Jane Doe
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- Parts 1
MatureOngoing5m
Last published Thu, May 3, 2018
Eine geliebte Person verschwindet für mehrere Jahre, der Schmerz, die Ungewissheit und die Besessenheit davon, was passiert sein könne wird der einzige Identifikationspunkt für Dexter. Er wird zu dem Schmerz und dem Leid, das ihm widerfahren war und er lässt nicht locker, bis er herausgefunden hat, was mit seiner Geliebten passiert war.
Dies ist der Anfang der Geschichte. Lasst mich wissen, ob es sich lesen lässt :)
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🍷🦇 '𝙎𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙚' - 𝙓 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 (𝘿𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝘽𝙮 𝘿𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩) 🦇🩸
🍷🦇 Your P.O.V. 🦇🩸 You don't know much about me. I'm just an ordinary person. Well, to put into words, I'm a singer. And a dancer. And... yeah. That's all you need to know. One night, I stepped into some strange fog without hesitation... and it pulled me into another world. Apparently, some type of weird entity trapped me, selecting me as a survivor. Causing me to encounter some crazy psycho killers through these trials with other fellow survivors. It's like a never ending nightmare if you ask me. But one trial, I came across a killer - a vampire. The king of all vampires that I thought that was entirely a hoax... And from that night on, it later on became more of an obsession... 🩸🦇🍷
Decadent
My hand slaps against my mouth as I try to shut myself up. Don't make too much noise...or he'll hear you. A vehicle's door opens then slams shut. I don't hear footsteps...but as the minutes go by I begin to hear them; the footsteps get louder and louder and louder, matching the sound of my thundering heart. That's when I see his shadow cast over the ditch...over the place where I tried to hide. "Well," he says with a smile in his voice. "I wonder where he could've gone...the footprints stop here...so I wonder if he just...disappeared?" My body begins to tremble. I can feel it now. The pain. I can feel the pain already. He jumps down into the ditch...he stands directly in front of me, with his back facing me. My hand presses harder against my mouth as I try to suppress my whimper, but it's way too late now. But his body tenses up when he hears it. He laughs bitterly as he turns around slowly, and his eyes cut through my camouflage easily. "There you are."Complete![[SILENT SYSTEM]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/162644614-256-k104342.jpg)
[SILENT SYSTEM]
||A/N: Will update from time to time. . . ( High chance of being discontinued.) || Credit to original artist- I've only made a pastel edit with it...|| _______________________ Like any typical transmigration novel, a person will die in the hands of death before being given a system with unique personality. Given task missions in order to return to the original world. The host would either complete the world in success or fail the missions given only to be transferred into a punishment world. That was what Lucielle thought what would've happened if he encountered the situation after death but he was wrong, very...wrong. Who knew that Lucielle would be cursed once he died, lifeless on the ground? No one did. Lucielle was just one of those unlucky individuals who shouldn't have been touched in the first place. ___________________________________________ [- - -Cannot unlock fluent language ability- - -] '???' 'Didn't you say I could choose anything?' [System rechecking database...] [ . . . ] [Host, it has been confirmed, I asked the higher ups after rechecking your data base for any faults...It seems that you may have caught an unfortunate curse, to the point where Host cannot speak...Host, you are mute in this case] '. . .' -------------------------Complete
"Almost Green"
Strands of your mind cling together like web to a slippery leaf bathed in the morning dew. You have seen both heaven and hell, witnessed the atrocities of war firsthand, and imagined a better life in the deepest, most intimate corners of your dreaming spirit. The wishes for peace and certainty you have once so desperately longed for, now lay trampled underneath the might of your mind's vivid horrors. What was once so bright and lively, now cowers in fear, clinging to gone memories like a shipwreck survivor to some lowly piece of driftwood. From the depths of hell, you arrived victorious, grasping the laurel wreath high above your head. Unrecognizable, with your empty eyes telling a story of innocence brutally taken away from the child curling in shame in the depths of your empty soul. Almost green you are, curly head, having grown up with a rifle by your bedside table, never knowing peace and quiet. Out of the pan that was the Kazdel Civil War and into the scorching flames of Lungmen, where life flows by on its own accord, here, you must learn to live once more. So put on your best facade, Let the reuniting trumpets ring a wild, And allow the city to swallow you whole. Here we are, a continuation of my previous work "Goodbye Curly Head", which sprawled into quite the epistle (but it wasn't really a letter, it's just long :P). Summarized in the most basic way possible, it's a story about a twenty-year-old Kazdel Civil War veteran who goes to Lungmen and has some troubles acclimating to the steady life presented before him. Sprinkle in a too-good-to-be-true offer and a freshly established logistics company, and you get Andy trying to make it big for as long as his deteriorating mental state lets him. I'd say it works as a standalone story for anyone who doesn't want to bother reading the first part. For now, at least. As always, please, pwwease leave a comment, positive, negative, I LOOOVE reading and replying to comments!!Complete
~Just A Teenage Dirtbag~
Life feels empty to Wren. Her sister and mother want nothing to do with her. Nothing feels like anything, until she meets Rook. In Rook's arms the world seems right, but what happens if she never lets him in....and what happens if Rook were to disappear... ~~~ He looks back at me, watching me study him. I look away, its now my turn to study the horizon. I can feel heat blooming on my cheeks and I can feel his eyes taking in every bit of my face. I feel his finger softly touch my cheek. I jump a little, and he lowers his hand. "Sorry" He says softly, I can see his guard going back up. "No its fine-I just....wasn't expecting it." I say, swallowing. Did I really just say that? What was wrong with me.... Suddenly I had this urge to take his hand and put it back on my cheek. I flushed at the thought. This was getting so awkward. I looked up at him. His eyes seemed cold, calculating. I couldn't say I liked this, but then his eyes softened, and the unimaginable happened. His hand materialized, tucking a stray piece of my hair behind my ear. He was so focused on the strand, but then his focus spread to my eyes, the look in his eyes. Jesus, I'm going to melt. He was looking at me like his universe surrounded me, like I knew the answers, like I could fix his cracks. The worst part was....I could see the exact same on his face as he could see on mine. ~~~ #2 in military #827 in anxiety #22 in separated
Project
*WARNING: CONTAINS SOME SCENES OF VIOLENCE/IN DEPTH DESCRIPTIONS OF CERTAIN SCENES OF GORE, DOES TOUCH ON SUBJECTS THAT ARE VERY TOUCHY AND EMOTIONAL, AND HAS INFERENCES OF CERTAIN MENTALITIES. OBVIOUSLY, VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. (can I stop now? Cool). 2 men seek answers for one of the greatest mysteries that they have ever seen. Taking them on a journey through memories that should have never surfaced, and finding out what they should never know. Follow this journey with these men: Questioner and Writer, as they ask the closest people who knew about the kid who was only ever known as: "Project". (Also, cover hasn't been made yet, though I do have an idea, I just need to ask one of my friends if they can draw it, as I'm rubbish with a pencil)Complete
𝑰 𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑳𝑳 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼, 𝑰 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑰𝑺𝑬 ✧ 𝑩𝑨𝑫 𝑺𝑨𝑵𝑺𝑬𝑺
"How can Cupid... how could you be so cruel?" I curse lowly. Who could have imagined something like this happening to me? It had been so long since everything happened, but somehow the pain in my heart never left. The memories starts to flashback into my mind as I start to process what is happening in front of me, and why my past heartbreaks are all gathered at the same place. Nightmare, my childhood friend and first love. My first ever heartbreak. I tend to find him in everyone I have loved. He was cold and unpredictable but he was also warm and considerate at times... He was complicated but I loved all of him. Error, the one I chased over and one I was not willing to give up. He stood up from the rest and gave color to my world. All my poems were dedicated to him and him alone. Dust, possibly my other half. He felt like my soulmate. Everything about him made me feel like we were meant for each other. We shared the same interests about everything but I was wrong about one thing. We didn't share the same feelings. His heart belonged to my best friend. Killer, a flirty guy who people often rumored as the playboy. Most girls had fallen in love with his charm and personality. I was one of those unfortunate ones who fell right into his trap. But I... I saw something in him that other people couldn't see; there was something beneath those sweet grins. Horror. My comfort. My home. The one who filled the gap. The one who I think of every little nice thing. I love him so much to the point where I feel like the pain that would come with it would be worse than death. It had to be avoided. Cross. I was always drawn into him. He was my best-est friend. The one who I can count on everytime. The shoulder I can lean to when needed. The one who made me feel like I am the best thing that ever happened in his life. He was perfect while I am just... me. So why did I have to see them again? Why now? Love is not something I want to go through again... never again. <\3
Killing Is Thrilling
'The night was alive with silence. I moved through it like a shadow, black leather gloves tight on my hands, boots soft against the grass. My gas mask hid my face, leaving only darkness where my eyes should be. The world narrowed to a single point: the house ahead. Tonight, it would belong to me. The farmhouse rose stark and white beneath the moonlight, silent except for the occasional grunt of a pig or the low hum of a cow. They were unaware. They were insignificant. I crouched behind the hedge, eyes scanning, senses alert. Every detail mattered: the flicker of light across the curtains, the faint rustle of movement inside, the way a shadow shifted across the floor. She was there. Oblivious. Popcorn in hand, murmuring to herself as the television flickered. Every motion was a note in tonight's symphony, and I was the conductor. I studied her, cataloging. Timing. Patterns. Fear. She didn't notice me yet, and that was perfect. Patience was everything. One sound, one misstep, and it could all unravel. I rang the doorbell once. Silence. Again. Still nothing. She flinched slightly, just enough to make my pulse quicken. Her small reaction was delicious. A sudden movement in the yard caught my eye-a neighbor's dog barking at some unseen intruder. Its voice was loud, startling, but contained. I froze. My breath slowed. Patience. Observation. The dog's curiosity would pass. I remained still, hidden in shadow, letting the moment stretch. The animal lost interest and padded away. Perfect. I moved to the back of the house, hammer in hand.' ...Complete
Jeff the Killer
Jeff the Killer Origin story !FICTION! !CREEPYPASTA STORY! !NOT ORIGINAL STORY!Complete
Reaping The Red Heir
He smiled. The devil himself couldn't have crafted a more wicked grin. "What do you say we play a game, little Reaper?" I narrowed my eyes, trying to decipher his intentions. "What kind of game?" His grin widened, showing the tips of his fangs. I watched the prince curiously as he strode over to his bag. With a swift motion, he withdrew a bow and a quiver of arrows, flinging them at my feet without so much as a second glance. I furrowed my eyebrows, casting him a look of uncertainty. That sinister grin stayed plastered upon his lips as he said, "Run." *** I, Skyla Ashforth, am what some might call a "sociopath." It was a title that fit. Why shouldn't I embrace it? I am a vampire slayer, a Reaper of bloodsuckers, and an exceptionally good one, if I do say so myself. Yes, being a sociopath has its perks; I could manipulate and deceive with the best of them. So, when captured by the notorious Red Prince, I embraced the challenge of manipulating my freedom. Pierce Darcee, was a sadistic vampire with a God complex. The fool actually believed he could break me. Little did he know, I was the kind of Reaper who would dance through a battlefield, whistling a merry tune as I twirled my braids. I relished the challenge of manipulating his oversized ego, planning to stab that rotting, blackened heart of his with a venom-laced dagger. I crafted a scheme so delightful, so intricate, that I couldn't help but salivate at the prospect of victory. It was foolproof, or so my mind believed. But then... then there was that pull. That unexpected, unwelcome spark that ignited something within me. Feelings, of all things! Now, that was a complication. Disgusting, messy feelings that could very well lead to my destruction. Or his. It was a dangerous game we played, but then again, the most thrilling ones usually are. *Rated M for Murder, Mayhem, and some profanity. Sorry but no smutty interludes. You've stumbled into a blood bath, not a bodice ripper.*Complete
🍷🦇 Your P.O.V. 🦇🩸 You don't know much about me. I'm just an ordinary person. Well, to put into words, I'm a singer. And a dancer. And... yeah. That's all you need to know. One night, I stepped into some strange fog without hesitation... and it pulled me into another world. Apparently, some type of weird entity trapped me, selecting me as a survivor. Causing me to encounter some crazy psycho killers through these trials with other fellow survivors. It's like a never ending nightmare if you ask me. But one trial, I came across a killer - a vampire. The king of all vampires that I thought that was entirely a hoax... And from that night on, it later on became more of an obsession... 🩸🦇🍷
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