The most disturbing fan fiction you have ever read.
- Thread starter saintdane05
- Start date
Same here. I feel that the most disturbing line is: "And he was outside my window and masticating to it!" Now, what makes this worse is the definition of masticating. Masticating in chewing. Yes, I am kind of a grammar nazi.canadamus_prime said:
If you think My Little Pony fanfiction is disturbing, you haven't read Doug fanfiction.
Dear Journal,
I don't know if it's me, Doug, anymore.
As you no doubt remember from my previous entry Bluffington is no longer as I remember it. Everything outside is dark and I don't remember the the last time I saw the sun.
The silence in the house is oppressive. The air is heavy and collects in my lungs as moisture from a fog. Every time I look up the bulbs appear to glow fainter and yellower. Three of them have burnt out in the lower floors. As you will remember, journal, Judy is locked in the basement. She was hammering on the door loudly and moaning in that once-human voice for hours, but now she has fallen silent. I dare not unlock the door. Once, and only once, I have tried to listen at that portal; I heard a very faint yet raspy breathing of a bloody throat and the touch of fingertips on the wooden door. Judy - or what was once Judy - then slammed the door with what I presume were fists and released a cacophony of shrieking. It took ten minutes for it to fall silent again and I cannot stand to provoke it again.
Mom and Dad said they had to look for help and tried to make a run for it. I closed and bolted the door after them, as they had instructed, but still heard the screams - human and inhuman - from the outside. I never heard the car's engine start. The cracking and slurping continued for an hour. I have tried to comfort myself with Porkchop's company, but eventually - for no reason I can decipher - he went mad, running in circles and foaming at the mouth, barking at every exit to the outside. It was a blessing to us both when he finally vomited up blood, whined once, and fell over dead.
All the lights in the house suddenly went dead. Excuse my poor penmanship, Journal, for I am writing in total darkness. I can hear a faint murmuring sound outside. Picking up the phone I hear nothing, no dial tone, such as it was in my previous entry.
My eyes are adjusting to the dark. Looking out the window I can see black-on-black shapes writhing, human bodied controlled by something else. Their movements are lithe and flexible, as if unused to their own forms but unconcerned by the pain of twisting joints. ON the neighboring lawn I can see the fat, bloated form of Bud Dink, arms twisting in bizarre directions in deference to some obscene being, or deity, or something else beyond my comprehension.
I fear I am the only one in town not yet affected, or dead. I can hear sounds now, what would be speech, but only come as illegible tonguing to my still sane(?) ears, but I can recognize voices. The crass baying of Roger. The shrill piping of Beebe. The...high, perfect singer's tones of Patti. My dear, sweet Pattie, into this thing of evil and horror. I can only pray the real you, Patti, has left to somewhere unreachable by this insidious influence.
"HONK HONK" I hear, echoing through the streets and over carefully manicured lawns. So, he still retains something of him. Perhaps is was because it was first, that it started with him. Friendly Skeeter. Poor Skeeter. Damned, too-intelligent Skeeter with his perfect IQ scores. Damn him! and his sudden obsession with those runes. He was the only one that could have done it. If I had killed him that day, as I knew in my heart of hearts I should have, this all could have been avoided.
I hear a crash. The front doors, below me, are open. Suddenly sound fills the house. I hear what was Judy banging on the basement door again, screaming to be released even as her rescuers thunder up the stairs towards me. The revolver in my possession can not stop them all, and I don't want to see what will come next, anyway. I can feel what is coming will be worse than any hell that comes of death by one's own hand.
You were the only friend able to comfort me in my last moments, Journal. Goodbye.
I don't know if it's me, Doug, anymore.
As you no doubt remember from my previous entry Bluffington is no longer as I remember it. Everything outside is dark and I don't remember the the last time I saw the sun.
The silence in the house is oppressive. The air is heavy and collects in my lungs as moisture from a fog. Every time I look up the bulbs appear to glow fainter and yellower. Three of them have burnt out in the lower floors. As you will remember, journal, Judy is locked in the basement. She was hammering on the door loudly and moaning in that once-human voice for hours, but now she has fallen silent. I dare not unlock the door. Once, and only once, I have tried to listen at that portal; I heard a very faint yet raspy breathing of a bloody throat and the touch of fingertips on the wooden door. Judy - or what was once Judy - then slammed the door with what I presume were fists and released a cacophony of shrieking. It took ten minutes for it to fall silent again and I cannot stand to provoke it again.
Mom and Dad said they had to look for help and tried to make a run for it. I closed and bolted the door after them, as they had instructed, but still heard the screams - human and inhuman - from the outside. I never heard the car's engine start. The cracking and slurping continued for an hour. I have tried to comfort myself with Porkchop's company, but eventually - for no reason I can decipher - he went mad, running in circles and foaming at the mouth, barking at every exit to the outside. It was a blessing to us both when he finally vomited up blood, whined once, and fell over dead.
All the lights in the house suddenly went dead. Excuse my poor penmanship, Journal, for I am writing in total darkness. I can hear a faint murmuring sound outside. Picking up the phone I hear nothing, no dial tone, such as it was in my previous entry.
My eyes are adjusting to the dark. Looking out the window I can see black-on-black shapes writhing, human bodied controlled by something else. Their movements are lithe and flexible, as if unused to their own forms but unconcerned by the pain of twisting joints. ON the neighboring lawn I can see the fat, bloated form of Bud Dink, arms twisting in bizarre directions in deference to some obscene being, or deity, or something else beyond my comprehension.
I fear I am the only one in town not yet affected, or dead. I can hear sounds now, what would be speech, but only come as illegible tonguing to my still sane(?) ears, but I can recognize voices. The crass baying of Roger. The shrill piping of Beebe. The...high, perfect singer's tones of Patti. My dear, sweet Pattie, into this thing of evil and horror. I can only pray the real you, Patti, has left to somewhere unreachable by this insidious influence.
"HONK HONK" I hear, echoing through the streets and over carefully manicured lawns. So, he still retains something of him. Perhaps is was because it was first, that it started with him. Friendly Skeeter. Poor Skeeter. Damned, too-intelligent Skeeter with his perfect IQ scores. Damn him! and his sudden obsession with those runes. He was the only one that could have done it. If I had killed him that day, as I knew in my heart of hearts I should have, this all could have been avoided.
I hear a crash. The front doors, below me, are open. Suddenly sound fills the house. I hear what was Judy banging on the basement door again, screaming to be released even as her rescuers thunder up the stairs towards me. The revolver in my possession can not stop them all, and I don't want to see what will come next, anyway. I can feel what is coming will be worse than any hell that comes of death by one's own hand.
You were the only friend able to comfort me in my last moments, Journal. Goodbye.
It's actually not near as bad as everyone makes it out to be. It's just really dark and really gory. Think Silence of the Lambs mixed with Saw. I read it and thought it was a delightfully twisted story. The original has lots of typos, but I think that's because it was written on a drunken dare or something. It's hardly an abomination on the level of My Immortal or other infamous shit fics. All in all though it's very over hyped, the really scary shit is the ungodly amount of shipping [http://encyclopediadramatica.ch/Shipping] fics that come out of the pony fandom. I'm serious when I say that's all people seem to write about.aegix drakan said:I don't read fanfiction.So I'm safe.
Although that "cupcake" MLP one is supposed to be the biggest abomination this side of twilightXharry-potter merged fanfics, or so I've heard.
The pony fandom was my first experience with fanfiction. There were a few really good stories (like Better living through Science and Ponies, a portal 2 crossover that was surprisingly good) but 98% of the stuff I ran across was just crappy shipping fics. So yeah, I'm pretty turned off to fan fiction at this point.
I never read the REALLY bad stuff myself. But thanks to Fan Fiction Friday on ToplessRobot.com I've been exposed to some of the worst. I can't remember the title but the only one that's ever made me feel unclean was one that ended with Kitty Pryde masturbating herself to death with a piece of Wolverine's spine. He had just been melted into a puddle of goo by a dying Dark Phoenix.
Why would anyone write that?
For the record I actually wrote a Transformers/Star Trek TNG fanfic myself in high school. In hindsight it was pretty awful but not this kind of bad. just dull. lol
Why would anyone write that?
For the record I actually wrote a Transformers/Star Trek TNG fanfic myself in high school. In hindsight it was pretty awful but not this kind of bad. just dull. lol
That's interesting because it's exactly that cannon destroying bullshit that makes me HATE fanfiction in all it's forms.Fawxy said:Yep. I didn't introduce any new characters, didn't change any of the ways any of the characters acted, and didn't do any horrible slash pairings. I just tried to make an honest attempt at writing what I thought would be an entertaining and true-to-the-source story.canadamus_prime said:Wait wait wait, let me just see if I understand you correctly; you were chastised for trying to stay faithful to the show. ...what?Fawxy said:
Apparently, that's a big no-no in the fanfiction community. After all, if you're not horrifically retconning the entire series with the shit that's spewing forth from your keyboard, you must not be trying, right? /sarcasm
Wait... Someone actually liked Doug enough to write fan fiction about it?Midnight Crossroads said:
Naruto Vengeance Revelations-Just ugh. So bad.
Chunin Exam Day- Ugh, such bad Peggy Sue
90% of the fics for small fandoms. Still haven't found any TWGOK fics.
Chunin Exam Day- Ugh, such bad Peggy Sue
90% of the fics for small fandoms. Still haven't found any TWGOK fics.
One of my friends refused to watch a tv show so I told him I'd read something if he watched one episode he said if I could go all the way through my immortal he'd watch the entire season. I started to taste metal in my mouth and I think my nose started to bleed from the headache I got I can't remember exactly all I know is I need to know how to get rid of a body.
<link=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transformers_%28film%29>This.
I warn you, it's extremely graphic, nauseating, disjointed, pretentious, apathetic, and offensive.
I warn you, it's extremely graphic, nauseating, disjointed, pretentious, apathetic, and offensive.