culture. I prefer tasks of what I used to take on when I was once among the living.

Instead of gnawing on human remains using their sticky bones for toothpicks, I eat my daily soup and indulge in MILK!

I watch as my friends decay and fall apart slowly. But, here’s the thing, I haven’t!

My whole face region was damaged this way before I went to the otherside of humanity.

But, ever since I had gained this need to indulge this liquid beauty has seemed to make it stop.

You know what though? Even if it didn’t, I wouldn’t give a damn. It tastes ever so decadent and I just don’t fucking care anymore!

Now, if you excuse me, I myself and my late night companion have some catching up to do..


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