/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.3006253]

Write a 1-2 page original horror story. Go.

[Anonymous No.3006258]

[white ink, black paper]

Page 1:
One flew east
One flew west

Page 2:
Kill me, John.

[Anonymous No.3006265]

Page 1: Twilight

Page 2: Fucking Twilight

Bonus Page: Annoying 13 year-old fangirls flooding the movies, bookstores, etc., stealing oxygen from the people who actually deserve it.

[Anonymous No.3006299]

Page 1: Original, the horror story
Page 2:No John, you are the reader of this story

[Anonymous No.3006371]

And in the wrinkling of his eye, crowed-up corners, the tear ducts sagged and bagged and ballooned and leaked up lumps of water. Oh minstrel, sawing at your voicebox, it's a delight to delight in the pangs of your throbbing sobs. If I was present I would kiss and kiss you. Clatter up from the table settings, the rest of the family, your wife who was beautiful, your kids who are beyond hope and cling to her figurative teats like so many leech monkeys. The rest of your family are watching, and looking at each other. Oh how the eye perceives. Oh how the black goes back, into the shiny dark of eye-mind-sight, oh awareness, oh sharing! And the curls from the iron, and grooming, and the social contract, and retirement. Oh for retirement! And your flannel is woven from daintier hands than a human shrunk five thousand, NO, MORE, five hundred thousand, three and five and nine and more, plus and plus. The daintiest, tiniest man could not make a shirt of equal splendor in its tiny threads, hugging in symmetry of yellow, red, green, blue, grey white, grey. The banding and crossing. It is beyond compare, my knee-less legs wobble. Oh your face with the wetness and the thunder of your steps that rattle the furnishings and picture frames, and all the dishes. All the dishes a-jumping and fidgeting, they are so hard! They are so hard! But the air is leaving around you, the air, it leaps without knowing, there are columns and curlicues and none of them are seen, but you can think of them. You can see how it is to be unseen. You can see that they follow the distance you put between your family. Oh the lights, that recede and explain to us, that this is real, this is the end of me, this is the conjunction of awareness. Putting her elbow in the butter. Hands in face. Face in hands. Leaking up more. More.

[Anonymous No.3006375]

Page 1: Bob comes home to find his wife hasn't prepared a meal.

Page 2: Bob finds the second sex in his wife's drawer.

[Anonymous No.3006381]

a 1-2 page original horror story. Go.

The twist is, I COPIED AND PASTED IT

[Anonymous No.3006400]

[Anonymous No.3006431]

>>3006400
This is wonderful.

[Anonymous No.3006463]

>>3006371
>Using "and" more than twice in the same sentence.

[Mean Mr. Milkman No.3006584]

>I wrote this piece of shit back when I was in high school. It ranks among the worst things I've ever written in my life.
>Enjoy.

I awoke with the taste of blood in my mouth.

“AAARGH!” I screamed to no one in the darkness. I looked over at my alarm clock, which flashed “2:27 AM” in a bright, red hue. Only four more hours until I had to get up for another day of drudgery and schoolwork. Damnit, I thought to myself, this is the last thing I need right now. Apparently, I was having a nosebleed for no damn reason, like I often do. It’s probably a genetic condition, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Since I was awake, I figured I’d get some Kleenex from the hall closet. I stepped out into the hallway and sneakily tiptoed down the hallway as not to wake the rest of my family up. Hopefully, my blood didn’t drip onto the carpet. This was a big nosebleed, not normal in any way. I snatched a few Kleenex from the hall closet and went back to bed.

That’s when I heard it.

“THUMP.”

That’s odd, I thought. A noise coming from the downstairs hallway. I wonder what that could be. I walked downstairs, no longer worried about my family’s sleeping habits. They’re heavy sleepers, anyway, they’ll be fine, I thought. As my bare foot slapped the cold, hardwood floor of the downstairs stairwell, I suddenly heard the loud thump again, followed by the noise of what sounded like a crying child.

[Mean Mr. Milkman No.3006586]

>>3006584

Okay, I thought, that’s weird. I could’ve sworn I just heard Jonas crying in the kitchen. Jonas is my little brother, by the way. One of them. Eric’s the other, the heavy sleeper. Anyway, relieved that the crying child was just Jonas in the midst of one of his regular sleepwalking bouts, I decided to head into the kitchen to escort him back upstairs to his bedroom.

All of a sudden, a terrifying beast leapt out at me as I entered the kitchen. It had bright, red, glowing eyes that shone like demonic rubies in the night. Massive wings sprouted from its back, and, with a tremendous swipe of its horrible claws, it knocked me to the floor. Winded, I tried to stand back up, absolutely bewildered as to what was going on. As the gargoyle-like creature stood over me, I watched as it screamed out in victory and a vicious claw swiped for my face. Then, a blinding flash of light blinded me for a second, and the beast was gone. I looked at the digital clock in the hallway. Its face shone “2:57 AM” in neon green numbers.

Okay, I thought, what the hell is going on? First, Jonas lures me into the kitchen by crying, then some sort of demon attacks me? I swear, when I get my hands on him, I’ll...

A new noise interupted my thoughts. I could’ve sworn I heard a door slam shut. Also, footsteps were walking down the stairs. I’m in for it now, I thought. If that’s Mom, she’ll be furious if she sees me. Out of fear, I hid behind the downstairs couch. The door slowly opened, but what I saw what not a half-asleep Mom entering the door. The figure I saw looked like a man. A tall man. I decided to get a closer look at this mystery person. I turned on the lamp. What I saw was the most horrifying sight I had ever seen.

[Mean Mr. Milkman No.3006588]

>>3006586

This man was missing half of his face! The lower-right portion of his face was a skull and muscles, and maggots festered in the crevices of his face. Frightened, I ran for the laundry room and locked the door as quickly as my shaking hands could lock it. As I turned slowly around, expecting some more weird creatures to come out of the woodwork, I saw a strange, blue light emmenating from the bathroom. For some strange reason, some odd, unseen force compelled me to wander into the bathroom, so I figured that I might as well do so.

The dank, fetid bathroom smelled of an unusual odor, like a candle mixed with the aroma of putrid flesh. I decided to turn on the lights. This blue light was okay, but it didn’t help me to see any better. As I inhaled the air around me through my nostrils, I noticed that the foul stench was coming from the bathtub. Slowly, I opened the shower curtain.

A corpse of a woman lay soaking in a pool of blood in the bathtub! Horrified, I tried to scramble out of the bathroom, away from this nightmare, but my nightshirt was being tugged by something. I turned around, and the undead woman rose up out of the tub of blood, her hand still grasping my sleeve. She shouted one word at me.

[Mean Mr. Milkman No.3006590]

>>3006588

“BLOOD!!”

“AAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!!!” I screamed as I ran out of the bathroom. As I threw the door open, I saw the blinding light again, and I was knocked unconscious.

When I awoke, I was lying on the floor of the upstairs hallway. I frantically climbed off of the floor and rushed into my bedroom, locking the door as I went. I panted heavily as I went to bed. I looked at my alarm clock. It shone “2:27 AM” in the same, red numbers. Could this have been a dream? I thought to myself. Could this have been a hallucination? Oh well, no time for that now, I’ve got to get some sleep.

“Good night, Josh,” an eerie vocie whispered to me, followed by wicked laughter. I fell asleep in a cold sweat.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Damn my alarm clock! I thought, as I climbed out of bed. After doing my normal morning routine, such as my shower and such, I walked downstairs in my socks. I decided to get some apple juice from the fridge, but as I entered the kitchen, I slipped and fell on some spilled, liquid substance. Cursing to myself, I looked, saw what the slippery substance was, and gasped, taken aback in horror.

A pool of blood stained the tile of the kitchen floor...

THE END of "Voices in the Darkness, part 1"

>I mean, really? "Voices in the Darkness?" Fucking godDAMN, 15-year-old me. CHRIST.