what is this place….?
what is this place….?
“The unfed mind devours itself.”
- Gore Vidal (October 3, 1925 – July 31, 2012)
A dych I participated in. The character on the right is drawn by @/iamfalu on insragram, the one on the left is mine.
The Excitement - Your nightmares come be true...
Sometimes its a little funny
A man with an insane paraphernalia. (Short Story)
you stupid fucking cunt, keep your mouth shut. if you just stopped talking, things would be better both online & IRL. but no, you keep on doing it while making yourself look like an awkward, idiotic douchebag. i fucking despise you.
(Click for better quality!)
Chapter 1 - If Needs Must
This was a story I began back in April, but as it goes life got in the way throwing countless hoops for me to jump through. At last I have returned to it, wanting to see it through, so here is a series for Bela Dimitrescu, the name of the doctor will soon be revealed!
Making her way through the thicket was excruciatingly painful; with every twist of her torso, the skin around the gash stretched. More crimson blood flowed, seeping into an already saturated dress now torn by the hunters that continued to make chase. She was in no fit state to turn into her swarm, leaving her no choice but to continue on foot. Bela couldn't help but scold herself for her reckless endeavours, something she commonly observed and warned against in regard to her younger sisters. Oh, how Daniela would taunt her for sinking to her level.
The blonde thought of newly circulating rumours, tales of a new resident in the village, a woman no less but a doctor of medicine all the same. It was said she lived on the outskirts, and with little choice, Bela chose to listen to her body over the whispers of her mind, impulsively and repetitively goading her to succumb to her desires, to dry the hunter's bodies dry in an effort to quench her never-ending thirst.
Stumbling over roots at the edge of the forest revealed a house as the story told, a light of a candle still flickering in the window. Through the sole pane of glass, she could pick apart the shadows that were cast upon walls, including that of the young woman she sought. With care and consideration long forgotten, Bela left the safety and cover of the trees. Hurried steps echoed in the silence as her footfalls crushed leaves beneath on the floor of the autumn night. The blonde's breath came in huffs, visible as the evenings chill set in as pain shot through her side.
Angry calls of hunters could be heard in the distance, and without much of a second thought, Bela barged into the house. The blonde swung the door open with such force it was nearly ripped from its hinges. Warping forward with inhuman speed, the medic became ensnared in a threatening embrace, her neck at the mercy of the deadly sickle the blonde wielded with confidence. Unsurprisingly the woman was stunned upon the intrusion, having flinched in Bela's ever-tightening hold as the beaker she once held shattered into fragments on the floor. She felt pride in the fear she could instil, listening closely as the woman's heart rate steadily climbed, skipping a beat every so often in its haste to function.
"Quiet," the harsh rasp of her voice rang close to the ear of the medic. The threat behind was apparent but emboldened the raven-haired woman to act on her own accord. Taking her unencumbered hand, she brought her fingertips to graze the metallic blade of the sickle. Applying pressure, she guided the weapon away from the fragile skin hiding critical arteries and veins, and Bela allowed her to do so, having been caught off guard by an action that could have seen the human dead.
This doctor was sharp, potentially more so than the alloyed blade Bela now sheathed. Sidestepping the shards, she extinguished the candle and pulled the curtains, well aware such oddities this late on would attract those who continued to roam the forests, evidently in search of the mysterious woman now in her home. Bela never once let her gaze flit, unwavering it remained fixated on this peculiar doctor. With her curiosity peaked and determined to thwart any plans of escape, the blonde followed the other into the adjoining room.
On a shelf lay jars of all shapes and sizes; within each was liquids and materials possessing medical properties, all meticulously labelled in fluid penmanship. Bela's sharp eyes widened, marginally impressed by an organisation rivalling that of her own in the castle. In all this time, she had failed to notice what the doctor was collecting; within calloused hands now lay equipment for sutures, a bottle of transparent fluid and pristine cloths. The blonde's piercing gaze narrowed, unsure of how she knew what was required.
Taking a single step forward, the medic kept her own line of sight fixated on the injury site. Bela only then realised as she scrutinised the human who had yet to utter a word that her blood had left a trail and even sullied the once clean nightdress of the human. Smart was the one word the blonde conjured to describe her unusual company; her perceptiveness and silence made her more tolerable than most of her kind.
Lifting her dress, or the remnants of such a garment, brought forth a hiss through clenched teeth. A hand gently came to lay upon her should, halting the movement succinctly. The dress could not be salvaged in its state, preferring to minimise pain, the human grappled for a blade just out of reach. Once in her grasp, she looked imploringly upward seeking permission, that she obtained with a single terse nod. Cutting a section of fabric was simple; peeling it away was not; a hand flew into ebony locks, gripping strands with a hold so tight the human was forced to bite her lips to withhold a gasp. The grip only grew tighter with the disinfectant cleaning the laceration, preventing the onset of infection. However, those fingers and nails retracted as the final series of stitches were sown.
Calls and taunts grew even louder even in the dimly lit backroom, sparking Bela's consciousness into overdrive. Her once focused gaze snapped upward, breaking the trance the doctor had somehow cast upon her. With hurried footsteps, she reached the door within a split second, only pausing when her previous captive spoke, "they'll need removing in a fortnight."
A single toothy grin was thrown back before she disappeared into the night. The silence only broken by menacing cackles and blood-curling screams into the late hours.
So, you're trying to kill me?
Written by: Modernscorpio
Theme song: blood right by Madame Macabre
Warning: scenes are containing gore, doppelganger and blood. Read at your own risk.
Its story is based on my personal experience.
After reading some horror story, i started to dance in front of my whole body mirror. I danced for around 1... 2... 5 minutes.
Literally, dancing makes me happy. Even if tragedy passed onto me, i never stopped myself from dancing.
Dancing and smiling, also my reflection goes to the flow. Dancing and smiling.
However, my dancing range began from five minutes to 6... 7... 8... 13 minutes. As i finished myself from dancing. I literally raised an eyebrow on my reflection.
Why doesn't it stop like how i stop?
As i watched my reflection still dancing, shivers are already down on my spine. The hairs on my skin rises as i watched my reflection still... Didn't stop dancing.
Worst, there's a knife on her back.
Morning, i woked up. I got tired of watching that damn reflection dancing.
I go to the bathroom. My jaw dropped. It was me. Another me. Staring at the shower.
Shower that contains blood. She's wearing a nightgown that i wore yesterday night.
I saw the bloody shower. It was my parents, i really can't recognise them due to their damaged face.
Blood are flowing, their gore faces shivers me, and cried as i look at the girl angrily.
"What did you do!" i yelled, smashing a glass and picked a shard and start pointing it to her.
Her innocent face— no! She looks like me! She's a doppelganger of mine!
Is she trying to kill me? Damn, what sin did i commit?
As she walks towards me, i am walking backwards, preventing myself from being stabbed by a knife.
I am now on the wall. There is no way out. She can't even stop even if i opem the door.
"So, you're trying to kill me?" she said. Made my eyes bigger. Grin paints on my face. And laughed as crazy as heck.
"You're the one who's killing them, yet you're asking me if I'm trying to kill you? Are you crazy or what?!" i hissed and threw the shattered glass to her.
Unluckily, she missed it.
"Don't you remember? You killed them because theu didn't give the attention you need, now, who's the crazy one here?" she asked.
I see. I murdered them. They didn't give me the attention i need. They even attempt to kill me.
So i killed them before they kill me.
I saw this doppelganger of mine. Smiling and shocked of what i see.
Blood are flowing from my stomach. And happily accept my death as she hit the hammer on my head, leaving my face unfamiliar like my parents'.
never shave too fast or you're gonna lose a big part of your nail
I will never fall in love again
S2.1 Moin MC's death
"I'm happy to have met you all."
These were her last words before corruption consumes her soul and she lost control of her power. With one determined yet sorrowful look, the young prince plunged the Night Dagger.
“Right to the heart...” (Part 1/3, Sun)
Venting art, trying to mimic coffeecakecafe & the-stove-is-on-fire’s artstyle and “Art Nouveau”
Check their blogs, it’s great
just like her father
MB for my oc mischa lecter