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October Spooks

Raesins

Good people are few and far between, cherish them.
Staff member

Camp.png

October is here! This is the month of tricks and treats, that is right it is time to grab you pillow case and get yourself some candy from some strangers. Nothing wrong with a showing up at peoples doors and demanding candy... Anyway this is my favorite month, or rather it is the month of my favorite holiday. Halloween the greatest holiday to ever grace us, and no I'm not addicted to candy. Its all about the spooks! So lets dust off out closet skeletons and get right into this.

All the rules and guidelines can be found in the rules thread.
This is a spooky story telling challenge, all who participate will receive a badge.
At the end of the month we will put all the stories in a poll and the winner will receive a special badge.
If you have any questions, please PM a staff member or post in the questions thread
Try not to get to scared~

Some of you may have sat around the campfire at night with people you may or may not know roasting things on that open fire. As the cold night closed in around you and you sat in you island of warmth and light one of you chimes in and says lets tell scary stories. You get your usually scary stories of creatures of the night, stories built to scare you as they seem all to like what is currently happening around you. So that brings us to this prompt.

The idea of this prompt is to tell a campfire story, but instead of it just being any ol campfire story that have been repeated for centuries it is going to have to be original. Yes! I want you to create your own monster and story. It can take inspiration from already existing monsters and stories, but I want it to be fairly original. So keep an eye on your marshmallow to make sure it doesn't get burnt, and lets get into the spooks!​
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@Member
 
Vampyr

In the shadows does he wait
the one with eyes of crimson red
to be sure, your never late
else the beast becomes well-fed
it hungers now, forevermore
the darkness grows consuming all
Lost alone aching, sore
hold to light, lest you fall
In the darkness does he wait
the one with eyes of crimson red

Fangs of blood dripping slowly
Crimson Red spreading, pooling
Filling all, with most unholy
In the darkness Secrets Ruling
Fetid smells of deaths embrace
Turns the eyes of crimson red
Searching out the pained disgrace
Filling all, a sense of dread
In the shadows does he wait
the one with eyes of crimson red

Ripping tearing, pains apart
the silence of hearts, don't beat
the smell of death does reassert
the undone world is incomplete
Thus the one with eyes of red
does take from you the life of blood
he does feed well when foes are bled
then hit the ground with not a thud.
In the Darkness does he wait
The one with eyes of Crimson Red.

~the lost Dae

((hope this works for a poem of unnerving :p))
 
"Your grandfather loved this spot. Under the stars, right in the middle of the Rocky Mountains. You know he was one of the best rock climbers in his day, climbed almost every mountain that he could set foot on. Back in 2000 he even went up Mount Everest.

You know Mount Everest Timmy, they went over it in school.

Your grandfather spent most of his life enjoying the time that he had. He wasn't the kind of person to put off what he loved for something else. He wrestled bears and sang folk songs to the sheepherders. He was a lover, met a fair few lasses among the hills.”

The fireplace before them flickered in and out before resuming it’s bright light.

“Back in the day your grandfather was famous for the meals that he made at the fireside. Restaurants asked for his secret and the only thing he could tell them was it’s the taste of the wilderness. They laughed at him, but they didn’t know that the real world was so much different than the world that they built around themselves. It was different than touch-screens and door knobs and stuck up patrons at fancy hotels. The animals of the wild knew. Bears that roamed the woods knew, raccoons that were forced to dig through human waste knew, birds that flew into windows knew.

No Timmy we aren’t going to spend the energy to simulate a bear. We don’t have that much extra stored up.

I met your mother on one of the trips into the woods, my camping group was a bunch of idiots and got themselves washed down the river-

Okay Emmy I won’t rehash it. I know I’ve told you just about a dozen times.

Your mother is an amazing woman. She was the bravest person that I had ever seen. She is still out there, making sure that we’re safe.”

The fire and stars that shone down above them went out, pitch darkness flooding the three humans. There was a small cuss from the man, who stumbled through the darkness to flip a switch on and off a few times before searching the darkness for the two children and bringing them into a gentle hug. The smell of dirt and metal refilled their noses, and the soft rumbling of the world above them shook their home. The children shook more than the home did, and the father pressed a soft kiss onto each of their heads.

The hologram flickered in and out as the raid continued it’s bombing, the serene woods and whistling cliffside coming in and out of existence.

Once upon a time there had been a programmer who went on a camping trip. His friends were washed down a river and were saved by a mountain man. He fell in love with the man’s daughter and brought her back to the city after visiting her in the woods every weekend for a year.

Once upon a time a man and woman were married and had two beautiful children, a year apart. A little boy named Timothy Ash Borlend, and a girl named Emily Patricha Borlend. Two children who barely opened their eyes to meet their mother, not even long enough to remember her long brown hair or her smile that could warm even the coldest of hearts.

Once upon a time a man had quit his programming job, and focused his time on building a shelter under the home that they had built on the edge of the wilderness. He spent his days and nights digging out the dirt and putting in the supports to make it safe for his family. He watched the news coverage of the devastation across the ocean, the horror pictures of the survivors walking towards the reporters as something that could barely be classified as human. Skeletons, dripping with their own burnt and oozing flesh that was being torn apart bit by bit with the flood of radiation.

Once upon a time a strong woman picked up arms and joined the military, leaving her infant and toddler in the care of a programmer. She kissed them all goodbye, retold the man how much food would last for how long down and away from the world. How there wasn’t enough time to make his own canned goods, and that he needed to stock up now with what could be bought. She told them that she loved him, and her waving as they left the military base was the last they saw of her.

Once upon a time a man, his two children, and the photograph of his wife, sat in a shelter with only enough food for them to last another four months. They sat cowered in a corner, waiting for either the bombs to stop or the lights to come back on.

Remember the real monsters are human.
 
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