deviant art

Deviant Login
Buy Art Buy adCast Buy Premium Membership
Shop		  Join deviantART for FREE Take the Tour
×
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
The Double Door    The bus crept slowly down the highway. The driver kept his eyes alert for any sign of movement. It was quiet on the bus. Suddenly to the left a figure lurched at the front headlights and started clawing on the hood. "We've got a dead one.", the driver muttered under his breath. He stopped the car but kept it running as he opened the double doors leading to the desolate world known as Earth. the metallic ring of his gun clanked against the change in his pocket. The money had no value anymore, but he liked to keep it in his pocket; it kept him sane. He pulled the gun out and roughly slammed a clip into it, full of bullets. With eyes closed,
ash on your tongueThe tea tastes like ash against her lips, burns the words before they can reach her throat. Gunpowder green. He watches her over the rim of his cup. Milk? Sugar? The usual pleasantries over cups of liquid war. The tea makes its way down my throat, smoky and strong. You watch carefully, your lips curling up slightly.

Do you want some sugar? you ask in a voice not matching that hard glint in your eye. Milk? A hand hovers expectantly over the sugar bowl.

She shrugs, sips, stares. That gunpowder flavor stays on her lips, tattooed onto her tongue. The ash presses against her mouth, burns her throat. She likes it. Gunpowder. It was killing her, a
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
Don't Trust MeSchool was over- the last class had concluded just hours ago, and the weather was rainy and a little windy. Cassandra's long dark hair blew lightly about her face before returning to normal. She was in a good mood thanks to her break. It was like nothing could ruin her happiness now.
The walk home was thankfully short, and a sprinkle of rain drizzled from the pale gray sky. It set on Cassandra's hair with a cool sensation, and Cassandra found herself laughing. She opened her phone, shielding it from the rain with her sleeve, and saw Sean had left her a message.
Cassandra, I'm going out tonight to a meeting because of Edward. I'll be back around ten or eleven so leave my room unlocked.
That Edward! Cassandra thought in amusement. The little thirteen-year-old was known for both his intelligence and stupidity, as well as a notorious record for mischief. Not just stealing candy from the convenience stores, but stealing candy from the convenience stores in fifty-pound p
Alone Together Excerpt 2He had to get out. He had to get out of this place which dripped, creaked while the world screamed. The cage he locked himself in. His shield from the violence outside, and all of its' bloody madness. All he wanted was to smash through the windows, and fly through. To feel the slings and arrows deflect off of the real Melvin Tanner. Not "Mitch". Not the scared little boy. Not the brooding loner or the miserable teen. Not the nihilist in the tower, but the creature begging to know release.

But the ghost stopped him. It reminded him of his inherent lack of superpowers. "YOU CAN'T GO.", it reminded him. "NOT YET. YOU'LL DIE DOWN THERE. STAY WIT
Jeff the Killer vs Tera the irken chpt. 5I sat there letting the information sink in.  “I am going to kill people?”  Slender Man thought about it for a moment and then shook his head side to side a little.
“That all depends on you, if you kill people you kill people, but not all Creepy Pastas kill people.”  I sighed and nodded at Slender.
“Okay, so I am staying here with you guys.”  He nodded and stood up silently walking to the door, he shoved it open and all three boys stumbled back.  Jeff fell and Jack and Ben landed on top of him.
“When I lock the door doesn’t it mean I want a private conversation?!”  The three boys smiled in
The dark cabin was dark gloomi  The dark cabin was dark gloomily creaking - a sleeping logger slept soundly. The logger, a slightly older man with a greying beard. snored heavily with a gaping mouth, a loud sleeper. The cabin door opened slightly - a pair of eyes stared vacantly through the crack between the door and the wall.
 The creature, a dark shadow that was silent, opened the door causing the man to wake up with with a jolt, screaming loudly.
 But he looked, and nothing was there.
 The man got up off the bed, he had a shuffling step. He walked to the door, and quickly shut it. And then he locked the door. He was sure the door would stay closed, but just in cause
Browse More Like This

More from ~Anovoca

OctoberWinds whistling whispers
Forests fiery foliage falls
An arbor's autumn
Untitled - IntroductionI.

History will say that World's Crown shut down in 2171 at what was the start of the United States' second cold war with Russia. After decades of being the crowning jewel of modern society and being at the front for stemming peaceful relations between the two countries, it became ground zero for a cold war that lasted well over 50 years. Since that time, the once great city has stood abandoned at the top of the world, off limits to travelers from both countries.

Understand then the sincerity for which I write this, knowing full well the implications of this testimonial. Despite this, I have found it imperative that the truth be made know;
The DemonFears cloud my judgment
Madness and anger fester
Thoughts no longer mine

Featured in Groups

Not currently featured in any groups.
×

A Man of Shadows

:iconanovoca:

The thing about darkness is that it is but a perception.
We would cling to the shadows to hide, but the truth is we are never truly concealed.
As time passes by the eyes adjust and before long we find ourselves with an all too clear vision of that which we were hiding from,
ourselves.

Some call me a man of shadows, yet through my eyes I live in a place of complete clarity. For it was in the shadows where I ran to hide.
And it is in the shadows that I found my true self.

24

2 2 1
:iconanovoca:

A Man of Shadowsby ~Anovoca

DescriptionDetailsShare
Download HTML download, 598 bytes
Thought I would try my hand at a different style of literature than I am normally used too so please let me know what you think.
©2012-2013 ~Anovoca
Category: Literature / Prose / Fiction / Horror / Flash Fiction & Vignettes

Details

Stats

Submitted on
November 15, 2012
File Size
598 bytes
Views
24
Favourites
2 (who?)
Comments
2
Downloads
1
URL
Thumb
Only verified accounts can report policy violations. Please check your email and click on the verification link.
* Required field
:iconshehrozeameen:
Critique by *shehrozeameen Nov 16, 2012, 10:43:43 AM
I'll start with technique first, the italics being the slight corrections, inclusive of the punctuation:

The thing about darkness is that... it is but a perception;
We would cling to the shadows to hide, but the truth is: we are never truly concealed.
As time passes by, the eyes adjust - and before long, we find ourselves with an all too clear vision of that, which we were hiding from
... Ourselves....

Some... call me a man of shadows; yet through my eyes, I live in a place of complete clarity; For it was in the shadows, where I ran to hide.
And it is in the shadows that I found my true self.

This aside, I love this work - the concept is amazing, the delivery approach is brilliant, and the idea itself is so concrete its worth reading and worth thinking about.

I like how you've handled your work. Its good - keep at it, you'll improve with this approach.
What do you think?
Fair Unfair
The Artist thought this was FAIR
1 out of 1 deviants thought this was fair.
2 Replies

The Artist has requested Critique on this Artwork

Please sign up or login to post a critique.

Add a Comment:
 
Preview   Add Comment
©2013 deviantART. All rights reserved
About Us | Contact Us | Developers | Careers | Site Tour | Help & FAQ Advertise | Premium Membership Etiquette | Privacy Policy | Terms of Service | Copyright Policy