Being kind to others is not un-Satanic. You don't have to be an angry, tough edgelord to make whatever point you're trying to make.
I felt safe in the cold. I didn't dress for it either. I wanted it to claim me as I welcomed it in like an icy blanket of comfort.
Kindness hurts no one and it costs nothing.
Stumbling around, there's so much noise. I can't hear anything but the buzzing in my head. So many doors are locked and I must see them. And there is one who lives among them. Only they can release the monsters and ghosts inside. They are a ghost themselves, and they remind me of pain. How … Continue reading
Footsteps. It was always the footsteps that set me on edge. Across the fake wooden floor, his boots thumped around a quiet house.
It's been one of the hardest stories I've tried to write. Nothing in it feels good. There is no comedic relief. It is a raw horror with a near death experience, as well as an unnerving undertone of the reader - and even me - not being entirely sure of what's happening.
Words become harsh and vitriolic over years, and familiar faces I once greeted with excitement become unrecognizable, their tongues sharp as the knives that grace my skin.
I want to know this entity and who he really is. He's far too interesting to try to block out or ignore.
I finally sought out Kate Bush's ['Snowflake'], and I discovered something awe-inspiring.
The rest is but a dream.