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Diary of a Serial Killer - Entry 4April 21st, 2013

Sorry I haven't written... I have been extremely depressed because... well, I've been trying to take care of the cats. They're clean now, and I'm gradually feeding them, but of course they're not going to show much improvement over four days. But... the pregnant mama died three days ago... and I've been sobbing like mad. I took the poor thing's body to a vet to check if we could save the babies but... they had apparently been dead for a few weeks before mama died, which may have been a contributing cause. I told the veteranarian about rescuing all the cats and asked for advice. He said to just keep up with what I'm doing an
ChristmasClose your eyes little one, don't be afraid. There are no monsters under your bed; there is no Santa stalking you. They do not exist. Here, tonight, on this Christmas day, just lay down and sleep. Let no nightmares plague your mind for the world is yours.
What a sweet child you are and how innocent your dreams are. Dreams of candy cane houses and a jolly fat man with presents. To imagine that those very houses will rot your heart. To imagine that he would commit such atrocities upon your pale skin.
Oh how much you have grown since that Christmas day. Your smile made of ashes, your hair of rags and your eyes of death. It's such a pity you have lost your subtle glow, such a pity you've lost your sweet voice. I'm afraid this day will be your last.
Missing Tonight, the park is full of people. Concerned volunteers, police searchers, and worried family members convened together, all with the same purpose.

A child has gone missing.

A brown-haired little girl, wearing a blue checkered dress and a cheap bracelet with heart-shaped charms.

It has been twelve hours.

The police have little hope for her survival.

The volunteers are serving soup to the weary searchers who have been looking for her nonstop since she was first reported missing. There is a big campfire in the park, courtesy of a kind stranger. The searchers sit around the fire, savouring the warmth of the blaze and the soup. They
The Double Door    The bus crept slowly down the highway. The driver kept his eyes alert for any sign of movement. It was quiet on the bus. Suddenly to the left a figure lurched at the front headlights and started clawing on the hood. "We've got a dead one.", the driver muttered under his breath. He stopped the car but kept it running as he opened the double doors leading to the desolate world known as Earth. the metallic ring of his gun clanked against the change in his pocket. The money had no value anymore, but he liked to keep it in his pocket; it kept him sane. He pulled the gun out and roughly slammed a clip into it, full of bullets. With eyes closed,
Jeff the Killer vs Tera the Irken chpt. 1 I had crash landed on Earth around the age of six.  I was on a run from the law, a rebel.  Lucky for me I had found a family who would willingly take me in for the next 7 years.  But there was something strange about that night, I swear I had seen a faceless, white skinned man, standing there watching me.
Here I was 7 years later, going to an Earth school, bored out of my mind, trying to fit in with the normal humans.  I did good stayed on the edges never had very many friends.  All for their own protection of course, I don’t think anyone would want to be friends with an irken rebel named Tera.  I had changed my name to fit in here.  
Get OutIt started at dinner. The sound of a door creaking, opening or closing I know not.

We heated six small frozen lasagnas, a bowl of assorted vegetables and another bowl of various fruit added to our pre-made main course. Strong raspberry lemonade, but diluted with water, as our drink.

Turning my attention to the food before me, I would hear it. The creaking. I would turn and strain to locate its source. The sound stopped.

Eat and the creaking would continue. Stop eating and stare at the nearby door. No sound. Resume consuming the heated pre-made lasagna, which was not bad. Repeat. This occurred through the entire meal until dessert.

I thoug
HemoplagueViolet stepped away from the cave, feeling her job was well done. She heard groaning from inside, and panic sprouted in her mind. Had someone been in there? She walked back, seeing someone that wasn't familiar, but wasn't foreign either. He was turned away from her, on the ground, muttering something just barely audible from where she was standing.
"I will kill whoever did this... I swear on it," Vlad murmured, an anger in his voice that was beyond terrifying, "My home... destroyed. I will punish whoever did this to my home."
Violet turned away, terror in her eyes, she stepped away lightly, trying to be as quiet as possible. She knocked agai
Wordspill: HolidayHoliday

Spill:

His heart was still pounding from the altercation he had that morning. He hated confrontation. But he had to do do his best to get the holiday lsot. Not susually a problem

It wasn’t usually a problem. No one wanted to work on the holiday but the new guy seemed desperate for extra hours. It was annoying. He’d pressured him for a good ten minutes until he’d had to give in. He didn’t wat to make a scene.

All day he brooded over the lost work. It wasn’t the pay for him. The overtime was nothing to him, but the access, the being at the crematorium was supremely important. It was his routine his sche
Ventin'ALRIGHT,SO.

My mom told me I'm going back to PUBLIC SCHOOL next year.

AND THAT SAME ONE TOO.

She asked us if we were excited.I moaned and said yeah.That's why I laid down and took a nap. Cause I wasn't really feeling too good about it.

I wonder what would happen,

if they found out about me right now.

About the following:

Insomnia,Split personality disorder(I think this is what they call it lD If not then mood swings.),thoughts about cutting,thoughts about suicide lately,a little bit of amnesia,depression,

There is two other things that I really do not want to talk about.

And what if they know about my art...

What would they say???Th
Alone Together Excerpt 2He had to get out. He had to get out of this place which dripped, creaked while the world screamed. The cage he locked himself in. His shield from the violence outside, and all of its' bloody madness. All he wanted was to smash through the windows, and fly through. To feel the slings and arrows deflect off of the real Melvin Tanner. Not "Mitch". Not the scared little boy. Not the brooding loner or the miserable teen. Not the nihilist in the tower, but the creature begging to know release.

But the ghost stopped him. It reminded him of his inherent lack of superpowers. "YOU CAN'T GO.", it reminded him. "NOT YET. YOU'LL DIE DOWN THERE. STAY WIT
Jeff the Killer vs Tera the irken chpt. 5I sat there letting the information sink in.  “I am going to kill people?”  Slender Man thought about it for a moment and then shook his head side to side a little.
“That all depends on you, if you kill people you kill people, but not all Creepy Pastas kill people.”  I sighed and nodded at Slender.
“Okay, so I am staying here with you guys.”  He nodded and stood up silently walking to the door, he shoved it open and all three boys stumbled back.  Jeff fell and Jack and Ben landed on top of him.
“When I lock the door doesn’t it mean I want a private conversation?!”  The three boys smiled in
ash on your tongueThe tea tastes like ash against her lips, burns the words before they can reach her throat. Gunpowder green. He watches her over the rim of his cup. Milk? Sugar? The usual pleasantries over cups of liquid war. The tea makes its way down my throat, smoky and strong. You watch carefully, your lips curling up slightly.

Do you want some sugar? you ask in a voice not matching that hard glint in your eye. Milk? A hand hovers expectantly over the sugar bowl.

She shrugs, sips, stares. That gunpowder flavor stays on her lips, tattooed onto her tongue. The ash presses against her mouth, burns her throat. She likes it. Gunpowder. It was killing her, a
The dark cabin was dark gloomi  The dark cabin was dark gloomily creaking - a sleeping logger slept soundly. The logger, a slightly older man with a greying beard. snored heavily with a gaping mouth, a loud sleeper. The cabin door opened slightly - a pair of eyes stared vacantly through the crack between the door and the wall.
 The creature, a dark shadow that was silent, opened the door causing the man to wake up with with a jolt, screaming loudly.
 But he looked, and nothing was there.
 The man got up off the bed, he had a shuffling step. He walked to the door, and quickly shut it. And then he locked the door. He was sure the door would stay closed, but just in cause
Thinking while smokingAs she kisses the end of the cigarette, breathing gently essences of death, I catch a unholy twinkle in her eye, masked behind the vale of a silent killer. Slowly as the smoke runs across her face like a liquid spirit on it's way to heaven, I gaze deep into soft snow white skin of her abyss, a ghoulish desire for this wicked angel fills me, a desire only the grave can rid. Then the realization that I was before the angel of death thrilled me and I couldn't stare no more.
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Threadbare Doll
Playing with threadbare doll,
Hestia waits
along a dusty path of rubble and dim lights.
The child hums, sweetly,
her own rhythmic fantasy adhered;
absent from the night of gunfire and blood.

High above on waning clouds
the Goddess is weeping;
she reaches for the girl--
the hearth of home is extinguished.
And the threadbare doll
has pleasure as she dances
between little grey pebbles
and the hands of the child.  

Playing with threadbare doll,
Hestia waits
The child will soon see her.
The barefoot child with dirty
dress and dirty face crouched
over the ballroom floor
listening to invisible song.

Child, let me lift
Catkuwrimo 2009
1.

witnessed by stars
cheshire cat
smiles

2.

snow discovery!
kitten dislikes
cold taste

3.

lolling by fire
paws tickle
warm air

4.

mew from kitchen--
empty bowl, again

5.

a cat does not
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window protection
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Little black cat,
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yellow eyes yearn,
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How they all cried in shock
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Haikuwrimo Summer 20081.

platonic aether-
an ideal bond for
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2.

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our mortal madness
spoilt your roots.

3.

spiritual energy;
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sapphires salsa,
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Ambitious Virgo-
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on strings-
harmony in the winds.

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July 3, 2011
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Three guessing what programme is on TV whilst I wrote this one :D
:iconplaugh:
*Plaugh Jul 21, 2011
Beautiful descriptions and marvelously ironic. :)
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:iconthornyenglishrose:
*ThornyEnglishRose Jul 3, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
An original idea, and nice poetic language. :)
Reply
:iconralfmaximus:
*RalfMaximus Jul 3, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
"Does anyone hear... screaming?"

"No," I said carefully, cocking an ear to be certain. Shrugging, I broke off another piece of bread and buttered it.

"There it is again! Are you sure you don't hear it?"
Reply
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