Exhibit L6
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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Nov 1, 2022
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Fiction
Horror
An artist who is out of ideas, lying on his work desk with a lot of mess around his room. He has long dark hair, brown eyes with dark circles, a pokey outgrowth of beard, overall a shaggy man. His name is Carlson Christopher. He was out of art supplies as he had no profit from all the paintings that he created after weeks and months of sleepless working hours. He had many half-done paintings all around his room scattered here and there. He was economically and mentally down. His mental state was so worse that he even started to question his own existence. "why should I live this pathetic life. I don't want to live like this, i hate this world.". Burdening himself with disgust and hate over himself, he decides to paint his last painting. He cut himself up with a knife, took his brush and took a clean canvas, he dipped his brush in his wounds and started painting ,a menacingly gore painting, but in plain sight, it was only a girl looking passionately at red moon on a dark night sky. Seemed simple enough, but this bloody beautiful piece of art was made intendedly to mean his end, and also as a proof of his life, as the proof that a person named Carlson Christopher once lived. But this wasn't the case with just himself and his death, this painting meant something to the supernatural, especially the demonic spirit 'Aletina'. (Aletina is a demonological spirit, which is attracted to the blood of humans who died a desperate and suicidal death while leaving something behind in the actual world, in this case, the painting. Aletina will possess this painting and protect it from others as she has devoured his soul and as a reward, will protect the painting that he kept back in the real world by herself with her demonic powers. )
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#70
demonology
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[BUNDLE] BOOK 1: There's a reason buried things should always stay buried. For better or for worse. To have and to hold a demon for eternity. She says demons haunt the night, inflecting everything in their path. But where I come from demons don't just lurk around the shadows. They breed in your head. Feasting on your soul until you cease to exist. And, mine just woke up infested in wicked lies. Till death do us apart, little soul. BOOK 2: Girls like them are expected to dance to the tune of evil. To smile with the taste of souls in their veins and vengeance in their hearts. To feed the ghosts and the monsters within them. Discarded by the world and hidden in a maze of twisted creatures, I'm barely holding into my sanity, trapped between the past and the present. Between good and evil. Until one day I no longer recognize myself or them. He says he can see beyond the evil that I am. But it's not him that my madness prevails for or HIM. Because I'm starting to hear their tune, dancing to destruction and chaos. BOOK 3: There's a reason buried things should always stay buried. Like my mistakes. Your past. Now the grave is open and corpses are crawling out. Corpses inflicted with lies and betrayals. Corpses that you pull the strings of, corpses that even Hell is afraid to take. You see, little soul, you think that makes you the monster in our story. But you forgot me. You forgot my promise. Our story might have ended with till death do us apart. But even death has a shadow to lose.

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