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Doreen June Watsford
Doreen's barely a tweenager when she slipped near a rocky grotto by her cousins home.
Doreen lost her footing balance on some unstable terrain crumbling down below with her.
Doreen's lifetime was c. 193X-194X
Rookwood General Cemetery
Rookwood, Cumberland Council, New South Wales, Australia
Anglican Sect 15 grave 2539
MEMORIAL ID 102416085 ·
‘Next Time You’ll Know Better’ by IPostAtMidnight
Have you ever walked into a room, and found a vampire?
The kind that snarls as you enter, like a beast about to pounce?
Have you felt time slow as the creature crosses the room in the darkness of a blink?
Have you shuddered with fear when it places one clawed hand atop your head and another under your neck?
Have you then experienced a sinking, sucking blackness as you discover that not all vampires feed on blood—some feed on memories?
Well, have you? Perhaps not.
But let me rephrase the question:
Have you ever walked into a room, and suddenly forgotten why you came in?
‘Seeing Red (The First Day of School)’ by Zenryhao
Everyone loves the first day of school, right? New year, new classes, new friends.
I like the first day of school for a different reason, though. You see, I have a sort of power.
When I look at people, I can…sense a sort of aura around them. A colour outline based on
how long that person has to live. Most everyone I meet around my age is surrounded by a
solid green hue, which means they have plenty of time left. A fair amount of them have a yellow
orange tinge to their auras, which tends to mean a disease or fire; some tragedy. Anything that
takes people “before their time” as they say. The real fun is when the auras venture into the red
end of the spectrum, though. Every now and again I’ll see someone who’s basically a stoplight.
Those are the ones who get in a car crash, or even a victim of crime. It’s such a rush to see them
and know their time is numbered. With that in mind, I always get to class very early so I can scout
out my classmates’ fates. The first kid who came in was basically radiating red. I tsk tsk tsk. Huh.
But as people kept walking in, they all had the same intense red glow. I finally caught a glimpse of
my own fading reflection in the window, but I was too stunned to move. Our professor stepped in
and locked the door, his aura a sickening shade of green...
Horror Short Story: The Accident
In this horror short story, a man tries to cope with what he has done.
Written by: Reddit user Minnboy
Halverson sat in his dark living room. He hadn’t moved for over an hour. The accident earlier that evening kept playing over and over in his mind. The light turned red, but he was in a hurry and accelerated.
An orange blur came from his right and in a split second there was a violent jolt, then the bicyclist rolled across his hood and fell out of sight on the pavement. Horns blared angrily and he panicked, stepping on the gas
and screeching away from the chaos into the darkness, shaken and keeping an eye on his rearview mirror until he got home.
Why did you run, you fool? He’d never committed a crime before this and punished himself by imagining years in jail, his career gone, his family gone, his future gone. Why not just go to the police right now?
Then someone tapped on the front door and his world suddenly crumbled away beneath him. They found me.
There was nothing he could do but answer it. Running would only make matters worse. Trembling, he got up, went to the door and opened it. A police officer stood under the porch light. “Mr. Halverson?” asked the grim officer.
He let out a defeated sigh. “Yes. Let me —”I am terribly sorry, but I’m afraid I have some bad news. Your son’s bike was struck by a hit and run driver this evening. He died at the scene. I’m very sorry for your loss..."
23 hr. ago
Oh my! I can hear him moving around down stairs. Can I remember if
I heard him come inside? Idk.
I must have because I've armed myself.
I cower away in this closet. But I can't remember any of that. I must be in shock. Oh
my heart is racing.
I hear him coming up the stairs. It won't be long until he finds me. I can already see
what everyone will be saying. "Man found in house", "The bloodbath".
He's right outside the room. I'm breathing so heavily. I'm sure he can hear me.
Please, stop shaking. Please, nerves calm down. He's opening the door.
This is it.
I'm so excited; I've been waiting in his closet for hours.
Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.
I Begged You
“Please, I am literally begging you,” I warn, but the executioner only sighs and
gives me a truly sorrowful look...
The chaplain sits beside me. “Once he pushes the button, death will come
soon after,” he explains, even though I have heard it so
many times before already. “Any final words?”
“Just, again, I tell you, begging you not to do this,” I say.
That’s the thing, though; I haven’t murdered anyone. It’s been this way my
The chaplain nods sadly, sorrowful that I do not face my executioner with a
That’s the thing, though. I haven’t murdered anyone. It’s been this way my
entire life. I don’t know why, but whenever I would accidentally hurt myself
others near me would receive the wound. I once got a paper cut in class that
caused the three people around me to bleed from their fingers. In high school, I
was in a car accident, and even though my side of the car was hit, my girlfriend
developed a broken leg.
I’m always very careful. I take care of myself, trying to stay in the very best of
health. But when I was mugged by that trio and he shot me in the face, theirs
exploded, not mine. And when the cops came, they found me kneeling by
their bodies, trying to figure out what to do and stupidly holding their gun.
Around thirty seconds after the execution started, I see both the executioner
and chaplain fall to the floor with a hard thump. “I told you,” I begged sadly.
12 hr. ago
It's happening again - I must wash away all this blood;
silently, I creep out to the kitchen like I've been doing for the past three years, spending hours in the moonlight scrubbing out every speck of evidence.
I know my dad and brothers think I'm some late bloomer, but I just don't want to freeze to death out in the menstrual hut like mum did.
Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.
Mary had a little lamb
It's fleece was white as snow,
And everywhere that Mary went
That lamb was sure to go.
He followed her to school one day
That was against the rules,
It made the children laugh and play
But soon they felt like fools.
Mary’s corpse was in a room
And oh, what a scene!
The kids saw her coated in blood
And regretted being mean.
Soon the police arrived
Stepped over Mary’s heart,
And tried to ask everyone
How she was ripped apart.
But when nobody knew
The origins of all the gore,
The police decided
That it was time to go hardcore.
And so everyone was dragged
To detectors so they can’t tell a lie
But everybody refused to tell
Why Mary had to die.
Suspects were jailed everywhere
Tom, Barb, and Sam
Because not a single person knew
The murderer was the lamb.
June 21, 2017