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Messages - BlackDragonSlayer

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Story Telling / Re: BlackDragonSlayer's Short Stories
« on: October 18, 2019, 05:36:34 AM »
Halloween Horror Special 2019 part 2
The Orange Bleeder

     She walked toward the house, filled with a vague sense of dread, mixed in with irritation and a tad of embarrassment. Why had she let herself be talked into this? It was simply ridiculous, that’s all. A waste of her day on a silly urban legend. She knew she had a reputation for seeming weak and cowardly, and she wanted to appear tough by taking on the dare. All her so-called friends had done it—though she wasn’t quite sure if she believed any of them, that didn’t change the fact that she felt obligated to do it herself. After all, it wasn’t really that bad, was it? All she had to do was go in the stupid house, walk around a bit, and maybe take a picture or two—she had brought her camera for just that purpose. She wasn’t going to stay the night there, at least. Now that would be weird. And genuinely creepy. Though she had heard stories of people spending the night there, they were inevitably followed with the stock phrase “and they were never seen again.” Sometimes local disappearances were attributed by the youth community (and, truth be told, some of the more superstitious elders) to the ominous house.

    Nobody knew when the old house had been built, but everyone seemed to remember it always being there. Nobody knew who owned the land, and nobody bothered to check. Everyone simply seemed to accept the house as a permanent fixture, meant to be left abandoned and untouched, aside from the occasional thrill-seeker hoping to look tough to their friends. The architecture of the house, although strangely elegant despite years of dilapidation, was of an unplaceable time period. Originally, the house had been in the middle of the forest, with iron and brick fencing all around it, but as the town expanded, the residential areas moved closer and closer to the house, until now the house lay roughly at the end of a quiet street in a poor area of town, only a handful of trees scattered around to hint at the landscape that once surrounded the house. The lock on the gate was long broken, and nobody ever bothered chaining up the fence, but mostly because nobody with a good head on their shoulders ever went there. There had once been a proposal to knock the house down, but that slowly and quietly fizzled out for reasons unknown; nobody ever remembered anyone who opposed the proposal, but then again, nobody knew anyone who really cared enough to support it either.

    She didn’t really know what the inside of the house was like, although she had seen the exterior from a distance a couple times and knew it was a grand mansion. Now, the house wasn’t simply said to be haunted; no, it was said to host a very particular kind of spirit. It was known simply as the Orange Bleeder, no other names. It was called that because it was said to bleed orange blood from its eyes, ears, and mouth. Some people described it as a vampire. Some as a demonic entity. Some people thought it was the spirit of the owner of the house who died from a mysterious plague. It was said to be able to run twice as fast as any person and leap down a flight of stairs in a single bound. If it reached you, it would kill you… but of course, none of this was really true, was it? She didn’t believe in spirits, demons, or vampires. It was just a creepy old house, probably infested with rats and bugs, which was enough to be afraid of in her book.

    Finally, she reached the end of the street and saw the house looming in the distance. There was a wide gravel driveway leading to the house. A couple of cars were parked in it close to the road. She wandered past them and up to the gate. Vines and bushes sprung out from behind the wall and wrapped around the fencing, hanging down in a wild disorder. The metal parts of the fencing had bits of rust clinging to them; the gate, although rusted, was free of vines. The brick part of the fence had a few stray vines hanging down here and there, but was mostly uncovered, revealing bits of graffiti that had been added over the years. Behind the gate was a spotty dirt path with overgrown clumps of grass encroaching in. Hesitantly, she moved the creaking gate into an open position, and slid inside. The gate creaked back to its old position, as if it somehow had a will to remain shut; as if it invited the one who just entered to stay a while, and perhaps become a part of the grounds. The yard was almost a forest itself, featuring overgrown grass, enormous trees, and bushes that had perhaps not been trimmed in over a hundred years. A crow was nesting on a high-up branch. Slowly, she wandered up to the front door of the house. There were two large, imposing doors made of dark wood, with faded brass door handles. She tentatively put her hand on the right door handle. It seemed very firm for its age. She turned the handle and opened the door.

    She took in the sights of the house that lay before her as she entered. The first room inside was a large, open foyer, richly decorated, but dulled by many layers of dust and dirt. The walls were red with accents of gold. A tattered carpet covered much of the floor, and the wood was cracked and showed signs of water damage. There were a few plush chairs, also red, on either side, and some small tables between these. The ceiling was not low, but not extremely high either. She continued into the room, and the front door slowly creaked shut behind her. The foyer led into a wide hallway, mostly wood, with a long red runner across most of the length of the hall. There were several dressing tables and hutches scattered along the room. On the left side was a grand staircase leading to the second floor of the house, and on the ride was an open door leading into the dining room. She decided to explore the dining room first. The wall-to-wall carpet was a dark green, albeit faded with time, and the walls were blue. Short hutches lined the walls. Most of the chairs had been knocked over and were scattered around the room, displaying various levels of damage and decay, although there were two or three still standing. The windows on the right side of the room were covered with damaged and torn curtains through which little bits of light peeked through. She crossed the dining room to get to the door on the other side. When she opened that door, she saw the kitchen—which was an absolute mess. From what she saw, cabinets and plates had been smashed around and now littered the floor. She didn’t want to even try to go through the minefield of glass and wood. She slowly backed out and back into the dining room. She snapped a few pictures of the room before she exited back out into the hallway.

    She considered leaving then and there, but now that she was already here, a strange curiosity drove her to continue exploring the house. She felt compelled to walk up the grand staircase and see what lay on the upper floor. She went up the staircase, pausing only on the landing to appreciate a damaged painting that adorned the wall. It was a picture of a man, but most of the painting across his face had been ripped. When she got to the top of the staircase and turned the corner, she saw that the room opened into another hall, wide but not nearly as wide as the one downstairs. On either side of the hallway were doors, presumably leading into bedrooms. At the end of the hall, the hall turned to the right and continued onward. Like many of the other rooms, a red carpet was laid out across the length of the room. She decided to go through the rooms one by one, starting with the first door on the right.

    The room, as predicted, was a medium-sized bedroom. There were a few armoires and tables in the room, and a small, luxurious bed. Strangely enough, nothing—from the curtains, to the carpet, bed, or tables—seemed to be damaged or covered in any dust… everything felt strangely… pristine. She snapped several pictures. She sat down on the bed briefly. It felt so soft, like she could just lay down and take a long rest… She suddenly felt wrong being in the room. She got up and quickly left. She continued down the hallway to the next room. She had her hand on the door handle when she looked up and to the end of the hallway, and saw a figure standing there. It was tall, thin, and simply horrible. It had long, matted hair, tattered clothing that showed a faint semblance of once being fine clothes. Its eyes were pure white, and its mouth hung open. An orange fluid dripped steadily from both. Rows of sharpened teeth were barely visible poking out past its lips. She slowly began to back away toward the stairs. The figure looked up and straight at her. It let out a horrible hiss, and began running at her! She turned and began to run. To her horror, where the stairs had once been now led into another long hallway. She wondered if she had somehow been turned around, but she didn’t have much time to ponder about it; she simply kept running. As she darted around the corner, she took a quick look back. Whatever it was that was chasing her was gaining on her.

     After a few more twists and turns—which seemed to make the house way larger than it ever should have been—she finally found the stairs. She ran down as fast as possible, almost falling down several times. As she went down, she saw the monster at the top of the stairs. It saw her running down, and it flew after her, bounding down each flight of stairs in a single leap. It was so close to her now. She could hear it gasping and hissing. She could see it, orange blood now gushing from its eyes, ears, and mouth, quickly drenching its pale, warped face. It reached out to grab her, and barely missed. She ran down the hall leading to the foyer—she was so close now! She sprinted as fast as she could, almost out of breath. She reached the turn, and saw… OH GOD, another hallway! She had no time to stop and think, just keep running, and running, and running. She knew she couldn’t slow down, it was faster than her and kept getting closer; she just had to keep running! She swore she saw a set of doors at the end of this hallway. She reached the end, and put her hand on the door, and struggled to fling it open. She opened it, just barely, just barely…! She saw light! She was almost free! Almost free, almost free!

     She screamed those words as it dragged her down an endless hallway. Of course, nobody else would ever know that. Nobody really ever knew what happened to Liza Chambers. Her parents and the police would claim that she ran away from home, maybe met a bad fate somewhere along the way. She always tried to keep up a facade of normalcy, but people really knew that she struggled with her life. Her parents were always fighting, her younger siblings hated her, and she could never quite seem to fit in at school. A perfect recipe for a runaway. At school, the rumor spread that she went into the abandoned mansion by herself. The part about the dare was conveniently lost in translation, erasing any possible idea of blame on anybody else. Her classmates would thus claim she disappeared because she went into the abandoned house at the end of an unassuming street, yet another victim of the house of the Orange Bleeder.


10/6/19 Decembiture (n.)- the time of taking to decorating one's house because of Christmas

Story Telling / Re: BlackDragonSlayer's Short Stories
« on: October 03, 2019, 08:42:30 PM »
Halloween Horror Special 2019 part 1
Because I Love You

    Before I met you, I was a different person, with a different life; a sad person with a sad life. I had no one to turn to, no friends nor family. The former were nonexistent and the latter were never there for me… if not physically absent, then they were always emotionally distant. I was alone, truly alone. My days were spent in horrific loneliness, present in the world but utterly, hopelessly ignored, and my nights in solemn, silent sadness. I think everyday about the life I had before and how I am glad to have met you. Without you I would have been stuck in a miserable life that’s draining on the soul almost beyond what words can express. I was caught in the bowels of depression and had little hope left in life; I fell headfirst into college life not knowing what I was doing; just thought I went there to escape the life at home I knew I couldn’t bear to be around any longer, thought one day I’d wake up screaming left with nothing else to do. Couldn’t dream things would change because all my dreams were nightmares.

    The day I met you, I did not nor could have ever expected that my life would have been so changed in such a short time. We sat next to each other in our first class of sophomore year, and we just kind of stayed there. You weren’t repelled like so many others before seemed to be. There could have been a world where we decided to never speak, but we did, whether through chance, will, or fate. Though, the truth was, it was not that day when my life changed; it would be a while before I truly fell in love you with and my life changed. At first I thought you were just another person like anyone else, but as we got to know each other I saw your inner light and kindness, and realized you were more than just a special person. You glowed and shared your light with all the world around you through your kindness and your empathy. When no one else was there to lend an ear, you were there with open arms and open heart to offer love that no one else could ever seem to spare. Without you I don’t know if things would ever have been looking up; went from a downhill drop to a scenic road, looking forward to every stop where I could take a look at all the things around me with the person I cared about the most. How could I have ever dreamed I would have ever gotten to this point in my life?

    Our love blossomed and grew the more we got to know each other. You saw me for the person I really was inside; you inspired me more and more to be the best person I could possible be. You were there for me when I needed someone to talk to, as was I there for you. We became each other’s closest friend, a person we could truly rely on above all others. We spared every last minute we could to be with one another; we melded our interests whenever possible to find more excuses to be around each other… in fact, we were each other’s greatest interest. A love others said was impossible, it persevered, and grew, and grew. When others proclaimed their love stories to be the greatest, over the years, theirs fell apart while ours stayed true, our humble, quiet kind of love. It lasted through times good and bad, hardened by fire we only got closer.

     We lasted through college, and the terrible waters of adult life afterward, that time when people say you’re supposed to be ready for anything, but truly you’re prepared for nothing. That time when you’re just supposed to jump into life, what all your life has claimed to prepare you for, but no one’s ever really ready. But we were there for each other; we figured things out, slowly but surely, together. We began to forge our lives together: we found work—not the best of careers, but something that was a half-decent start; we found a place to live—a place to raise a family; and we found a purpose—a meaning to our lives that was more than just ourselves. Slowly, we persevered. We always said we would wait to make a family until the point we could see that we were truly on solid ground, and the years passed and nothing changed, but we didn't lose hope. Then one day suddenly things seemed like they had finally changed.

     We knew that was the time of our lives when everything was finally falling into place, like an orchestra, at first a little rusty but slowly finding their rhythm, getting everything ready for their grand symphony performance. It was time to make a family. But it never happened. The universe could not allow our perfect love--it was but an anomaly that would all too quickly be squashed and corrected by the ever-turning cogs of nature, harsh and cruel, cold and merciless. While we lived together, while we loved together, it seemed nothing could go wrong. But now you are dead, and as I mourn you, I look back on all the time we had together and I know what I must do. When you are buried in the ground, I must join you, unbeknownst to all around. As we lived together we must depart from this world together, with me by your side in one shared grave. Because I love you.


Off-Topic / Re: The Post Your Thoughts of the Moment Thread 2
« on: September 30, 2019, 12:53:49 AM »
on today's episode of "noc says the darndest things"

Request / Re: [Arcade] Libble Rabble - "Main Theme"
« on: September 12, 2019, 06:38:22 AM »
Please don't post a massive amount of text at once that's not in a spoiler tag, especially an entire movie script.

Site News / Re: Update, Saturday 31st of August 2019 (4000 sheets!!)
« on: August 31, 2019, 06:45:09 AM »
HYPE. At the pace we're going, I'm looking forward to see how long it is before we get to 5000! There's still plenty more out there to be arranged!

8/12/19 Aeiou (n.)- John Madden John Madden John Madden John Madden football

8/8/19 Lizard (n.)- using a mask for disguise or secretly ruling the world

Off-Topic / Re: The Post Your Thoughts of the Moment Thread 2
« on: August 07, 2019, 10:34:21 PM »
This summer has gone by too fast. And I hardly did anything of consequence :///
Every one of my summers forever:

Me at the beginning of summer: I'm gonna do something productive!

Me at the end of summer: i did nothing productive lol

Site News / Re: Update, Tuesday 6th of August 2019
« on: August 06, 2019, 04:12:35 AM »
Brainy, blink three times if Epic Games is holding your family hostage.

The Werewolf Game / Re: TWG CXIII Postgame
« on: July 28, 2019, 06:24:26 AM »
I'll make a phase-by-phase summary and some short analysis sometime tomorrow

I didn't have time to keep up with the game, but SHY WON?! Way to go!!!
No, Shy was a human, Shy lost.

Off-Topic / Re: The Post Your Thoughts of the Moment Thread 2
« on: July 26, 2019, 01:43:36 AM »

The Werewolf Game / Re: TWG CXIII Postgame
« on: July 25, 2019, 10:15:31 PM »
Well that was a dumpster fire.

Off-Topic / Re: The Post Your Thoughts of the Moment Thread 2
« on: July 25, 2019, 02:36:31 AM »
Yeah, most people write "a" completely differently.

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