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Creepypasta story making.; Write your own. It can be about whatever you desire.
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Topic Started: February 24, 2015, 7:30 pm (304 Views)
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Shigitou burikaa
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February 24, 2015, 7:30 pm
Post #1
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give me a reason to care once more. new mod for the grt. -in sachiko I trust-
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Hola! So like the topic and description says, this topic is for making your own creepypastas. This idea came from a story i came up with in a pm with yoshie master.
I will post it soon. But til then, go and make dos creepy stories.
SIDE NOTE: please make serious stories. NO joking/funny stories. If you want to make them, i made a topic for that. http://w11.zetaboards.com/corpseparty/topic/10401544/
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ste teraz mojej obete. Vitajte v mojom herňa, zvieratko. Ja som teraz mučiť vás. . ~ポケウォーズ9000™ i am servent to no one.
I'm married to nana!
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Darkie
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February 24, 2015, 7:54 pm
Post #2
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im gay.
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Mario came out of my game and murdered my mom and parents.
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im gay and i love love live, bang dream and mirishita. anyway my twitter is @alfredlover69
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Shigitou burikaa
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February 24, 2015, 8:03 pm
Post #3
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give me a reason to care once more. new mod for the grt. -in sachiko I trust-
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Please come up with a more indepth story, darkie. This is no short stories topic.
decieved in kyle's room, he plays with his ipad, he goes onto safari to browse in the website he likes called the corpse party forums. Kyle recieved a PM from yoshie shinozaki, zenya and diabolic. They all asked for him to hang out because they were near where he lived; irwin pennsylvania. Kyle got in his honda accord and drove to the destination, in murrysville. There was a small house and that was the same house he was sent to. Kyle walked up to the door and opened it. (THEN BLOOD AND GORE WAS EVERYWHERE! <— every creepypasta ever.  Jk) There was no one inside, not even a mouse was in the home. Kyle then logged onto the forums with his phone and pm's zenya who said she was already in the house, when he pm's her though, she sent a reply saying nothing. Kyle then went and searched the house from upstairs to the downstairs and found nothing. The house was abandoned. Another pm flashed out at him and it was from yoshie, he said that he was in the house. Though sadly, kyle was standing at the only entrance there is to the house. Kyle: that is strange... Where is everyone? Kyle asked himself then sent a pm to yoshie, only to find him posting the same reply as zenya; absolutely nothing. Diabolic then pm'd and he said that he just got out of his car, meanwhile... Kyle was the only one around. Kyle then went to pm dia, but diabolic pm'd kyle and it said nothing as well. No ellipses dots or anything. After recieving the same pms, kyle ran out of the house and ran to the police station: the murrysville police. Kyle asked if the officer knew where these people were: cam, jessica and jack (kyle showed him the last names too but i dont know that tbh and also, not sure what dia's irl name is. Lol) The officer looked up their profiles and saw that there was no record of them. Not even with them living right now. Kyle asked if the officer could look up where jessica's home was since she lived near. The officer refused because there was no trace of her existance. He then kicked kyle out of the station, and then kyle went out to williamsburg PA to zenya's house. Once he found the house, it was a little shack, it was not even a house. Kyle went inside and saw nothing, not even one window, nor a door. Just one empty room. Just about ready to leave, kyle found a note on the roof. It read: what you see can be decieving. I dont even exist. Kyle freaked out and thought what it meant. He went onto the forums, but no one was there. Just a letter to him saying: open your eyes. Your life is full of lies. End
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ste teraz mojej obete. Vitajte v mojom herňa, zvieratko. Ja som teraz mučiť vás. . ~ポケウォーズ9000™ i am servent to no one.
I'm married to nana!
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Souly
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February 24, 2015, 8:21 pm
Post #4
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♪ Piece of Garbage ♪
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- Darkie
- February 24, 2015, 7:54 pm
Mario came out of my game and murdered my mom and parents. my mom and parents
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Ah? Ah? What's wrong with a little f i l t h in your life?
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Shigitou burikaa
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March 21, 2015, 5:38 pm
Post #5
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give me a reason to care once more. new mod for the grt. -in sachiko I trust-
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hell
Today was very strange. It all started with when I woke up. I was in the dark, nothing around me. Why did I feel empty minded? What happened to me? I started walking, but something felt as if I was walking down. Soon enough I saw red light, I walked towards it and when I got there, I was in a cave of fire, with fire crystals. "Am I... In hell?" I asked, half afraid. "Yyyyyeeesss" a ghostly voice was heard. After that voice. I then started to realize. "Oh yeah... I killed my love. And then I got a heart attack. I guess I deserve to be here. Oh Nana."
The end.
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ste teraz mojej obete. Vitajte v mojom herňa, zvieratko. Ja som teraz mučiť vás. . ~ポケウォーズ9000™ i am servent to no one.
I'm married to nana!
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Mr. Stabby
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March 23, 2015, 7:34 pm
Post #6
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Chief of Memes - Has watched entire Important Videos playlist back to back
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Spoiler: click to toggle
Merengue
an Animal Crossing story
It was another wonderful, bright day in the small town of Ylisse when Gage woke up. It had been precisely 73 days since had rained, a miracle for said town. Staring up at the light blue ceiling, Gage rolled out of bed, his hair very unruly. He had slept in again. Of course. Sighing, he checked his wallet. 7,834 bells. Rolling his eyes, Gage shifted his hnd through his dresser in search of his Mario hat. Once he found it, he trecked out of his house, in which was a full set of ice furniture. Noticing his mailbox had a letter in it. Slipping his hand inside, he pulled it out. It was from his absolute best friend, a strawberry shortcake colored rhino who was rather sweet and friendly.
When he opened the letter, he felt a great wave of sadness fall over him.
Chapter 2 later!
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My life is an outdated meme

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Shigitou burikaa
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March 26, 2015, 5:06 pm
Post #7
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give me a reason to care once more. new mod for the grt. -in sachiko I trust-
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- Mr. Stabby
- March 23, 2015, 7:34 pm
Spoiler: click to toggle
Merengue
an Animal Crossing story
It was another wonderful, bright day in the small town of Ylisse when Gage woke up. It had been precisely 73 days since had rained, a miracle for said town. Staring up at the light blue ceiling, Gage rolled out of bed, his hair very unruly. He had slept in again. Of course. Sighing, he checked his wallet. 7,834 bells. Rolling his eyes, Gage shifted his hnd through his dresser in search of his Mario hat. Once he found it, he trecked out of his house, in which was a full set of ice furniture. Noticing his mailbox had a letter in it. Slipping his hand inside, he pulled it out. It was from his absolute best friend, a strawberry shortcake colored rhino who was rather sweet and friendly.
When he opened the letter, he felt a great wave of sadness fall over him.
Chapter 2 later! About time someone made a serious story on here besides me. ^^
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ste teraz mojej obete. Vitajte v mojom herňa, zvieratko. Ja som teraz mučiť vás. . ~ポケウォーズ9000™ i am servent to no one.
I'm married to nana!
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Zaion
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March 27, 2015, 4:10 pm
Post #8
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FanFiction writer/Translator/Character Bio writer
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I wrote this ages ago for my fanfiction, so this might be cheating.
Spoiler: click to toggle A dark space, the only light is from the numerous small candles that grow out of the void and float in empty air. It's impossible to see how large this place is in this light, no walls or ceiling are illuminated.
Only Blackness.
This is a place that doesn't follow the rules or laws of normality.
Actions that are denied by reality occur at every turn.
Candles melts upwards, the wax beads flowing towards the flame, but the candle itself descends into the darkness.
Others appear normal, until you notice they are perfectly still, as if it were a painting of a candle, even the glowing flames are perfectly still.
Lights flicker and dance above pools of melted wax so clear it looks like water. The image of the dwindling wick is reflected as if in a mirror, yet the flame doesn't appear on the pools surface.
Two candles standing side by side gradually bend towards each other. The supposedly un-melted body twisting as if someone had heated it to sculpt it. They bend towards each other and melt into one unbroken cylinder of wax.
A ripple, a wave of distortion. The candles bend, as if they too were a reflection on the surface of the water that someone had disturbed.
A figure emerges from the ripple. A white hand stretches out and the world stills. The candles continue to burn.
This is the owner of this world. Everything here is its.
"A doll house," The figure begins, "a house for things that look human, but are not. A house not for living in but for simply watching. Just watching and playing.
To be; admired, adored, idolized, and worshiped or to be; glared at, scowled at, scrutinized, and dissected, but finally to be; watched, inspected, monitored, and examined. To be observed"
A single candle rises out of the black floor and floats upwards.
"The observer effect. The effect 'observation' has on the 'observed'."
The figure beckons and the candle floats towards it and stops in front.
"Under everyday circumstances, all it describes are the unfortunate side effects of measuring something.
For temperature, you need to take heat.
For pressure, you need to take force.
In order to measure something you must affect the value being measured."
A droplet of wax slithers its way down the candle and drops to the dark surface below.
"The very act of measuring defeats its own point.
By measuring it you either increase or decrease the thing being measured.
Therefore in trying to learn something about it, you make it impossible to know the exact parameters of it."
The drop of wax hits the obsidian floor and sends a ripple across it.
"Under normal circumstances this effect is too small to be noticed. On top of that these can be minimized even further by using better equipment, or better techniques."
The ripples gradually slow but in their place a reflection of everything above them appears.
"Humans aren't immune to it either.
People are different when they are with people than when they are alone.
Even the thought of being observed by another thing or person can affect our thoughts and actions."
The floating candle drops and disappears, as if it had blown out of existence like the flame it had carried.
"This is also a sort of social 'observer effect'. But, that's not all of it you know?"
The white fingers coax something towards them and a small cat crawls out of the darkness. Its body is perfectly created from wax down to the detail of each and every hair. If it weren't for the sickening white colour of its eyes, ears, and mouth you would think it a normal white cat.
"The observer effect underlies the very basic laws of our world."
The figure picks up the cat and holds it in both arms while stroking it.
"By 'knowing' something we can change the very 'existence' of an object.
Quantum mechanics has this described in a variety of ways.
The paradox of Schrödinger's cat, the uncertainty principle of Heisenberg."
The stroking ceases and the cat is dropped but instead of falling it floats.
"What are these you ask?
Schrödinger's cat is a thought experiment. An extrapolation of a bizarre concept."
The cat's limbs are stretched, as if being pulled on a rack.
"A cat is placed in a box. This box will kill the cat, but when it dies is entirely random. It might be the moment you close the lid, it might be at the very end of its nine lives. But when it is in the box, you do not know if it is alive or dead."
A snap, and the cat breaks, spilling white fluid out of the cracked remains of its limbs. The head has been twisted off.
"In this, ridiculous, situation the cat can be said to be both 'alive and dead', a superposition. An object that is in multiple 'positions' or 'states' at the same time.
In other words, by looking inside the box the one who either killed or saved the cat isn't the box, nor the person who put it in the box. It is your curiosity.
Until you look inside the box, for you, the 'observer', that cat is both dead and alive. It exists in both states and only by observing it do you determine its fate for yourself."
The remaining parts of the cat lose their definition. The hairs melt, the shapes of its paws and head sink into the center, forming two balls of smooth wax.
"The uncertainty principle of Heisenberg; it is an equation. But that name itself is a misnomer. For it is an in-equality, the left and right sides do not have to be the same."
The two balls of wax float in midair. One begins to spin in a circle the other remains in place.
"It describes the conflicting idea; the more you know about something the greater your ignorance of another thing grows."
The spinning ball has begun spinning so quickly it no longer looks like a ball but a white ring.
"Some would say it is like the observer principle.
But it can't be fixed by using better techniques or equipment.
Nothing is being taken from the observed for it to be measured.
If you 'predict' or 'calculate' where an object is going, you will lose sight of where it is.
In reverse, 'knowing' or 'learning' where the object is will stop you from seeing where it is going."
The ring and the ball suddenly crumble like dirt. Flakes of wax scatter into the darkness on an unseen wind.
"You might think such a thing is insane.
But remember, our perception was never meant to observe the 'truth' of the world."
The figure raises a bare arm and the darkness expels a single simple chair, also made of wax.
"Its function was to maintain the flame called life, long enough for it to reproduce. It's fundamentally unfair to ask humans to realize this, like using a beer bottle for a telescope."
The figure sits down on the chair and places their clasped hands in their lap.
"By 'knowing' or 'observing' something, the very act changes the 'observed'.
In reverse by 'not knowing' or 'not observing' we can change the fate of the object."
The right hand begins to trace a circle in the left palm.
"There is a Black Magic, a dark law of Mara, which does this in cultures all over the world."
A glint from where the figure's eyes would have been pierces the darkness.
"The Evil Eye."
The glint disappears
"The application of the act of 'observing' something with evil intent, in order to 'realize' that intent.
It has many names.
Isabat al'-ayn in Islam.
Buri Nazar in India.
Bouda in Ethiopia.
Chashm zakhm in Persia.
Mal de ojo in Spanish.
Even in semi-isolated regions of the world, it is known. The Maka pilau of Hawaii.
Common, so often, in belief that it could be said it was one of the very first forms of mage-craft to exist.
To affect someone through merely looking at them…"
An exasperated sigh sounds in the dark.
"Such a thing would be considered un-natural. How can simply 'observing' have an effect on anyone? It wasn't a club or a sword, neither was it a rock or an arrow.
Thus it was ascribed to the realm of the occult, recorded in the works of history and superstitions both alive and dead."
The figure stands, and approaches one of the many floating candles in the air.
"This is the Doll's Mansion, a world built upon this very effect. Taken in by the horrific illusion of being 'observed', the psyche is gradually ground to dust."
The light illuminates the face of the person.
"Without rest, just watched, forever. Not a single thought or expectation is within those gazes, the only color they receive is painted by the nightmares within one's self."
A wax face, a simple shape of a person's exterior. A mannequin made of wax stands alone in the void.
"Most suffer in fear and crumble under its gaze… thus self-murder, or is self-destruct more appropriate? Regardless it is not a place one can remain long."
The mouth of the wax figurine, twists into a smile sending cracks running across its cheeks.
"This an Estate for Effigies, the only things allowed are those that exist only to be observed."
The mannequin begins to shake and flakes of wax fall to the floor where tendrils of darkness spear and devour them.
"Dolls.
Without self-consciousness, 'things' that only have their existence noticed.
If you stay here, eventually, you will be turned into…
A Doll."
The mannequin collapses, limbs break and fall from their socket as the torso collapses and splits open on the ground before threads of darkness swarm over it like insects over a fresh corpse. The black floor bulges and wraps around the mannequin.
Once it flattens out there are no remains of the wax body or its parts.
Only the multitude of candles floating and melting, growing and fusing.
In the darkness.
And a modified version of the dog lick story I did for a friend.
Spoiler: click to toggle About three years ago there was a girl of about 9 or 10 years of age living somewhere in Fujisawa city. One night her parents left her to mind the house by herself due to both having to work overtime at their respective jobs. Both phoned her separately at different times, apologizing for leaving her alone and promising to come back some time tomorrow afternoon. The girl, trying to help her parents, simply accepted their apologies and told them to leave the house to her. Each parent hung up expecting the other to be able to return by tomorrow morning.
Both mother and father reminded her to lock all the doors and windows since a suspicious shadow had been seen in the neighborhood the past couple of nights.
Following their instructions like a good little girl she locked all the doors and windows, but she couldn't reach the small ventilation windows. The ones at the top of the large sliding glass doors in the living room that opened into the back garden. She tried standing on chairs and desks but she couldn't reach them. Sighing she gave up and instead settled with closing the curtains tightly. Childishly thinking that they would shut out all the monsters of the night.
After tying the curtains shut her dog, called Molly, waddled up beside her and licked the back of her palm in greeting. The wind blew outside and rattled the window causing her to jump as the curtains billowed slightly but blocked the flowing air.
Letting out a tired breath she decided to just go to sleep quickly and hope that tomorrow would come soon. Retiring to her room her, which opened up into the living room.
As she lay in bed trying to go to sleep as the sound of the wind howled outside she dangled her hand over the edge of the bed. A wet lick greeted her palm and she giggled as her dog pressed its nose into her hand. Gradually sleep took her as she played with the dog, expecting the morning sun to greet her when she next opened her eyes. A dreamless sleep took over her.
When she next woke up it was still night. The wind howled again and the faint sound of something dripping from somewhere in the house reached her ears. The drip drip of liquid sounded very near for some reason to her sleep addled mind. Drowsily she dangled her hand over the side of the bed to make sure Molly was still beneath it.
A brief wet lick tickled her palm and she smiled as sleep took her again.
The sound of dripping entered her dreams. A metronome of liquid hitting the floor, counting out the seconds until the morning.
Suddenly she woke up again.
The wind continued to howl outside like a injured dog as well as the same drip drip sound of a leaky faucet or pipe. Nuzzling her pillow she stuck her hand over the edge of the bed with her eyes closed. Again the wet feeling of a rough tongue tickling her skin comforted her and she fell asleep again.
In the next dream she saw herself playing with Molly in the park. A leaky water fountain dripped water onto the hard stone basin but the drain seemed to be jammed so the water gradually filled it up changing the drip of liquid on solid to the plop of drops falling into a pool. She looked into the pool for a moment to see what was jamming the drain, before Molly's pitiful whimper drew her attention. The big brown eye's of the dog stared up into her face for a moment.
Then she woke up.
The drip drip drip of liquid continued. Still counting out the few remaining seconds left of the night. The wind had died down a bit but continued to rustle against the walls and windows of her room. The girl curled up underneath the covers suddenly feeling very lonely. The warm blankets dulled the feeling but just to be sure she stuck her hand underneath the bed again. A lick eased her loneliness and sent her back to sleep.
Her next waking revealed the morning. Stretching out her arms, letting the blankets fall off of her as always. She smiled at the sun sneaking in between the curtains. Turning around she stuck her hand underneath the bed expecting Molly to nuzzle it before crawling out and wagging her tail, expecting an early morning rub.
But nothing greeted her hand this time, even though it had during the middle of the night.
"Molly?" she called but didn't receive a reply.
A sudden chill fell on her shoulders and she looked up. Her bedroom door was slightly ajar letting in a slight breeze. Breathing a sigh of relief she started to get out of the covers. The old mutt had probably decided to have an early breakfast and nudged her door open to eat get to the stocked up food bowl she had left from the night before. That was what had opened the door and let in the slight chill she was feeling.
Then she realized that there should be no wind at all. Why should there? There was no way it could get in the first place. Even when the wind howled outside the curtains had stopped it from entering the house.
Slowly, with shaking hands she pushed off her blankets and slipped on the pink bunny slippers next to her bed. She calls Molly's name again but all it does is reveal the tremors in her own voice.
Another gust of wind that shouldn't exist blows in through the small crack in her otherwise sealed room. Her feet slowly pad toward the door and trembling fingers wrap around the cold handle before pulling it open.
The living room is empty. Sunlight streams in from the billowing curtains and they waver gently with the slight wind coming in from the open sliding doors.
*Drip, drip
The noise from last night sounds. Her knees shake and almost give out. The sound of liquid hitting liquid echoes from somewhere inside the house.
Slowly she approaches the source of the noise. It comes from the bathroom. As she approaches it she sees the pink tile of the wall inside. But there are no windows here. The only thing that can allow her to see those pink tiles are the electric lights inside.
Lights that she would have switched off last night.
She puts a hand on the frame of the bathroom and looks inside.
Molly's skin is spread out over the mirror. Its organs are packed in the medicine cabinets on either side. The large brown eyes that looked up at her stared blankly from beside her father's toothbrush. Residual drops of blood drip down from the limp tail into the basin below which is filled with red. Besides its face is a long, narrow, pink tongue. And in large red letters a message is scrawled across her guardians remains.
'Humans can lick too.'
She feels a wet tongue graze the back of her neck. )
Edited by Zaion, March 27, 2015, 4:17 pm.
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Check out my fanfic Corpse Party: Blood Drive Aftermath.
I can also translate from Japanese to English. Open to requests.
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Shigitou burikaa
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July 17, 2015, 9:00 pm
Post #9
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give me a reason to care once more. new mod for the grt. -in sachiko I trust-
- Posts:
- 3,590
- Group:
- Banned
- Member
- #858
- Joined:
- 01/16/14
- Country
- Belgium
- Location:
- Locked up in a casket.
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- Zaion
- March 27, 2015, 4:10 pm
I wrote this ages ago for my fanfiction, so this might be cheating. Spoiler: click to toggle A dark space, the only light is from the numerous small candles that grow out of the void and float in empty air. It's impossible to see how large this place is in this light, no walls or ceiling are illuminated.
Only Blackness.
This is a place that doesn't follow the rules or laws of normality.
Actions that are denied by reality occur at every turn.
Candles melts upwards, the wax beads flowing towards the flame, but the candle itself descends into the darkness.
Others appear normal, until you notice they are perfectly still, as if it were a painting of a candle, even the glowing flames are perfectly still.
Lights flicker and dance above pools of melted wax so clear it looks like water. The image of the dwindling wick is reflected as if in a mirror, yet the flame doesn't appear on the pools surface.
Two candles standing side by side gradually bend towards each other. The supposedly un-melted body twisting as if someone had heated it to sculpt it. They bend towards each other and melt into one unbroken cylinder of wax.
A ripple, a wave of distortion. The candles bend, as if they too were a reflection on the surface of the water that someone had disturbed.
A figure emerges from the ripple. A white hand stretches out and the world stills. The candles continue to burn.
This is the owner of this world. Everything here is its.
"A doll house," The figure begins, "a house for things that look human, but are not. A house not for living in but for simply watching. Just watching and playing.
To be; admired, adored, idolized, and worshiped or to be; glared at, scowled at, scrutinized, and dissected, but finally to be; watched, inspected, monitored, and examined. To be observed"
A single candle rises out of the black floor and floats upwards.
"The observer effect. The effect 'observation' has on the 'observed'."
The figure beckons and the candle floats towards it and stops in front.
"Under everyday circumstances, all it describes are the unfortunate side effects of measuring something.
For temperature, you need to take heat.
For pressure, you need to take force.
In order to measure something you must affect the value being measured."
A droplet of wax slithers its way down the candle and drops to the dark surface below.
"The very act of measuring defeats its own point.
By measuring it you either increase or decrease the thing being measured.
Therefore in trying to learn something about it, you make it impossible to know the exact parameters of it."
The drop of wax hits the obsidian floor and sends a ripple across it.
"Under normal circumstances this effect is too small to be noticed. On top of that these can be minimized even further by using better equipment, or better techniques."
The ripples gradually slow but in their place a reflection of everything above them appears.
"Humans aren't immune to it either.
People are different when they are with people than when they are alone.
Even the thought of being observed by another thing or person can affect our thoughts and actions."
The floating candle drops and disappears, as if it had blown out of existence like the flame it had carried.
"This is also a sort of social 'observer effect'. But, that's not all of it you know?"
The white fingers coax something towards them and a small cat crawls out of the darkness. Its body is perfectly created from wax down to the detail of each and every hair. If it weren't for the sickening white colour of its eyes, ears, and mouth you would think it a normal white cat.
"The observer effect underlies the very basic laws of our world."
The figure picks up the cat and holds it in both arms while stroking it.
"By 'knowing' something we can change the very 'existence' of an object.
Quantum mechanics has this described in a variety of ways.
The paradox of Schrödinger's cat, the uncertainty principle of Heisenberg."
The stroking ceases and the cat is dropped but instead of falling it floats.
"What are these you ask?
Schrödinger's cat is a thought experiment. An extrapolation of a bizarre concept."
The cat's limbs are stretched, as if being pulled on a rack.
"A cat is placed in a box. This box will kill the cat, but when it dies is entirely random. It might be the moment you close the lid, it might be at the very end of its nine lives. But when it is in the box, you do not know if it is alive or dead."
A snap, and the cat breaks, spilling white fluid out of the cracked remains of its limbs. The head has been twisted off.
"In this, ridiculous, situation the cat can be said to be both 'alive and dead', a superposition. An object that is in multiple 'positions' or 'states' at the same time.
In other words, by looking inside the box the one who either killed or saved the cat isn't the box, nor the person who put it in the box. It is your curiosity.
Until you look inside the box, for you, the 'observer', that cat is both dead and alive. It exists in both states and only by observing it do you determine its fate for yourself."
The remaining parts of the cat lose their definition. The hairs melt, the shapes of its paws and head sink into the center, forming two balls of smooth wax.
"The uncertainty principle of Heisenberg; it is an equation. But that name itself is a misnomer. For it is an in-equality, the left and right sides do not have to be the same."
The two balls of wax float in midair. One begins to spin in a circle the other remains in place.
"It describes the conflicting idea; the more you know about something the greater your ignorance of another thing grows."
The spinning ball has begun spinning so quickly it no longer looks like a ball but a white ring.
"Some would say it is like the observer principle.
But it can't be fixed by using better techniques or equipment.
Nothing is being taken from the observed for it to be measured.
If you 'predict' or 'calculate' where an object is going, you will lose sight of where it is.
In reverse, 'knowing' or 'learning' where the object is will stop you from seeing where it is going."
The ring and the ball suddenly crumble like dirt. Flakes of wax scatter into the darkness on an unseen wind.
"You might think such a thing is insane.
But remember, our perception was never meant to observe the 'truth' of the world."
The figure raises a bare arm and the darkness expels a single simple chair, also made of wax.
"Its function was to maintain the flame called life, long enough for it to reproduce. It's fundamentally unfair to ask humans to realize this, like using a beer bottle for a telescope."
The figure sits down on the chair and places their clasped hands in their lap.
"By 'knowing' or 'observing' something, the very act changes the 'observed'.
In reverse by 'not knowing' or 'not observing' we can change the fate of the object."
The right hand begins to trace a circle in the left palm.
"There is a Black Magic, a dark law of Mara, which does this in cultures all over the world."
A glint from where the figure's eyes would have been pierces the darkness.
"The Evil Eye."
The glint disappears
"The application of the act of 'observing' something with evil intent, in order to 'realize' that intent.
It has many names.
Isabat al'-ayn in Islam.
Buri Nazar in India.
Bouda in Ethiopia.
Chashm zakhm in Persia.
Mal de ojo in Spanish.
Even in semi-isolated regions of the world, it is known. The Maka pilau of Hawaii.
Common, so often, in belief that it could be said it was one of the very first forms of mage-craft to exist.
To affect someone through merely looking at them…"
An exasperated sigh sounds in the dark.
"Such a thing would be considered un-natural. How can simply 'observing' have an effect on anyone? It wasn't a club or a sword, neither was it a rock or an arrow.
Thus it was ascribed to the realm of the occult, recorded in the works of history and superstitions both alive and dead."
The figure stands, and approaches one of the many floating candles in the air.
"This is the Doll's Mansion, a world built upon this very effect. Taken in by the horrific illusion of being 'observed', the psyche is gradually ground to dust."
The light illuminates the face of the person.
"Without rest, just watched, forever. Not a single thought or expectation is within those gazes, the only color they receive is painted by the nightmares within one's self."
A wax face, a simple shape of a person's exterior. A mannequin made of wax stands alone in the void.
"Most suffer in fear and crumble under its gaze… thus self-murder, or is self-destruct more appropriate? Regardless it is not a place one can remain long."
The mouth of the wax figurine, twists into a smile sending cracks running across its cheeks.
"This an Estate for Effigies, the only things allowed are those that exist only to be observed."
The mannequin begins to shake and flakes of wax fall to the floor where tendrils of darkness spear and devour them.
"Dolls.
Without self-consciousness, 'things' that only have their existence noticed.
If you stay here, eventually, you will be turned into…
A Doll."
The mannequin collapses, limbs break and fall from their socket as the torso collapses and splits open on the ground before threads of darkness swarm over it like insects over a fresh corpse. The black floor bulges and wraps around the mannequin.
Once it flattens out there are no remains of the wax body or its parts.
Only the multitude of candles floating and melting, growing and fusing.
In the darkness. And a modified version of the dog lick story I did for a friend. Spoiler: click to toggle About three years ago there was a girl of about 9 or 10 years of age living somewhere in Fujisawa city. One night her parents left her to mind the house by herself due to both having to work overtime at their respective jobs. Both phoned her separately at different times, apologizing for leaving her alone and promising to come back some time tomorrow afternoon. The girl, trying to help her parents, simply accepted their apologies and told them to leave the house to her. Each parent hung up expecting the other to be able to return by tomorrow morning.
Both mother and father reminded her to lock all the doors and windows since a suspicious shadow had been seen in the neighborhood the past couple of nights.
Following their instructions like a good little girl she locked all the doors and windows, but she couldn't reach the small ventilation windows. The ones at the top of the large sliding glass doors in the living room that opened into the back garden. She tried standing on chairs and desks but she couldn't reach them. Sighing she gave up and instead settled with closing the curtains tightly. Childishly thinking that they would shut out all the monsters of the night.
After tying the curtains shut her dog, called Molly, waddled up beside her and licked the back of her palm in greeting. The wind blew outside and rattled the window causing her to jump as the curtains billowed slightly but blocked the flowing air.
Letting out a tired breath she decided to just go to sleep quickly and hope that tomorrow would come soon. Retiring to her room her, which opened up into the living room.
As she lay in bed trying to go to sleep as the sound of the wind howled outside she dangled her hand over the edge of the bed. A wet lick greeted her palm and she giggled as her dog pressed its nose into her hand. Gradually sleep took her as she played with the dog, expecting the morning sun to greet her when she next opened her eyes. A dreamless sleep took over her.
When she next woke up it was still night. The wind howled again and the faint sound of something dripping from somewhere in the house reached her ears. The drip drip of liquid sounded very near for some reason to her sleep addled mind. Drowsily she dangled her hand over the side of the bed to make sure Molly was still beneath it.
A brief wet lick tickled her palm and she smiled as sleep took her again.
The sound of dripping entered her dreams. A metronome of liquid hitting the floor, counting out the seconds until the morning.
Suddenly she woke up again.
The wind continued to howl outside like a injured dog as well as the same drip drip sound of a leaky faucet or pipe. Nuzzling her pillow she stuck her hand over the edge of the bed with her eyes closed. Again the wet feeling of a rough tongue tickling her skin comforted her and she fell asleep again.
In the next dream she saw herself playing with Molly in the park. A leaky water fountain dripped water onto the hard stone basin but the drain seemed to be jammed so the water gradually filled it up changing the drip of liquid on solid to the plop of drops falling into a pool. She looked into the pool for a moment to see what was jamming the drain, before Molly's pitiful whimper drew her attention. The big brown eye's of the dog stared up into her face for a moment.
Then she woke up.
The drip drip drip of liquid continued. Still counting out the few remaining seconds left of the night. The wind had died down a bit but continued to rustle against the walls and windows of her room. The girl curled up underneath the covers suddenly feeling very lonely. The warm blankets dulled the feeling but just to be sure she stuck her hand underneath the bed again. A lick eased her loneliness and sent her back to sleep.
Her next waking revealed the morning. Stretching out her arms, letting the blankets fall off of her as always. She smiled at the sun sneaking in between the curtains. Turning around she stuck her hand underneath the bed expecting Molly to nuzzle it before crawling out and wagging her tail, expecting an early morning rub.
But nothing greeted her hand this time, even though it had during the middle of the night.
"Molly?" she called but didn't receive a reply.
A sudden chill fell on her shoulders and she looked up. Her bedroom door was slightly ajar letting in a slight breeze. Breathing a sigh of relief she started to get out of the covers. The old mutt had probably decided to have an early breakfast and nudged her door open to eat get to the stocked up food bowl she had left from the night before. That was what had opened the door and let in the slight chill she was feeling.
Then she realized that there should be no wind at all. Why should there? There was no way it could get in the first place. Even when the wind howled outside the curtains had stopped it from entering the house.
Slowly, with shaking hands she pushed off her blankets and slipped on the pink bunny slippers next to her bed. She calls Molly's name again but all it does is reveal the tremors in her own voice.
Another gust of wind that shouldn't exist blows in through the small crack in her otherwise sealed room. Her feet slowly pad toward the door and trembling fingers wrap around the cold handle before pulling it open.
The living room is empty. Sunlight streams in from the billowing curtains and they waver gently with the slight wind coming in from the open sliding doors.
*Drip, drip
The noise from last night sounds. Her knees shake and almost give out. The sound of liquid hitting liquid echoes from somewhere inside the house.
Slowly she approaches the source of the noise. It comes from the bathroom. As she approaches it she sees the pink tile of the wall inside. But there are no windows here. The only thing that can allow her to see those pink tiles are the electric lights inside.
Lights that she would have switched off last night.
She puts a hand on the frame of the bathroom and looks inside.
Molly's skin is spread out over the mirror. Its organs are packed in the medicine cabinets on either side. The large brown eyes that looked up at her stared blankly from beside her father's toothbrush. Residual drops of blood drip down from the limp tail into the basin below which is filled with red. Besides its face is a long, narrow, pink tongue. And in large red letters a message is scrawled across her guardians remains.
'Humans can lick too.'
She feels a wet tongue graze the back of her neck. ) F*** i forgot to comment on this.
Zaion i am amazed by you. This creeped the shit out of me. This one was spectacular, i like.
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ste teraz mojej obete. Vitajte v mojom herňa, zvieratko. Ja som teraz mučiť vás. . ~ポケウォーズ9000™ i am servent to no one.
I'm married to nana!
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Zaion
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July 17, 2015, 9:58 pm
Post #10
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FanFiction writer/Translator/Character Bio writer
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Here's another one from the same Corpse Party: Blood Drive fanfiction. It's actually a section I wrote ahead of schedule, so it's waiting for the story to catch up to be uploaded.
Interlude – Scream Encore “Hey, what’s this?” A boy kicks the bottom of something large and black. A double layer of what looks like thick black leather is dumped on the side of the road.
“Whoa, it’s huge!” Another boy runs up from behind him. The setting sun turns the world orange. Just two kids finding some garbage on the side of a mountain road. The side of the mountain, decorated with a dense forest, rises up in front of them. Behind them a single white guardrail stands above a steep slope made of squares of concrete, reinforcing the bottom of the mountain. They stand on the black asphalt, bordered on either side with white and striped down the middle.
“How do you think they put this on?” The first boy asks. Both of them wear randoseru backpacks, indicating their age and grade.
“No idea, maybe they wore stilts?”
“No way, I bet they had some sort of puppet suit inside it! You know like those suits they use for the old sci-fi movies.”
“That again? You sure love your old B-movies.”
“Sh-shut up! Godzilla’s a classic! You don’t know how hard they had to work to get it to move like that.”
“Fine, fine. Whatever... Still it’s kind of creepy isn’t? Especially that mask bit...”
“Yeah, I guess... Maybe that’s why it was thrown away?”
“Seriously... this is a bit over the top for littering. Doesn’t big garbage like this have to go to some sort of special center?”
“Why should I know!”
“Oh right you still mix up the days for burnable and non-burnable trash don’t you?”
“That’s why I didn’t want to do that job! Because I mixed them up I ended up getting lectured by that stupid baldy until now.”
“You know that guy’s our homeroom teacher right?”
“Don’t care, he’s always complaining about how the ‘Youth of today’ are sloppy or lazy or something.”
“Well, the class-rep did tell you which bag to take and you still got it wrong.”
“Sh-shut it! You got it wrong as well!”
“Watching you catch the flak was too much fun.”
“Y-you... *sigh. Why am I friend with you again?”
“Because I’m just that awesome I guess.”
“In your dreams.”
“dREaMsZZZ?”
A sound like a broken speaker spattered from the mask. The black figure shuddered before sitting up. Its face is illuminated, revealing a cheap looking plastic and metal mask.
A white and red mask with a massive fixed grin, baring two rows of white teeth and red gums, appeared in between the dangling baubles on its hat. The top lip was missing and the right eye seemed to have been sewn shut with thick white threads. Instead of a nose, a thick metal plate had been nailed into its position. The chin was so long it looked like the fake beard's Egyptian pharaohs used to wear. Red paint seemed to have been applied on the single remaining lips and chin leaving only a thin line of the original white of the mask in between the red. The same red paint had been applied around the left eye in a starburst pattern so large it extended up the mask's forehead and slithered its points to the right side of his face, as if it were a carnivorous red starfish. Dirty brown hair peeked from behind the mask and under the brim of the fool's hat the thing wore. Four purple balls jiggled around its head, as leaves and dirt trailed from its scraggly brown hair. A single eye surrounded by a sickly red, five pointed star stared forwards, unmoving.
Both boys jump at the sound and back up towards the white guardrail behind them.
“Wh-whoa it’s still working! And that voice! See I told you it had to be some sort of special effects prop!”
“H-hey, let’s just get out of here... that thing gives me the creeps.”
The boy, who had been further away from the black thing before it started moving, tugged at his friend’s sleeve.
“D-d. duh! Dh. Dee! DrrrrrrEEEAAAmzzzzz?” The mask seems to test whatever mechanism it uses to speak before repeating the last work it spoke.
“Dreams are important! Yep! Very impotant! Good dreams. Bad dreams! All important.” The figure drags itself upwards like a puppet by its strings. Like the mountain behind it, it towers over the two children. “Because dreams tell you if you’re awake or not! All the worst things happen only in dreams after all! The sleeping brain dumps all its troubles in dreams! While the waking one puts all its hopes in it! Tricky, tricky. That’s what it is!” It slides forwards with a peeling sound, like a band aid being torn off a fresh wound, the sound of glue and hardening blood splitting apart.
“So... what dream do you think this is?”
...
...
...
The sun has completely set. The road is empty of people or people like things. But the road which was only black and white that afternoon has gained new color.
Red stains spattered the white guard rail. Tomorrow a driver will see them and sigh, assuming it to be an act of childish vandalism. Wet smears crisscrossed it like hand paint before wrapping around one of the posts. The cement mountains side has small white fragments embedded within it. A few days later a forensics expert will confirm that these are human nails. Ten red lines are then dragged across the asphalt. They are hard to see against the black especially once they’ve dried completely but the white borders clearly show the added pigment. They are straight until a certain point before they begin to circle as if the painter had flailed their fingers around making circles and ovals at random intervals.
Two boys will be reported missing to the police tomorrow morning. It will be taken up by a morning news show a day after that.
But...
They won’t be the only ones.
Incidents like this will be repeatedly reported to the police.
For the twisted, one thing, horror show has come again.
And another unpublished fragment.
Bandage Freak It no longer remembered who it was.
It no longer remembered if it was male or female.
But, even though it had forgotten the most basic things, it remembered why it was here.
It was a member of the Grave of Maltuva, a low class member who simply attended mass and paid the occasional subscription fee.
There were many like it. People amazed when they witnessed spiritual healings and powers. They were promised a new world where such miracles were used by everyone.
If only they knew, what it took to make a miracle...
It was selected for its low self-esteem and willingness to please. Many others were chosen as well, promised with the power to change themselves.
And changed they were.
They ceased being humans and became materials for the Grave’s research.
Their meat was cut, bones were broken, and intestines crushed.
And each wound was made to be their fault.
“We do this for your sake.”
Those were the words uttered with each blow, like a prayer or mantra.
“We do this so you can become a miracle.”
One after another, the materials broke. Souls fell apart and bodies ceased to function. Failure after failure, but the Grave used these failures as well.
“It’s because you didn’t become a miracle, that they died.”
At first, the materials suffered together. This was an experiment, so they all started out at the same point. The same pain was applied, the same message given. As time went on, they slowly varied the torture each one went through.
So, the materials knew there were others who suffered like them. The knowledge that they were not alone gave them some comfort. Thus, the deaths of their comrades were used efficiently. In order to further dye the survivors.
“Everything is your fault.”
That was the only thought that would occur in their minds. That was the only conclusion they were allowed to achieve.
But that wasn’t enough.
All it did was create more black stains on the floor.
Finally, there was only one material left.
That was ‘it’.
It had out lasted all the others, but they didn’t expect much from it. Most of its body was gone, darkening was already setting in. The scraps were barely held together by the bandages used to stop the bleeding.
“It’s your fault that it came to this, because you didn’t become a miracle.”
“Sthap... pweeaze... sthup...”
The material spoke for the first time in a long while
Usually, it didn’t need to speak.
Everything was its fault.
That was all there was.
Then, all it had to do was pay the price for its failure, and accept the punishments of all the others.
It was the reason the others had failed and it was the reason it had to be punished.
Everything was its fault.
So, it needed to succeed for all the others who failed.
That thought was what had managed to keep it here for so long. So, there was no need to speak. All it had to do was suffer its uselessness until it became a miracle.
But, it spoke.
Even though it lacked the lips and tongue to do so.
Its teeth were already gone, so only its voice box was used. That organ wasn’t left for any reason. Simply put, it was not worth removing.
Cutting open the trachea to remove it was too risky a procedure. Pouring acid down its throat to destroy the vocal cords would kill the material. This was confirmed with the other materials. The knowledge gleaned from them had been used to keep it alive.
Of course, it had been told that, and had been blamed for that as well.
But, that wasn’t the reason it spoke. It didn’t speak because it had the ability to speak.
It spoke because today’s punishment was not the usual one.
It was dying. It had lost the ability to even sit a long time ago. Its body was held in place by chains instead of muscles. The Grave had used everything they knew to keep it alive, but their options were running out.
“Another failure.” That was what they thought.
So, they decided to try something new. They didn’t expect it to work. At best, it would be a good reference for their next attempt. “We are sorry, but this is your fault.”
They uttered the prayer it was used to hearing. But this time, it could not simply bow its head and listen.
The other materials had been punished for being unable to become a miracle. They were tortured, used, and kept alive. But, the sins of their failure were extracted from the failures themselves. That was the common variable among all of them.
“You cannot pay for your failure, so we must take them from something else.”
“pweeaze... sthuuup...”
So, for the last one, they had its families pay for its sins.
It no longer remembered its parents’ faces. It no longer remembered if it was married or not. But it remembered that it had a family. So it believed that that the people in front of it were part of that. The women were said to be its mother, sisters, and wives. The men were fathers, brothers, and husbands. They were its precious people, and the precious people of all the other failures. They were the ones it had suffered for, and the ones the others had suffered for.
It didn’t matter if they were unrelated by blood. As the last survivor of the Grave’s experiment, it had taken on the burdens of all the others before it. So, all the people in front of it were important and it instinctively cared for them, as if they were its own.
And the Grave would make them pay the price for its miracle.
Some were torn apart.
Others became materials for other experiments.
The prettier ones were held down and used until their eyes became blank and vacant.
And all ll it could do was watch.
This was all its fault.
Because it couldn’t become a miracle this happened.
All it thought was what it had been told. That was all it could think. That was all it was allowed to think. Self-loathing was the only emotion that remained inside it. It existed only to loathe itself. That became its meaning, its purpose, and its reason to live. By hating itself it could live, and by living it couldn’t stand itself.
‘Life is suffering.’ The Buddha once said that. Then, it was the most alive being in the world.
Its soul became focused around a single emotion, a single effect.
And finally, a miracle was born.
A miracle that loathed itself. A miracle that couldn’t stand its own existence, but could not allow itself to die.
“Tch, another failure.”
It remembered a blond haired girl click her tongue before it. Right at the moment of its birth, it saw her standing there among the blackening remains of the researchers and families.
“Oh well. I guess it’s impossible to create a success from a failure. A miracle created from the concept of failure would of course be a failure even if it succeeded.”
Muttering to herself, the girl stood barefoot in the green ooze covering everything in the room. A putrid slime of self-destructive hatred that leaked from its broken flesh.
“Well, we were planning to recycle you anyways.” The girl speaks to it for the first time. Her ice blue eyes glare at it irritably. ”I’ll find a use for you somehow, even if you are a failure.”
The wall behind her ripples and numerous eyes open behind her.
“Until then...” She smirks.
“Nighty night.”
...
...
...
The bandaged grave member looks back at the blond girl before it. She hasn’t changed a bit from the day of its birth. It doesn’t know how long ago that was.
An hour?
A day?
Years?
It doesn’t know, and it doesn’t care. It became a miracle. It managed to change itself. The promise it had made one-sidedly with the other materials was kept.
So...
It would spread its miracle to the world as was promised, and bring about a new world.
Where such miracles were used by everyone.
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Check out my fanfic Corpse Party: Blood Drive Aftermath.
I can also translate from Japanese to English. Open to requests.
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