Warning
My writing is a known cause of lunacy. Don't pass this warning off as such.
My writing is a known cause of lunacy. Don't pass this warning off as such.
Polly
Posted 02-01-2010 at 04:11 PM by Good Super Villain
Polly woke up and realized she was soaking wet. As she looked at her body she noticed she was drenched in blood and she could tell she was moving. She looked around and saw that she was in the back of a truck. Her body twitched and she began to vomit, probably from the stench of the thirty other decaying bodies that she was intertwined with. Her head was spinning so badly that her stomach kept flopping and the nausea was consuming her. She was too sick to move so she fell back on the dead bodies beneath her and vomited all over herself. In her distressed state she could hear a faint moan or cry. There was someone else alive. The calls came from someone obviously unlucky enough to be on the bottom of the pile of dead. Polly was in no shape to help or move, but heart pounded like a drum. She listened to his calls and heard him crying. It sounded like he was is so much pain. She became overcome with immense terror. She felt that this was it, that her life was going to be over very soon. Her heart pounded and so did her head. The painful cries from the other victim rang through her head making the pounding that much worse.
The truck rocked from side to side as it ventured up along the river bank. It slowed down as it approached a large campfire that had a group of men around it. Polly looked at the flickering flames. They looked very warm and inviting. That is until she noticed it was not a campfire at all. The fire was of bodies and the men were all wearing hazmat suits. The truck spun around and began to back up to the edge of the fire. The tailgate opened and the men grabbed a body that was right beside her and threw it on the fire. The man spoke, “You can’t throw them all on at once. You have to do it slowly. See how this one’s skin is starting to bubble. Look at his eyes. When the steam in his brain gets hot enough. Kersploosh. His eyes will pop.” The men stood there and watched the body burn. Then there was a popping sound followed quickly by another. The two men laughed and pulled another body out from the truck. It was still not Polly but it did roll her over to her side. She opened her eyes and watched the men throw the body. As it hit the fire, cinders of previous people streamed into the air like stars trying to escape. Polly reached deep within her soul to try to speak. She tried so hard and finally came out with, “Help me. I am alive.” One of the men heard her and walked over to her. Whack. He hit her over the head with his shovel. Whack. Whack. The pain shot through her body and she began to shake with convulsions, but still she was alive. “Look at this.” Said the man with the shovel, “Look at her shake. She almost looks fuckable as she shakes there, but she will be dead soon enough. I had to hit her. She would have screamed when she hit the fire. I hate it when they scream. Almost makes me feel guilty and I hate feeling guilty before dinner.” Whack. He hit her again. Then he took out a pair of tin snips. He cut holes around her breasts and a large hole around her pussy. “Shame this one got sick. She has beautiful tits and her pussy; hell, I would almost take the risk of catching the illness for a taste of this one.” The man with the shovel said as he squeezed his dick through his suit with his free hand. Polly could not move but she was still alive and alert enough to experience this terror. Both her heart and head pounded faster and faster. She wanted to scream, but feared it would only result in another hit from the shovel. So she laid there and watched the men throw bodies one by one on the fire. Then she felt fingers in her hair and hands on her feet.
As she flew through the air towards the fire she cursed at god. Hitting the fire for a brief moment she felt warm and calm. This only lasted for a second. The flames quickly caught her hair on fire and then she felt her dress melting around her. The intense burning pain engulfed her as her skin began to bubble. Most people would have already been out cold by this point, but not everyone was on a twenty hour coke binge like she was before collapsing. She was alive and aware of the burning. Her heart pounded in desperation and it felt like it was going to burst through her chest. Then, just then, there was a couple of popping sounds. Again the men laughed, “See if I did not hit her with the shovel she would have screamed for sure.” They continued burning bodies one by one until they reached the other one who was alive.
They stopped and turned white as ghosts. They backed up from the truck and turned to run. The man, now freed of bodies upon him, took flight after them. With his claws he cut into both of the men impaling them on his hands. He walked with one on each hand and hung their heads over the fire. The men screamed as their hair caught fire. The smell of burning hair refreshed the man. He leaned closer and they screamed more. He loved the screams more than music. He smiled as he watched their heads burn and began to laugh as he heard their eyes pop.
The truck rocked from side to side as it ventured up along the river bank. It slowed down as it approached a large campfire that had a group of men around it. Polly looked at the flickering flames. They looked very warm and inviting. That is until she noticed it was not a campfire at all. The fire was of bodies and the men were all wearing hazmat suits. The truck spun around and began to back up to the edge of the fire. The tailgate opened and the men grabbed a body that was right beside her and threw it on the fire. The man spoke, “You can’t throw them all on at once. You have to do it slowly. See how this one’s skin is starting to bubble. Look at his eyes. When the steam in his brain gets hot enough. Kersploosh. His eyes will pop.” The men stood there and watched the body burn. Then there was a popping sound followed quickly by another. The two men laughed and pulled another body out from the truck. It was still not Polly but it did roll her over to her side. She opened her eyes and watched the men throw the body. As it hit the fire, cinders of previous people streamed into the air like stars trying to escape. Polly reached deep within her soul to try to speak. She tried so hard and finally came out with, “Help me. I am alive.” One of the men heard her and walked over to her. Whack. He hit her over the head with his shovel. Whack. Whack. The pain shot through her body and she began to shake with convulsions, but still she was alive. “Look at this.” Said the man with the shovel, “Look at her shake. She almost looks fuckable as she shakes there, but she will be dead soon enough. I had to hit her. She would have screamed when she hit the fire. I hate it when they scream. Almost makes me feel guilty and I hate feeling guilty before dinner.” Whack. He hit her again. Then he took out a pair of tin snips. He cut holes around her breasts and a large hole around her pussy. “Shame this one got sick. She has beautiful tits and her pussy; hell, I would almost take the risk of catching the illness for a taste of this one.” The man with the shovel said as he squeezed his dick through his suit with his free hand. Polly could not move but she was still alive and alert enough to experience this terror. Both her heart and head pounded faster and faster. She wanted to scream, but feared it would only result in another hit from the shovel. So she laid there and watched the men throw bodies one by one on the fire. Then she felt fingers in her hair and hands on her feet.
As she flew through the air towards the fire she cursed at god. Hitting the fire for a brief moment she felt warm and calm. This only lasted for a second. The flames quickly caught her hair on fire and then she felt her dress melting around her. The intense burning pain engulfed her as her skin began to bubble. Most people would have already been out cold by this point, but not everyone was on a twenty hour coke binge like she was before collapsing. She was alive and aware of the burning. Her heart pounded in desperation and it felt like it was going to burst through her chest. Then, just then, there was a couple of popping sounds. Again the men laughed, “See if I did not hit her with the shovel she would have screamed for sure.” They continued burning bodies one by one until they reached the other one who was alive.
They stopped and turned white as ghosts. They backed up from the truck and turned to run. The man, now freed of bodies upon him, took flight after them. With his claws he cut into both of the men impaling them on his hands. He walked with one on each hand and hung their heads over the fire. The men screamed as their hair caught fire. The smell of burning hair refreshed the man. He leaned closer and they screamed more. He loved the screams more than music. He smiled as he watched their heads burn and began to laugh as he heard their eyes pop.
Total Comments 11
Comments
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Didn't read all of it, it failed to capture my interest. In terms writing, it's not bad, but it's obviously the work of an amateur.
I can tell you're a teenager.Posted 02-01-2010 at 04:15 PM by Tetragrammatongue My Anus 
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i appreciate your lack of literary knowledge and am happy you were not even able to pay attention long enough to become another hater point little fingers
i hope you stay this wicked and dont become another sheep for me to fuckPosted 02-01-2010 at 04:31 PM by Good Super Villain
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I bet you do.
Posted 02-01-2010 at 04:37 PM by Tetragrammatongue My Anus
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BTW, my literary knowledge is extensive enough to be able to tell this is not quality work, but merely the first steps towards something potentially better.
Posted 02-01-2010 at 04:41 PM by Tetragrammatongue My Anus
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wicked
thanks
what throws you off is my use of words
i am known as king of psychobabble
its hard to read sometimes
but its designed to push buttons in your head you are unaware of
oh and as for my writing
after 25 years i think if i wanted to write something amazing i would not be posting it herePosted 02-01-2010 at 04:47 PM by Good Super Villain
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No, the problem is the simplicity. You write like an angst ridden teenager.
If you've been doing this for 25 years, you should probably reconsider claiming your work is "good"Posted 02-01-2010 at 04:53 PM by Tetragrammatongue My Anus
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you know tetragrammatongue.. you attack fairly early, especially considering you haven’t given the writing the respect to read the whole thing..
i personally consider GSV's psychobabble to be entertaining and id consider it "good' , my words more go along the lines of "beautifully wicked" maybe one has to be insane to be able to appreciate it.. if so.. i fucking love being crazy.Posted 02-01-2010 at 09:57 PM by GoreWhoreNemesis
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You're wrong. It's really that simple, he is not creative, he is very commonplace. This psychobabble you speak of does not exist in his texts. STFU lest I shit on your cunt.
Posted 02-03-2010 at 12:51 PM by Tetragrammatongue My Anus
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you are a nasty fucker
and all the attention you show can only mean one thing
but sorry
i am straight
but i do still think all the love you show is killer cool
maybe i should call you cupcakePosted 02-03-2010 at 02:29 PM by Good Super Villain
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shit on my cunt? bitch please, people are entilted to opinions.. i was merely stating mine. go fuck yourself, now i have better things to do then fed a troll.. so starve..
Posted 02-04-2010 at 05:40 AM by GoreWhoreNemesis
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Thank you miss nemesis
Your name is funny because if you were the real Nemesis
Would i be allowed to be here?Posted 02-04-2010 at 03:31 PM by Good Super Villain
