It's the lake in November, and the move closer to the ocean, and Gerard's fixation, and Gerard's compulsions like tidal waves dragging him down, and Mikey's more distant than ever: like they're drifting out into the middle of the ocean, whereas Gerard's just stuck there: water turning to quicksand around him, drowning. And it's the letter; Frank finds it on the floor of the boys' bathroom on the first floor. It's dropped in accident, perhaps from a pocket or something, and it's drenched in what Frank hopes is tap water, and the words: scrawled in blue ink are difficult to make out as the words join together in a fuzzy inky mess. The only paragraph legible is the final one, and even still, it barely is: 'I've been underwater for a long time now, but I'm not drowning, I'm beginning to think I can breathe like this, but I can't, I'm gasping for breath, and I have to do this, Mikey, I have to end this myself. I'm going to the lake on the 1st of November, don't wait for me... I'm not coming back.' And the name signed at the bottom is little more than a smudged mess of blue ink, and there's nothing Frank can do about it, but he knows for certain that the one thing he can't do is ignore this letter, and he reminds himself of that as he folds it into his pocket. It's a suicide note, Frank's stupid, but not stupid enough to brush over that fact, and whoever this person is, Frank knows that they most certainly don't deserve to die. And Frank isn't going to let them. Because he's going to find this person; he's got time now at least, and he can save them, he will save them - Frank promises himself that. But one person in a whole school, it's like a needle in a haystack, but he's got time, it's November 1st in thirty days, and he can only hope that it will be enough. He's got one month: the date is October 1st.

Beckett King wants nothing more but for his people to feel safe. He's notorious for the extreme protection of his cult following of eclectic misfits, all seeming to want the same thing. With a dwindling mental state, longstanding hatred for his stepfather, and obsessive drug-taking- his ideas increasingly become more and more radical. All of them culminating in what he calls 'The Revolution' This story follows the eight days before their rising. (Based in the 1990's) (Adapted from my short script)

Jacob Hill is a quiet young man. He's caught up in his own world, as he battles to figure out who he is. In a last ditch attempt to get a glimpse of the people he admired as a child, he goes to work at The Westward Hotel- a place well-known for its glitter, gore and drugs. Thaddeus West is a troubled hotel owner- the owner of The Westward. His chronic illness causes him immense pain, unless he drinks a certain red substance that surges around the veins of his guests. The origins of this illness are too painful for him to relive, leaving him disgruntled and arrogant at all times. Jacob falls in love with the disgruntled young man on the top floor, as does Thaddeus. But, the aggressive nature of Thaddeus' disease begins to threaten their budding nature- with Thaddeus craving Jacob's blood. Will their love survive, or will it fester and putrefy?

random stories that cross my mind every now and then. buckle you seatbelts kiddos, cause you're in for a wild ride. don't say i didn't warn ya *violence *language *god awful puns

"My beautiful Puppet Boy and my beautiful Puppet Girl." A teenage boy and girl find themselves trapped in the lair of a crazy man obsessed with human puppetry. __________________ #1 in horror - 12/6/15 [featured - 12/30/15] IMPORTANT NOTICE - if you're reading this story on a site that is not www.wattpad.com then you could be at risk of a malware attack. Furthermore, please go to this link: www.wattpad.com/user/z0mbies, and report to me where you are reading this story. Thank you. WARNING: This story contains distressing material. Reader discretion advised. The characters in this book are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Short-ish dark stories I've written in the midst of my midnight madness. Heartbreaks. Angsts. Love stories. Fantasy stories. Any requests will be taken as well.