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July 15, 1897
"No! No, no, no! The note is 'F', not 'A'! Preform the song correctly the first time and don't disappoint me any further."
"Start back at the top. For every mistake you make you will repeat the song that many times over until you can finish the song without making a single error."
Abiding his mother's orders, Cyril continued to play his beloved violin. Although he loved playing the violin, he didn't particularly care for his mother's harsh words and punishments. Cyril didn't want to disappoint her, so he continued to play.
"Cyril! The note on the measure is 'F'! How much mired do you wish to anger me!?" His mother scowled and spoke with disdain.
"I'm s-sorry.. I'm trying, I really am! See?" Cyril tried to play the song again, but was interrupted by his enraged mother.
"No, you don't 'try' to play correctly. You will play correctly. You're a noble. You shouldn't be such a disappointment. Nobleman are supposed to set an example amongst the common p
MonsterSince you were a child
you have been checking your wardrobes and under your beds for monsters
But what you don't know that there already is a monster in your life
Always following you
Always with you
Until you die
I guess you don't know what I'm talking about right now
We humans forget that there's a monster inside all of us
Locked in a cage in your head
For the right moment for you to snap and break open the cage for it so it can take control
That monster is our insanity
A raging beast that is inside of us all
But one day cage will break
And the beast will be released for it to rampage
Creepypasta: Pretty Little ThingsCreepypasta: Pretty Little Things
Isn’t it funny how the things that tickle our imaginations as children seem terrifying in perspective when we grow, and vice versa? Even time itself, which seems naught but a blessing to a child, appears increasingly ravaging and crippling to an adult through its bastard offspring, “age”. Eventually it is so akin to the grim specter of Death itself that it turns our bones to ash and, except in extraordinary cases, erases all memory we ever lived. But I am above such things. I have lived for all times and for all ages, and all because of Theresa.
Theresa is a doll of the porcelain variety, although that is like saying that the revolver which was used to assassinate Archduke Ferdinand and kicked off World War I was .32 in calibre. What I’m trying to say is that just thinking of Theresa as a doll is to miss the underlying subtext of what she represents. To illustrate my point, I found Theresa in my bathtub when I was filling it wit
in flesh and bloodHe finds her unassumingly. She's just standing there, cheeks ruddy, bundled in a forest green jacket lined with fake—he thinks—fur. He finds her, hands in pockets, feet atop the grass. The light that floods the panes of her face casts dark shadows beneath her eyes and along her jaw and he thinks for a moment that she might be kind of beautiful.
"Why are you standing before the Eiffel Tower and looking so sad?"
Her head snaps. He counts, one, two, three, seconds, and then she turns her face upward toward the monument in front of the two. They are alone. She doesn't say anything and then she's saying something and he has to turn his attention from the angles of her face to her brown, brown, brown eyes.
"Do you think it's lonely?" Of course not, he thinks. Of course not.
But all he can utter is no as he stares up at it. When she asks him why he sputters and turns to face her again, and sh
Creepypasta: Bloody MaryCreepypasta: Bloody Mary
The Bloody Mary ritual is probably the most popular method of summoning a spirit among casual ghost hunters. No one really believes in it, and when someone does see something odd after the incantation is performed it is attributed to the sensory deprivation of being in a darkened room. But maybe if I explain the origins of the story you will be a bit more receptive to the truth.
Mary was a waif of a 16 year-old girl who lived in the countryside of Scotland during the Wars of Scottish Independence which occurred in the tail end of the 1200s. Mary saw none of the war however, and for that matter barely ever saw the world outside her family’s shamble of a dwelling except when she was allowed to. You see, her parents were obsessively worried for Mary’s safety. She was their only child, and because they loved her more than life itself, they forbade her from living a normal life so as to keep her protected. They just never wanted to lose her. Ironically,
Ritual of Death Sometime in the 90’s, a group of children were reportedly attacked outside their school building. The school was nearly vacant, and the kids were only there for an after-school club. They told police that they were held prisoner inside while a creature prowled around outside. One boy and a girl tried to make a run for it, and insisted that they were attacked by a creature with many faces.
The boy told them that the creature bragged about having 1000 faces, and offered to show them every one of the faces it had. They both refused to look as the creature’s head began to change. The boy reported that they stood there, facing the direction opposite the creature with their eyes closed, for the longest time until the creature had finished. It then whispered a few words to the boy before disappearing.
The boy only remembers one thing from the words the creature had said, and he called it the “Ritual of Death”. Po
What Comes Out of the Shadows I was always afraid of the basement.
My parents chalked it up to what they called “post-moving paranoia” or something like that. I could only remember that the basement of the new house we moved to filled me with a chilling, dark feeling. I never knew why it bothered me so much.
Even my parents never really went down there. The previous owners had left a ton of stuff down there, and if it had been any other house I’d have been down there searching for anything interesting. I couldn’t go into the basement here though. Not in this house. The basement seemed like its own territory, and you didn’t want to trespass on its territory.
The house itself was nice. My room was small and there was a dent in the wall, but it was nice. My parents had a room that connected to a bathroom, and the kitchen was near their room while the living room was closer to mine. It was a small, cozy house, but
Can You Keep a Secret?: Zalgo's ProtegeCan you keep a secret? Can you keep a secret? Can you keep a secret? Can you keep a secret?
"H-h-h-h-hello, loves. C-c-c-c-care to hear a story?" The young boy spoke nervously, his accent easily recognizable as British. "C-c-c-can you keep a s-s-s-secret? W-w-well, alright then."
Before a captive, literally tied to their seats, audience, a young man stood on a stage, dressed all fancy in white. He wore a perfect old English tux, with shirt tails and all. His hair a short and ruffled ginger, freckles on his cheeks, pale skin, his eyes covered by a strange white blindfold. It had strange symbols on it, written in blood. No one really knew what they meant, but one looked like an upside down capital 'A' with a few lines going down across the bottom. The next looked like half star upside down with the two ends at top coming down in two lines past the bottom point, and the last one was a swirl like a pinwheel that was X-ed out.
Strange carnival-like music played in the background as he smirk
RD4 - Ashley's Crappy Rescue 13
Bursting into the camp, he yelled, "GRAB ALL OF OUR CRAP, WE'VE GOTTA MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE! Zombies are after me!" Luis woke with a start. "Whaddya do this time..." He asked, slightly drowsy. "I ACCIDENTALLY SNIPED ONE WHILE I WAS TARGET PRACTICING TO GET MY MIND OFF OF DESTROYING THINGS AND AAAAAAAGH" Leon choked as a zombie grabbed him from behind. Luis sat and watched his friend, laughing. God, was this Spaniard stupid. "Haha, Leon, I think that zombie likes you!"
"Are you having your 'evil issues' again?"
"Oh, OH! CRAP, LEON, THERE'S A ZOMBIE CHOKING YOU!"
Luis pulled out his gun and shot the zombie. Both Leon and the zombie fell to the ground, except Leon was breathing heavily and rubbing his neck. More zombies started appearing down the path by the time Leon recovered, but he recovered in about 10 seconds. These zombies were moving pretty fast. "Ugh, okay... LETS GO! DON'T FORGET THE STUPID PIZZA, LUIS! Ahem, ugh, okay. Good. NOW
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