×

Diary of a Serial Killer - Entry 4April 21st, 2013

Sorry I haven't written... I have been extremely depressed because... well, I've been trying to take care of the cats. They're clean now, and I'm gradually feeding them, but of course they're not going to show much improvement over four days. But... the pregnant mama died three days ago... and I've been sobbing like mad. I took the poor thing's body to a vet to check if we could save the babies but... they had apparently been dead for a few weeks before mama died, which may have been a contributing cause. I told the veteranarian about rescuing all the cats and asked for advice. He said to just keep up with what I'm doing an

ChristmasClose your eyes little one, don't be afraid. There are no monsters under your bed; there is no Santa stalking you. They do not exist. Here, tonight, on this Christmas day, just lay down and sleep. Let no nightmares plague your mind for the world is yours.
What a sweet child you are and how innocent your dreams are. Dreams of candy cane houses and a jolly fat man with presents. To imagine that those very houses will rot your heart. To imagine that he would commit such atrocities upon your pale skin.
Oh how much you have grown since that Christmas day. Your smile made of ashes, your hair of rags and your eyes of death. It's such a pity you have lost your subtle glow, such a pity you've lost your sweet voice. I'm afraid this day will be your last.

Missing Tonight, the park is full of people. Concerned volunteers, police searchers, and worried family members convened together, all with the same purpose.

A child has gone missing.

A brown-haired little girl, wearing a blue checkered dress and a cheap bracelet with heart-shaped charms.

It has been twelve hours.

The police have little hope for her survival.

The volunteers are serving soup to the weary searchers who have been looking for her nonstop since she was first reported missing. There is a big campfire in the park, courtesy of a kind stranger. The searchers sit around the fire, savouring the warmth of the blaze and the soup. They

TransmutationA naked woman wearing a helmet with golden wings in the shape of a V draws the sign of Mercury onto the striped floor. The slanted glass roof resonates in the drizzle.

Lucid swirling colour is drunk from fine wine glasses raised while lying in a torn toga upon the divan in the entrance hall of the factory. One of the ladies sews two tails on a fox and wraps it in paper.

The blue cog is replaced by a red one and greased with fresh liquid extracted from the trees. The white-veiled ones inject a remedy that leaves gold marks.

Eyeless wooden masks float in a heap underneath the acacias in the water-covered courtyard. The windows act as sewers,

I've been feeling insane in between my eyesVaguely he wondered as the blood flaked off his fingers and stuck to the tape as he closed the package, if someone would notice, if someone would finally catch onto him. It didn't matter to him. It was just kind of like "oh well, fun while it lasted" and he'd go to his end un-remorseful. And the way he walked around, cocky like he didn't have anything to hide, that probably helped. In fact he was leaving the apartment, the occupants having been dealt with and left in bed, package tucked neatly beneath his arm.

Rafe wondered if Jo was still fond of his presents. Not that it mattered if she wasn't. She was his anchor whether she wanted to be o

Jeff the Killer vs Tera the Irken chpt. 1 I had crash landed on Earth around the age of six. I was on a run from the law, a rebel. Lucky for me I had found a family who would willingly take me in for the next 7 years. But there was something strange about that night, I swear I had seen a faceless, white skinned man, standing there watching me.
Here I was 7 years later, going to an Earth school, bored out of my mind, trying to fit in with the normal humans. I did good stayed on the edges never had very many friends. All for their own protection of course, I don’t think anyone would want to be friends with an irken rebel named Tera. I had changed my name to fit in here.

Get OutIt started at dinner. The sound of a door creaking, opening or closing I know not.

We heated six small frozen lasagnas, a bowl of assorted vegetables and another bowl of various fruit added to our pre-made main course. Strong raspberry lemonade, but diluted with water, as our drink.

Turning my attention to the food before me, I would hear it. The creaking. I would turn and strain to locate its source. The sound stopped.

Eat and the creaking would continue. Stop eating and stare at the nearby door. No sound. Resume consuming the heated pre-made lasagna, which was not bad. Repeat. This occurred through the entire meal until dessert.

I thoug

HemoplagueViolet stepped away from the cave, feeling her job was well done. She heard groaning from inside, and panic sprouted in her mind. Had someone been in there? She walked back, seeing someone that wasn't familiar, but wasn't foreign either. He was turned away from her, on the ground, muttering something just barely audible from where she was standing.
"I will kill whoever did this... I swear on it," Vlad murmured, an anger in his voice that was beyond terrifying, "My home... destroyed. I will punish whoever did this to my home."
Violet turned away, terror in her eyes, she stepped away lightly, trying to be as quiet as possible. She knocked agai

Wordspill: HolidayHoliday

Spill:

His heart was still pounding from the altercation he had that morning. He hated confrontation. But he had to do do his best to get the holiday lsot. Not susually a problem

It wasn’t usually a problem. No one wanted to work on the holiday but the new guy seemed desperate for extra hours. It was annoying. He’d pressured him for a good ten minutes until he’d had to give in. He didn’t wat to make a scene.

All day he brooded over the lost work. It wasn’t the pay for him. The overtime was nothing to him, but the access, the being at the crematorium was supremely important. It was his routine his sche

Ventin'ALRIGHT,SO.

My mom told me I'm going back to PUBLIC SCHOOL next year.

AND THAT SAME ONE TOO.

She asked us if we were excited.I moaned and said yeah.That's why I laid down and took a nap. Cause I wasn't really feeling too good about it.

I wonder what would happen,

if they found out about me right now.

About the following:

Insomnia,Split personality disorder(I think this is what they call it lD If not then mood swings.),thoughts about cutting,thoughts about suicide lately,a little bit of amnesia,depression,

There is two other things that I really do not want to talk about.

And what if they know about my art...

What would they say???Th

HOW ADORABLY PATHETICIf someone is reading this, please I beg of you send this to the police, I need to be rescued.

It all started over two months ago, I just bought our new house in Georgia with my wife., Cecilia who was three months pregnant.

My wife had a reunion so she was going to be out all day, I was just sitting home, browsing the internet, I went to check if I had any e-mails and… that’s when it started, I had received a Scratch game from an anonymous source, the file had no name, I mean, it was named ‘name file’, and it didn’t say anything, whoever send me this didn’t write anything, that person had just send me th

Jeff the Killer vs Tera the Irken chpt. 2When I woke up in the morning, I was much more tired than I should have been. I had to think for what the human word for it, was it fatigue? Yes I was feeling fatigued because I had stayed up all night waiting for the two monsters without a face and one more scared than the Joker to come and get me, to tie me up in his tentacles and to stab me with the glinting steel of Jeff’s blade. It never came and not a sound was made that night. I was truly terrified, more of Jeff and any other creature that could come get me, so I faked being sick and stayed home with my Mom instead of going to school. I spent the whole day holed up in my roo

Blood the Game John clawed his way through the blasted door, his sight obscured by the dust that had stuck in Tez’s blood that smeared his face. Slumping to the floor, he wiped his vision clear with a piece of his pack and surveyed his surroundings.
An ancient stone vault, dusty and dim, lit by a single black candle that drew reflections from the exquisite etchings in the steel coffin and the dark sheen of the Desert Eagle in his hands.
“Greetings, John. A stimulating journey, I trust?” A calm voice from the darkness.
“Bastard” a wrenching sob punctuated the word.
“I take it that your little force came to a stic

Desolate Times A messenger of death flies, which ruined a supposed paradise. The beast erases the light in her eyes, infusing within an insatiable fear. She ran from its corpulent rotting body, “a beautiful suburb spoilt”. The dark, dark despair change the way these children go about life entirely. Young boys screaming from nightmares, a monstrous creature that gives substance to their fantasies. They felt abandoned, stereotyped from everyone else. A fiend, society, watches over bad children who were being punished, giving no allowance to correct any mistakes made. This segregation ultimately meant the deportation of the girls and boys, isolating them in unknown territory; savage, rough and wild.
Creepers howl and scream when darkness falls, blurring the boundary between real and imaginary. There is no definite answer, just a web of hypotheses. The very tone suggests misconceptions and ex

Browse More Like This

More from =tonepainter

View Gallery · View Prints

Featured in Groups

×

Mature Content Filter is On
(Contains: violence/gore)

=tonepainter has limited the viewing of this artwork
to members of the deviantART community only.

You can log in or become a member for FREE!

172

3 26 1

Points on a Compassby =tonepainter

Favourite

Description Details Share

fourteenth Flash Fiction Month (FFM) prompt

All trademarks are the property of their respective owners.

Easter Eggs

Details

Stats

Submitted on: July 19, 2012
File Size: 3.4 KB
Mature Content: Yes

Views: 172
Favourites: 3 (who?)
Comments: 26
Downloads: 1

*xlntwtch Mar 31, 2013 Writer

This is ... it leaves me almost speechless.
I think you coast dead-on (pun intended) into Patrick's mind, not to mention the concept of time and direction. The reverse volcano is a terrific hint at what's to come. I won't write much more due to *spoilers* but I wish I could fav it more than once. Thank you.

Reply

=tonepainter Mar 31, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

Wow, comments like this are just wonderful to get! Thanks, I really appreciate it

Reply

*xlntwtch Mar 31, 2013 Writer

You're very welcome

Reply

*glossolalias Mar 28, 2013

Featured: [link]

Reply

=tonepainter Mar 30, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

Thanks!

Reply

*glossolalias Mar 27, 2013

i love how this leaves more questions than it answers. great work.

Reply

=tonepainter Mar 27, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

Thanks... I really appreciate it.

Reply

`FuzzyHoser Aug 22, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Jeez, what some writing, man.. I don't normally sit through prose because normally the story isn't fresh or demented enough for me, haha. But yeah, this is good. This is interesting.

Reply

=tonepainter Aug 22, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Thanks very much, this means a lot to me.

If you like demented, feel free to make yourself at home with any of my stories. Demented is where they live....

Reply

`FuzzyHoser Aug 22, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

I keep meaning to make a good go at your gallery. I'm just generally at work when I sit down for long at a computer. *sigh* But soon, very soon, I shall find me some keepers amongst your dementations. <--by the by, I make up words often.

Oh, and you're welcome!

Reply

Previous
1
2
3
Next