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STORY TIME ~ With your host . . . Eric "The Viking" Leach

I'm screaming endlessly into the void as truly indescribable monsters rise from the great abyss to swallow me whole.

And on that day when the tears of gods rain down upon the earth, I shall offer up those feet and arms to the great endless void that sits just beyond the edge of the universe.

AND THEN THE VOID SHALL CLAIM ME AND I SHALL BE ONE WITH IT! I WILL BECOME IT'S SPOKESMAN AND WE WILL DEVOUR ALL LIFE AND LIGHT.

That, my dear Tay, would be the blood of my innocent enemies that sought my ruin and to stop the consuming of all that exist.

THE ASYLUM SHALL BE WHERE IT SHALL RISE FROM, AS IT WAS SAID FROM THE BEGINNING IN MASSES OF LUNACY AND UNTHOUGHTFULNESS SHALL RISE THE DOOM OF ALL THOUGHT.

THE RICH WILL FLEE FROM THEIR WEALTH AND POOR FROM THEIR POVERTY AS THEY GREAT VOID EATS AND INHALES EVERY LIVING THING THAT EXISTED, EXIST AND WILL EXIST.

AND WHEN THE VOID HAS CONSUMED ALL THAT IS, WAS AND WILL BE, I SHALL STRIKE IT DOWN AND TAKE IT'S PLACE. IT WILL STARE INTO THE BLACK, HALLOW REMAINS OF MY SOUL

AND IN THAT MOMENT WHEN ITS GREAT EYE IS OFF OF ME I SHALL DEVOUR IT AS IT DEVOURED ALL THE WORLDS

AND THEN I SHALL SPEW FORTH THE ACID REMAINS OF ALL THAT WAS EATEN AND I SHALL REMOLD IT

INTO MY IMAGE AND I WILL BE ITS CREATOR AND ALL WILL LOVE ME

And then, when all the world bows at my feet

I shall create a void, deep away from the known universe and I will give it a hungry that can never be satisfied.

The lack of caps make it more dramatic

Instead of a great shouting it is a quiet whisper

yes!

DO NOT MENTION THE WHISPERING

TO DO SO IS TO BRING IT UPON YOU

THAT WILL PLAGUE YOUR MIND FOREVER

SLOWLY IT WILL SPEAK TO YOU

COMFORT AND GUIDE YOU

THE WHISPERING WILL TELL YOU TO MURDER AND YOU WILL DO SO

YOU SHALL NOT THINK ABOUT YOUR ACTIONS

YOU DO NOT CARE WHAT HAPPENS, FOR THE WHISPERING COMMANDS IT.

YOU SHALL MURDER, STEAL AND COMMIT ALL VILE ACTS KNOWN TO MAN

YOU SHALL BE CALLED MONSTER

YOU SHALL BE CALLED CRUELTY INCARNATE.

But you shall know such names to be false.

For the whispering tells you are an angel. The whispering tells you are you a guardian.

YOU WILL GROW OLD AND ALONE, LEFT TO ROT, MUMBLING INCOHERENT THINGS TO A VOICE NO ONE CAN HEAR.

no one but you

YOU SHALL FEEL A FRIEND HAS BETRAYED AND LEFT YOU TO DIE

THE END

THE END OF ALL THAT IS NOT GOOD

A GREAT FIEND, RELEASED FROM ITS PRISON INSIDE THE VERY SUN ITSLEF

but no

and inside the mind of every living creature a hatred shall stir

and it will spread and spread

AND FRIENDS SHALL TURN UPON EACH OTHER, LOVERS WILL MURDER

THE ENTIRE WORLD WILL DIE WITH DAYS AND THE DEMON SHALL LAUGH

THE STARS SHALL EXTINGUISH AT ITS SOUND

but the demon went too far

it's own trickery turned against itself

and in the end

he through himself into the void to die

For now.

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Comment by Matt (Ninja Badger) on January 29, 2015 at 12:48am

Episode 3:

                 Blue Screen.

This is a story about a man who is neither tall or short and isn't thin or fat.

He is an average man.
This man, who is not short or fat or tall or thin, works in an office building.
He sits at a desk all, staring blankly at his computer.
His computer has crashed, and it seems to stare back him with a blank blue screen.
The light from the blue screen suddenly pulses.
Then again.
It sounds like a dull thump.
 
Thump. Thump. Thump
This man blinks twice, as the thumping continues.
The grey walls of his boring office is surrounded in a faint blue glow.
 
Thump. Thump. Thump.
 
His eyes, impossibly dark and soulless, stare forward into the computer's screen.
He adjust his glasses and his eyes become like obsidian glass.
The blue light of crashed computer's screen does not reach this man's eyes.
Those bottomless pits of shadow and tar seem to repel light.
 
Thump. Thump. Thump.
 
The light dims, as if suddenly afraid.
A groaning sound issues forth from the computer, like a panicked laugh made of unimaginable horror.
The man, who is not tall, or thin, or fat, or short, grins.
His smile like a poisonous insult.
The white teeth in his perfectly flossed mouth is like a shark's maw.
Rows of sharp teeth protrude from his vile grin.
A grin like a devils smile.
 
Thump. Thump. Thu-
 
The computer does not finish it's sound.
The screen goes black and the reflection of the man laughs, while the man stares, grinning.
A dull blue light flashes in his eyes for a moment.
His hand moves to his desk.
 
Thump. Thump. Thump.
 
The end.
Comment by Tay Jardine on December 11, 2014 at 12:14am

Can't believe I missed it this time!! Just as awesome as before though


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Comment by Gumbo V2.0 on December 9, 2014 at 1:06am

Episode #2 - - - THE  VOICE

Did you feel a gnawing, clawing voice deep in the darkness of your mind telling you to ask?

Well? Did you, Matt?!

DID YOU HEAR AND EVEN FEAR THE SLIMY FINGERS OF THE ABYSSAL CREATURES REACHING UP FROM THEIR DARK PITS TO COMMAND YOU TO SUCH AN ACTION?

Did you find yourself helpless against their commands? Did you sink slowly into despair as you realized you could not resist their voices?

Did you find your mind becoming less and less thinking and more and more just a conduit for their vile commands and wishes?

Conjuring up the forgotten and not yet discovered histories of the the vile and evil creatures that go bump in the night is what I do.

Bringing forth the darkness and shadow of the written words that will haunt your nightmares of waking and sleeping hours is my job.

HERE LIES THE BROKEN AND BURNT REMAINS OF THE ONE WHO QUESTIONED TOO MUCH

He is an old, almost skeletal man. If he is even a man anymore.

Dark robes that seem to cling to his thin and frail body.

With a hammer and chisel he wanders into the night, seeming to glide over the ground, a twisted grin etched permanently into his pale face.

A heavy fog rolls over the graveyards as he sets about his task. One by one the blank slaps of stone become filled with the names of those who have not yet died.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

He goes all through the night with such robotic movements, never ceasing.

Those dark holes stare forth into the thickening fog.

All through the night.

THAT'S HIS JOB

He moves to the next stone, and cocks his head to the left. A name has already been put there.

What remains of his once human mind scans the text, trying to decipher the strange words.

He cannot help but move forward, drawn to the odd and strange words that seem to have no meaning.

He feels himself falling suddenly, faster and faster down into a deep abyss.

The stone slab is falling with him.

He does not notice his body hit the ground, does not hear the crack of his bones.

Those strange swirling patterns loom before him.

He feels as if he is growing quite small in face of that tomb stone. Feels all semblance of willpower leave his body. All emotions, all feeling run away from that stone.

Soon he feels nothing at all. Just a deep and unending desire to stare at those words. Those peculiar and otherworldly words.

He hears faintly some call in his mind, some voice. It is a purring and comforting voice. Perhaps like a cat?

He suddenly reaches out and tries to grasp at the stone, which absorbs his hand with a ripple.

He tries to pull back, a great fear washing over him like a crashing wave. The stone will not release him.

He pulls harder and harder, and tries to brace his legs against the stone. The words seem to move slowly, hypnotically. He feels himself being pulled forward, and begins to panic.

I felt as if the story wasn't appreciated.

Where was I?

His heart begins to pound, harder and harder. And he feels his legs sink into that stone. Fear comes again crashing over him again.

And just like that his heart calms. That same purring voice again speaking words he cannot understand in his ear.

As he feels himself being pulled further and further into that stone, he suddenly understands.

He tries to scream, but can only hear that voice. That same voice that spoke the words inscribed on the stone. That same voice that caused him to feel fear unlike anything else and yet also calm and relax him.

Black, gooey liquids flow forth from his mouth and eyes and ears as he flails and waves his arms, frantically trying to escape that voice.

He hears it's siren's call again and tries to resist, tries to ignore it's soothing tones. Tries to feel anything but that horrible fear. Soon that stone swallows him whole.

With a scream he leans forward quickly, sweat covering his frail body and his sheets.

With a sigh of relief he stands from his bed. He walks over to a shelf and grabs his silver hammer and chisel and begins his slow walk toward the cemetery.

He does not notice a faint voice in the air, does not notice the light fog that is started to appear.

The end.

Comment by Arthwaya (Squirrel Queen) on November 22, 2014 at 1:14am

AWESOME

Comment by Akrasia on November 21, 2014 at 5:58pm

interesting...

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