The scary thread
- Thread starter Mcupobob
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Holy crap! I thought I had gotten used to these by now, but no, still nearly soiled myself.David_G said:
Well done, whoever made that!
That's fine, I got rid of it by yelling 'Ouy slepmoc tsirhc fo rewop eht' while standing with my back to the mirror of erised.David_G said:
My computer says it's been taken down for violation of the Geneva convention. Haha, just kidding, it only should have been.Ldude893 said:[HEADING=1]AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH[/HEADING]icame said:
Okay, okay, I put it out of my system now. But damn, that is scary.
So... monkeys with machetes, anyone?
Not sure if it's true, but they might even know how to make their own.
Not sure if it's true, but they might even know how to make their own.
My name? Well that?s not important. What is Important is my story and even more important my warning to you. I don?t care if you believe me or not but I warn you, if you keep going down that dirt road you?ll hit SlumLake. What?s that you say? Not on you?re map? That?s cause its Dinklin?s chemical co.?s dirty little secret, out of business now. They say it used to a nice place though even I?m not old enough to remember back when it was called hummingbird lake. A little local secret till they came in and ruined it, I?ve been told anyways. When I lived there it was a slum for the minimum wage slaves and white trash criminals.
It was a small trailer park with the population of 42 back in ?71. I used to live there as a kid. It was hell there, my father working to jobs and living in a one bedroom trailer, he was good man always trying to get me out that place. That?s not important though, what is important is Myrtle sharp, or Myrtle the Shark as me and my few friends liked to call her. An old lady, a obese hag of sorts if you catch my drift. Ugly! She lived closest to the lake. You had to take a small narrow path to get down to it and on that the path sat her trailer. She was famous for being a hermit in a town amongst hermits, living off her famous road kill stew.
Any time me and my friends tried to sneak down to old SlumLake, god only knows why we would even want to. She would be sitting outside her trailer and threaten to put us in her stew if we went any further. At the time we took it as a offense and actual threat, what we didn?t realize was that she didn?t want us falling into the polluted water. Sigh* god we were such stupid children. As we got older and dumber, we began playing pranks on the poor soul, till one day a firecracker lit the trailer she lived in up in flames. She rushed out wearing her signature Muumuu on fire. She? She ran so fast that she broke through the barbed wirer that surrounded the lake and fell in. Scared, me and my friends never spoke of it, and nobody thought of much when she went missing.
A week later, Ms. Button a single mom awoke the whole trailer park one early morning to find that her son lil?Hunter was missing. He was found outside of Mrs. Sharps burnt down trailer. In a pot of stew, bones, flesh, and his head with two missing eyes were all that remained. We didn?t call the cops despite Ms. Buttons protest, it was a shame really the criminals and single parent with children that were token unlawful from custody battles were to scared to have the police snooping around. When I think back on it now, the cops wouldn?t have been much of a help anyways.
With each passing night the killings continued and increased, sometimes we would find a stew others times nothing. People in the park began accusing each other and when the population went form 42 only down to 16 within only two nights, my friends and father included. I left with the last 16 of us. I managed to walk here fifteen miles and got job here at this ol? gas station. I can see in your kids? eyes this only excites you, you?re welcome to visit it Slumlake. I given my warning though, I just wished you would take it seriously.
Part 2
I?m a paranormal investigator. I know, I know. Not exactly a field taken seriously. Truth is I spend most of my time debunking crop circles and local legends. Disappointingly to always find it was some college pranksters or something as lame as the wind blowing in the right spot, making me disrespected not only by regular people but by people in my own field too. Well not this one. I was on my to go investigate a run of the mill crop circle positive to find out it was just a bunch of pranksters.
Along for the ride, were a couple friends of mine. Carson, a budding writer on spring break hoping to get a good sci-fi story by coming along with me. Sarah, a conspiracy theorist who runs a blog on various things and was coming along for a story too. She wanted to expand a section on her site to include aliens. Jacob, who is an apprentice of mine of sorts, he was excited to get some field work in. On our way to the crop circle site, which was quite a ways out. We ended up stopping in a small town, pulling up to the one pump gas station I went over to a old man sitting in a rocker outside the store and decided to here his story. He told a fantastic legend about a place called SlumLake.
Ignoring his warnings, we marked on our map were the apparent location to this Slumlake was we the intent of heading out there the next day. Finding a nice little hotel to stay at we hunkered in for the night. Sarah was a little disappointed by this detour as it had nothing to do with Aliens. Since she was along for the ride though, and the rest of our group was ecstatic about going she had no choice but to allow our detour. We awoke around ten, packed up and headed out to SlumLake. On the way there, passing the gas station we could see the old man shaking his head disappointingly. A worried feeling washed over me as we began to near but I shook it off. Jacob?s excitement was enough to get me reinvigorate about the trip.
It surprisingly wasn?t hard to find. Just like the old man said, an abandon trailer park. Carson, whom always carried around a green little notebook, was writing down everything he saw. Most of the homes were unlocked. Some even had the doors wide open. Though run downed they still were full furnished. It was spooky and just the paranormal I needed to get my ?career? back on track. We eventually found the narrow path to the lake that the old man was talking about. As we traveled down the narrow path we came to a little opening with the skeleton of a burnt down trailer sitting in the middle of a lush little meadow. There wasn?t much there, the only thing that wasn?t burnt was a little kitchen with rusty cutlery lying about.
Carson was writing in his notebook furiously, pausing to look up every now and then and take in the disturbing scene. Jacob was taking pictures like there was no tomorrow, mumbling to him self. Sarah just stood there, with a worried and pale look on her face but said nothing. I poked around along with the others in till we decided to move to the lake. Just like the old man said, the lake was polluted. It smelt of decay and death, around was a barbed wire fence, and with a section of it pulled down like a large animal had ran through, just like he had said.
Jacob took his pictures once again, and Carson was writing and I was poking around in till it reached around four in the afternoon. We headed back up to the main site, only to stop by the burnt up trailer to find a bubbling pot sitting outside. The manner of the calm lush meadow always changed. It was dead quite and the absence of animals was clear. The meadow looked dead and dried up now.
When we went to look in the rusty bubbling pot, what we found was horrifying. Various bones, bits of flesh and heads of small animals slowly churned almost demonically in the witches stew. Carson, an animal lover vomited at the site and stench of it. Jacob took pictures and was almost sickly fascinated by it. The rest of us, feeling dread wanted to get out as fast as possibly before dark fall. We would have left as soon as we got to the car, but Jacob reminded me that this kind of stuff was my job. I managed to convince him that setting up some cameras around the site would be enough for today and we would return tomorrow.
We quickly set up the cameras as fast as possible and all piled in the car. I eased the key into the ignition, turning the key hard with my heart thumping. Startled by the engine starting, I let out a little laugh and so did the rest of my group. We quickly pulled out of the abandon trailer park as the sun was being to set in the background, Jacob being the only one to look back. We arrived at the Hotel, the innkeeper being some what surprised by our return. We were all a bit tired and drained form the whole trip and began unwinding our on ways. Jacob decided he wanted to go hit the local bar and we waved him off.
Carson was pulling out another notebook and writing once again, stopping every now and then to tap his pencil on his chin. Sarah, not so angry about the trip anymore, was tapping away on her laptop probably updating her blog and sharing her story. As for me I was reviewing pictures and writing down my own notes and hypotheses. As the night went on Jacob wasn?t to be found, sure that he would be returning later tonight in a drunken stumble we turned out the lights and went to bed. We all woke up early morning the sunlight lazily peaking through the windows. The first thing we noticed was Jacob wasn?t there. A handheld video Camera was missing form our car.
We asked around town if they have seen him, the bartender at the only pub in town told us. He told us that Jacob had convinced a local boy to drive him somewhere. We knew where that somewhere was immediately. Driving at dangerous speeds we made it to SlumLake in the matter of minutes. Arriving at the site, we called out and shouted for him looking all over the abandon trailer park. I think we all secretly knew were we would find him put were too scared to even entertain the idea in till all other options had been exhausted. Almost expected, outside the burnt down trailer where Ms. Sharp had lived there sat the pot. When we looked in it, flesh, bone, and the eyeless head of our friend and the local churned around.
We called the police as soon as we got a signal on our phones. The bagged up the stew confiscated our cameras around the site. After some intense questioning, they let us on our way and told us they would tell us if they find anything. We ended the trip and I called ahead to my pervious job and told them I wouldn?t be coming. The ride back was quite, our faces pale and our stomachs sick. It sounds horrible but I was somewhat thankful that Jacob didn?t have any family for me to break the news to.
When we arrived back home, Carson and Sarah asked if they could stay the night at my apartment. I sensed they were as frighten about being alone as I was, so I didn?t hesitate to say yes. I unlocked my door, tired and scared down to my core. I flicked on my lights, to find a small brown package sitting on my coffee table. I knew that shouldn?t be here as I had not given out my key to anyone. There was no sign of a break in. Cautiously I open the box, sitting inside was my missing handheld camera the one we thought Jacob had taken.
We plugged it into the T.V our suspicions confirmed as we saw Jacob and the missing local boy stumbling around the abandon trailer park. He was saying something but the audio wasn?t working. Ten minutes into the video Jacob begins running from something and the tape cuts out. The audio suddenly turns on again, and the camera is set on a table facing a sickening scene. The screams of our friend and the local boy could be heard, Hearing the chop of clever to flesh. ?In the stew? was being repeated over and over in a horrible voice. It was rhythmic and sickening, all of us unable to stop watching. I won?t describe what I saw, for it?s too unspeakable to mention.
Upset, we called the police that we had contacted in the town thinking they sent us the camera. When we asked them about it they said they did no such thing and had no records of the case that we were telling them. That there was never any murder and no investigation, they hung up and we haven?t been able to get through to anyone about this.
It was a small trailer park with the population of 42 back in ?71. I used to live there as a kid. It was hell there, my father working to jobs and living in a one bedroom trailer, he was good man always trying to get me out that place. That?s not important though, what is important is Myrtle sharp, or Myrtle the Shark as me and my few friends liked to call her. An old lady, a obese hag of sorts if you catch my drift. Ugly! She lived closest to the lake. You had to take a small narrow path to get down to it and on that the path sat her trailer. She was famous for being a hermit in a town amongst hermits, living off her famous road kill stew.
Any time me and my friends tried to sneak down to old SlumLake, god only knows why we would even want to. She would be sitting outside her trailer and threaten to put us in her stew if we went any further. At the time we took it as a offense and actual threat, what we didn?t realize was that she didn?t want us falling into the polluted water. Sigh* god we were such stupid children. As we got older and dumber, we began playing pranks on the poor soul, till one day a firecracker lit the trailer she lived in up in flames. She rushed out wearing her signature Muumuu on fire. She? She ran so fast that she broke through the barbed wirer that surrounded the lake and fell in. Scared, me and my friends never spoke of it, and nobody thought of much when she went missing.
A week later, Ms. Button a single mom awoke the whole trailer park one early morning to find that her son lil?Hunter was missing. He was found outside of Mrs. Sharps burnt down trailer. In a pot of stew, bones, flesh, and his head with two missing eyes were all that remained. We didn?t call the cops despite Ms. Buttons protest, it was a shame really the criminals and single parent with children that were token unlawful from custody battles were to scared to have the police snooping around. When I think back on it now, the cops wouldn?t have been much of a help anyways.
With each passing night the killings continued and increased, sometimes we would find a stew others times nothing. People in the park began accusing each other and when the population went form 42 only down to 16 within only two nights, my friends and father included. I left with the last 16 of us. I managed to walk here fifteen miles and got job here at this ol? gas station. I can see in your kids? eyes this only excites you, you?re welcome to visit it Slumlake. I given my warning though, I just wished you would take it seriously.
Part 2
I?m a paranormal investigator. I know, I know. Not exactly a field taken seriously. Truth is I spend most of my time debunking crop circles and local legends. Disappointingly to always find it was some college pranksters or something as lame as the wind blowing in the right spot, making me disrespected not only by regular people but by people in my own field too. Well not this one. I was on my to go investigate a run of the mill crop circle positive to find out it was just a bunch of pranksters.
Along for the ride, were a couple friends of mine. Carson, a budding writer on spring break hoping to get a good sci-fi story by coming along with me. Sarah, a conspiracy theorist who runs a blog on various things and was coming along for a story too. She wanted to expand a section on her site to include aliens. Jacob, who is an apprentice of mine of sorts, he was excited to get some field work in. On our way to the crop circle site, which was quite a ways out. We ended up stopping in a small town, pulling up to the one pump gas station I went over to a old man sitting in a rocker outside the store and decided to here his story. He told a fantastic legend about a place called SlumLake.
Ignoring his warnings, we marked on our map were the apparent location to this Slumlake was we the intent of heading out there the next day. Finding a nice little hotel to stay at we hunkered in for the night. Sarah was a little disappointed by this detour as it had nothing to do with Aliens. Since she was along for the ride though, and the rest of our group was ecstatic about going she had no choice but to allow our detour. We awoke around ten, packed up and headed out to SlumLake. On the way there, passing the gas station we could see the old man shaking his head disappointingly. A worried feeling washed over me as we began to near but I shook it off. Jacob?s excitement was enough to get me reinvigorate about the trip.
It surprisingly wasn?t hard to find. Just like the old man said, an abandon trailer park. Carson, whom always carried around a green little notebook, was writing down everything he saw. Most of the homes were unlocked. Some even had the doors wide open. Though run downed they still were full furnished. It was spooky and just the paranormal I needed to get my ?career? back on track. We eventually found the narrow path to the lake that the old man was talking about. As we traveled down the narrow path we came to a little opening with the skeleton of a burnt down trailer sitting in the middle of a lush little meadow. There wasn?t much there, the only thing that wasn?t burnt was a little kitchen with rusty cutlery lying about.
Carson was writing in his notebook furiously, pausing to look up every now and then and take in the disturbing scene. Jacob was taking pictures like there was no tomorrow, mumbling to him self. Sarah just stood there, with a worried and pale look on her face but said nothing. I poked around along with the others in till we decided to move to the lake. Just like the old man said, the lake was polluted. It smelt of decay and death, around was a barbed wire fence, and with a section of it pulled down like a large animal had ran through, just like he had said.
Jacob took his pictures once again, and Carson was writing and I was poking around in till it reached around four in the afternoon. We headed back up to the main site, only to stop by the burnt up trailer to find a bubbling pot sitting outside. The manner of the calm lush meadow always changed. It was dead quite and the absence of animals was clear. The meadow looked dead and dried up now.
When we went to look in the rusty bubbling pot, what we found was horrifying. Various bones, bits of flesh and heads of small animals slowly churned almost demonically in the witches stew. Carson, an animal lover vomited at the site and stench of it. Jacob took pictures and was almost sickly fascinated by it. The rest of us, feeling dread wanted to get out as fast as possibly before dark fall. We would have left as soon as we got to the car, but Jacob reminded me that this kind of stuff was my job. I managed to convince him that setting up some cameras around the site would be enough for today and we would return tomorrow.
We quickly set up the cameras as fast as possible and all piled in the car. I eased the key into the ignition, turning the key hard with my heart thumping. Startled by the engine starting, I let out a little laugh and so did the rest of my group. We quickly pulled out of the abandon trailer park as the sun was being to set in the background, Jacob being the only one to look back. We arrived at the Hotel, the innkeeper being some what surprised by our return. We were all a bit tired and drained form the whole trip and began unwinding our on ways. Jacob decided he wanted to go hit the local bar and we waved him off.
Carson was pulling out another notebook and writing once again, stopping every now and then to tap his pencil on his chin. Sarah, not so angry about the trip anymore, was tapping away on her laptop probably updating her blog and sharing her story. As for me I was reviewing pictures and writing down my own notes and hypotheses. As the night went on Jacob wasn?t to be found, sure that he would be returning later tonight in a drunken stumble we turned out the lights and went to bed. We all woke up early morning the sunlight lazily peaking through the windows. The first thing we noticed was Jacob wasn?t there. A handheld video Camera was missing form our car.
We asked around town if they have seen him, the bartender at the only pub in town told us. He told us that Jacob had convinced a local boy to drive him somewhere. We knew where that somewhere was immediately. Driving at dangerous speeds we made it to SlumLake in the matter of minutes. Arriving at the site, we called out and shouted for him looking all over the abandon trailer park. I think we all secretly knew were we would find him put were too scared to even entertain the idea in till all other options had been exhausted. Almost expected, outside the burnt down trailer where Ms. Sharp had lived there sat the pot. When we looked in it, flesh, bone, and the eyeless head of our friend and the local churned around.
We called the police as soon as we got a signal on our phones. The bagged up the stew confiscated our cameras around the site. After some intense questioning, they let us on our way and told us they would tell us if they find anything. We ended the trip and I called ahead to my pervious job and told them I wouldn?t be coming. The ride back was quite, our faces pale and our stomachs sick. It sounds horrible but I was somewhat thankful that Jacob didn?t have any family for me to break the news to.
When we arrived back home, Carson and Sarah asked if they could stay the night at my apartment. I sensed they were as frighten about being alone as I was, so I didn?t hesitate to say yes. I unlocked my door, tired and scared down to my core. I flicked on my lights, to find a small brown package sitting on my coffee table. I knew that shouldn?t be here as I had not given out my key to anyone. There was no sign of a break in. Cautiously I open the box, sitting inside was my missing handheld camera the one we thought Jacob had taken.
We plugged it into the T.V our suspicions confirmed as we saw Jacob and the missing local boy stumbling around the abandon trailer park. He was saying something but the audio wasn?t working. Ten minutes into the video Jacob begins running from something and the tape cuts out. The audio suddenly turns on again, and the camera is set on a table facing a sickening scene. The screams of our friend and the local boy could be heard, Hearing the chop of clever to flesh. ?In the stew? was being repeated over and over in a horrible voice. It was rhythmic and sickening, all of us unable to stop watching. I won?t describe what I saw, for it?s too unspeakable to mention.
Upset, we called the police that we had contacted in the town thinking they sent us the camera. When we asked them about it they said they did no such thing and had no records of the case that we were telling them. That there was never any murder and no investigation, they hung up and we haven?t been able to get through to anyone about this.
Just a little something I wrote up. Enjoy...
With love and fear -
Mcupobob.
The Slender Man meme reminds me of a story my great-grandmother (who we used to call tiny grandma, since she was Yoda-ish) used to tell about a monster named Long Jack. I know Slender Man was started on Something Awful, but certain images and aspects remind me of that old ghost story.
I should caution that I didn't actually hear the story first-hand. When I was little, we lived for a while at my grandmother's house while my parents were sorting out a divorce. My great-grandmother lived down the road. The power would reliably go out during big winter storms in those days, and tiny grandma would come over and we'd sit in the fire and wait it out.
The old folks would tell stories and read books. I was only four or five, so tiny grandma would only tell the story of Long Jack after I fell asleep. My older brother and cousins would tell it to me later.
Now, tiny grandma and the rest of us live in the Pacific Northwest, way out in the boonies. She herself was an infant when her parents brought her out west. They were homesteaders.
There's an old dageurrotype of her as a child, standing with the rest of her class in front of a one-room log schoolhouse. There are huge, old growth trees behind her and lots of dark shadows. It's still very gloomy in the winter months in the PNW, even though the trees are much thinner these days.
Long Jack, whatever he is now, was originally a person. I don't know his real name. In that time in history, families lived by themselves in the woods, miles away from each other. However, there were a lot of people coming and going (other homesteaders, people looking for logging jobs, prospectors on the way to a gold rush, etc.).
There weren't hotels except in the bigger cities, either. When you slept, it was either in your own camp or some courteous homesteader would give you a place to sleep. Maybe violent crime wasn't an issue back then, or maybe people were more naive, but the guy who would become Long Jack was a murderer.
There had been a great string of murders in the region; whole families were slaughtered. Sometimes Native Americans would be blamed, as there were still some isolated Indian wars going on, but it didn't really look like that. It looked like people were inviting someone in and he ended up murdering them in their sleep.
Obviously, detective work wasn't big back then. In any case, sometimes it would be weeks or months before they discovered the bodies. The killer would be long gone by then.
I don't know if this one guy, Long Jack or whatever his name was, killed all of them. He did kill at least one family, though, and was caught (literally) red handed near the town of Bellingham, where my family is from.
They used to lynch people in those days. Usually it was black people. In the PNW, where there weren't a lot of black people, it was more often Chinese or East Indian men. Occasionally they lynched white men, even though they had a proper court system at the time.
It was risky to do and the vigilatntes did risk some blowback, especially for lynching white men. The local sheriff, John Larrabee, led the murderer out of his cell at night and took him out of town with a posse to some cliffs a couple miles outside the south side of town. They built a primitive gallows with an extra long rope, with the intent to hang him off the cliff extra high.
The hangman that day was a local eccentric by the name of Dan Harris. They picked him because he was a retiard sailor and knew everything there was to know about ropes and knots. He volunteered for the job, too. As a sailor, he had specifally been a whaler and had a morbid fascination with flesh and how to disassemble and render it.
If the posse had known that, they probably wouldn't have taken him on for the job. Dan Harris didn't just put a noose around the condemned man's neck. He put small nooses made of cord around each of his fingers and at the end of each cord was a heavy lead weight.,/p>
Around each wrist was a length of rope with a heavy stone. At each ankle was a rope attached to even heavier shoes. The posse watched Harris do all this, but they did not know what he was doing. Even Larrabee didn't have the forethought to object.
It came time to hang the man and somebody in the posse finally pushed. The man fell quickly to his doom. The posse expected to hear the sharp crack of a breaking neck, but all they heard was the sound of counting, in Harris' low voice. He had tied the noose to strange, not break. 1...2...3...4...
They heard a loud crack, almost like a shot. 7...8...9...10... Then they heard another. It wasn't the man's neck, but his legs dislocating from his hip. 14...15...16... They heard more pops and cracks. His shoulders dislocating, then his elbows followed by his ankles.
21...22...23... Then his fingers dislocated at each knuckle, sounding a bit like popcorn. Choking grunts could still be heard coming from the man; he was still alive and conscious throughout this. 36...37...38... Harris' voice became louder as his audience became more enraptured in the spectacle.
When he came to 43, there was the loudest crack of all. The makeshift gibbet broke and the murderer, all the weights, and rope went tumbling down the cliff face. His neck and limbs twisted and flailed into impossible angles. In the darkness, they could barely make out his corpse at the bottom. It was a horrific sight.
His limbs had all been stretched to awful, fantastical lengths, all intertwined with the ropes and each other. It was too dark to retrieve the body and, by the next day, animals had gotten to it and carried it away.
This is where my great-grandmother comes in. They used to tell her the ghost of Long Jack haunted those woods, abducting defenseless people if they so much as set foot there. They said that he would count as he stalked up behind you.
1...2...3...4... She heard him once, as she walked the long distance home from school one fall afternoon. 14...15...16... According to the story, you couldn't look back or he'd get you. You had to run as fast as you could, and ran she did.
21...22...23... The counting continued. It was like he was whispering, but it was still getting louder and it seemed he was right behind her. 27...28... She could hear his footfalls; his pace was much longer than her's - longer than any adult's.
She could tell from the rhythm that his legs were impossibly long. His arms and legs must be bending in some unnatural motion. She got to the door of their cabin...37...38...and slammed the door shut. Silence. She knew that if Long Jack had gotten to 43, she would have died.
There were other kids that got lost in those woods those days and they were never found. None of the adults ever mentioned Long Jack, but she had her thoughts to herself.
So that's the story of Long Jack, as my great-grandmother told it...or at least as my brother and cousins re-told it. I don't believe in ghosts myself, but I always liked the story. I haven't found any mention of such a murderer in the local archives but, then again, I wouldn't really expect to. Some of the other historic names, though, do check out...
39...40...41...
I should caution that I didn't actually hear the story first-hand. When I was little, we lived for a while at my grandmother's house while my parents were sorting out a divorce. My great-grandmother lived down the road. The power would reliably go out during big winter storms in those days, and tiny grandma would come over and we'd sit in the fire and wait it out.
The old folks would tell stories and read books. I was only four or five, so tiny grandma would only tell the story of Long Jack after I fell asleep. My older brother and cousins would tell it to me later.
Now, tiny grandma and the rest of us live in the Pacific Northwest, way out in the boonies. She herself was an infant when her parents brought her out west. They were homesteaders.
There's an old dageurrotype of her as a child, standing with the rest of her class in front of a one-room log schoolhouse. There are huge, old growth trees behind her and lots of dark shadows. It's still very gloomy in the winter months in the PNW, even though the trees are much thinner these days.
Long Jack, whatever he is now, was originally a person. I don't know his real name. In that time in history, families lived by themselves in the woods, miles away from each other. However, there were a lot of people coming and going (other homesteaders, people looking for logging jobs, prospectors on the way to a gold rush, etc.).
There weren't hotels except in the bigger cities, either. When you slept, it was either in your own camp or some courteous homesteader would give you a place to sleep. Maybe violent crime wasn't an issue back then, or maybe people were more naive, but the guy who would become Long Jack was a murderer.
There had been a great string of murders in the region; whole families were slaughtered. Sometimes Native Americans would be blamed, as there were still some isolated Indian wars going on, but it didn't really look like that. It looked like people were inviting someone in and he ended up murdering them in their sleep.
Obviously, detective work wasn't big back then. In any case, sometimes it would be weeks or months before they discovered the bodies. The killer would be long gone by then.
I don't know if this one guy, Long Jack or whatever his name was, killed all of them. He did kill at least one family, though, and was caught (literally) red handed near the town of Bellingham, where my family is from.
They used to lynch people in those days. Usually it was black people. In the PNW, where there weren't a lot of black people, it was more often Chinese or East Indian men. Occasionally they lynched white men, even though they had a proper court system at the time.
It was risky to do and the vigilatntes did risk some blowback, especially for lynching white men. The local sheriff, John Larrabee, led the murderer out of his cell at night and took him out of town with a posse to some cliffs a couple miles outside the south side of town. They built a primitive gallows with an extra long rope, with the intent to hang him off the cliff extra high.
The hangman that day was a local eccentric by the name of Dan Harris. They picked him because he was a retiard sailor and knew everything there was to know about ropes and knots. He volunteered for the job, too. As a sailor, he had specifally been a whaler and had a morbid fascination with flesh and how to disassemble and render it.
If the posse had known that, they probably wouldn't have taken him on for the job. Dan Harris didn't just put a noose around the condemned man's neck. He put small nooses made of cord around each of his fingers and at the end of each cord was a heavy lead weight.,/p>
Around each wrist was a length of rope with a heavy stone. At each ankle was a rope attached to even heavier shoes. The posse watched Harris do all this, but they did not know what he was doing. Even Larrabee didn't have the forethought to object.
It came time to hang the man and somebody in the posse finally pushed. The man fell quickly to his doom. The posse expected to hear the sharp crack of a breaking neck, but all they heard was the sound of counting, in Harris' low voice. He had tied the noose to strange, not break. 1...2...3...4...
They heard a loud crack, almost like a shot. 7...8...9...10... Then they heard another. It wasn't the man's neck, but his legs dislocating from his hip. 14...15...16... They heard more pops and cracks. His shoulders dislocating, then his elbows followed by his ankles.
21...22...23... Then his fingers dislocated at each knuckle, sounding a bit like popcorn. Choking grunts could still be heard coming from the man; he was still alive and conscious throughout this. 36...37...38... Harris' voice became louder as his audience became more enraptured in the spectacle.
When he came to 43, there was the loudest crack of all. The makeshift gibbet broke and the murderer, all the weights, and rope went tumbling down the cliff face. His neck and limbs twisted and flailed into impossible angles. In the darkness, they could barely make out his corpse at the bottom. It was a horrific sight.
His limbs had all been stretched to awful, fantastical lengths, all intertwined with the ropes and each other. It was too dark to retrieve the body and, by the next day, animals had gotten to it and carried it away.
This is where my great-grandmother comes in. They used to tell her the ghost of Long Jack haunted those woods, abducting defenseless people if they so much as set foot there. They said that he would count as he stalked up behind you.
1...2...3...4... She heard him once, as she walked the long distance home from school one fall afternoon. 14...15...16... According to the story, you couldn't look back or he'd get you. You had to run as fast as you could, and ran she did.
21...22...23... The counting continued. It was like he was whispering, but it was still getting louder and it seemed he was right behind her. 27...28... She could hear his footfalls; his pace was much longer than her's - longer than any adult's.
She could tell from the rhythm that his legs were impossibly long. His arms and legs must be bending in some unnatural motion. She got to the door of their cabin...37...38...and slammed the door shut. Silence. She knew that if Long Jack had gotten to 43, she would have died.
There were other kids that got lost in those woods those days and they were never found. None of the adults ever mentioned Long Jack, but she had her thoughts to herself.
So that's the story of Long Jack, as my great-grandmother told it...or at least as my brother and cousins re-told it. I don't believe in ghosts myself, but I always liked the story. I haven't found any mention of such a murderer in the local archives but, then again, I wouldn't really expect to. Some of the other historic names, though, do check out...
39...40...41...
I almost shat myself!David_G said:
OT
ever heard of the creepy pasta wiki? cant be bothered to check it
http://creepypasta.wikia.com/wiki/Creepypasta_Wiki
Since nobody has put it up yet, allow me to add "Internet Story" from yesterday's thread.
http://vimeo.com/13780892
http://vimeo.com/13780892
Me and a mate recon that if Wilfred Owen were alive today he would definately be a heavy metal lyricistChamale said:
You know what works for many things? Sound.
Take away the sound and things are less frightening. I'm using this tactic to watch the videos. It helps me some.
Found this one by accident. Unfortunately, lack of sound does not help...
Take away the sound and things are less frightening. I'm using this tactic to watch the videos. It helps me some.
Found this one by accident. Unfortunately, lack of sound does not help...
If you want to see something disturbing, just go look up pictures of lotus pod photoshops on google >.< Ugh, some of them make you sick...
I just got into Marble Hornets. Got to the last released episode earlier today.
I'm typing this now because I'm literally losing sleep over it. And that never happens to me. I just DON'T scare. Scariest thing I ever saw was Amnesia: The Dark Descent, and that's only because it was immersive. It didn't stick with me after the fact.
I don't know what it is about Marble Hornets and ol' Slendy, but I can't get it out of my head. I'm sitting here with both lights on in my room, playing Fallout New Vegas for the first time and watching the Simpsons at the same time just to try and get my mind off of it.
It is without a doubt the scariest fucking thing I've ever seen.
I'm typing this now because I'm literally losing sleep over it. And that never happens to me. I just DON'T scare. Scariest thing I ever saw was Amnesia: The Dark Descent, and that's only because it was immersive. It didn't stick with me after the fact.
I don't know what it is about Marble Hornets and ol' Slendy, but I can't get it out of my head. I'm sitting here with both lights on in my room, playing Fallout New Vegas for the first time and watching the Simpsons at the same time just to try and get my mind off of it.
It is without a doubt the scariest fucking thing I've ever seen.
Meanwhile, that's just hilarious.LaughingAtlas said:
Who's up for Cupcakes?
Note: The quotation marks show up as question marks for some reason :/
The air was warm, the sun was shining, and all of Ponyville was having a glorious day. The town square was bustling and crowded. Busy ponies were making their busy way through the streets. All the pony folk seemed to have somewhere to be. All, except Rainbow Dash. Her place was in the sky. She freely tore through the air, speeding one way and the next. She buzzed the tree tops and raced the wind. The pegasus swooped over a schoolyard, much to the delight of the children. Climbing several hundred feet, she dove, going as fast as she could. Seconds before hitting the ground, her wings flew open and she took off back into the clear blue. Rainbow felt alive.
Then she remembered that she had somewhere to be; she supposed to meet with Pinkie Pie in five minutes. She?d gotten so caught up in her exercises that she nearly forgot.
Pinkie had asked Dash to meet her at Sugercube Corner at three. She didn?t say why or what they?d be doing, but Dash knew that with Pinkie, it could be anything. She wasn?t sure if she really wanted to go, though. She was so engaged with her stunts that she thought about blowing Pinkie off to continue flying. But, Dash?s conscience got the better of her. She knew that it would hurt Pinkie?s feelings; after all, she said it was going to be something special just for the two of them. She considered it and thought ?why not.? What did she have to lose? Heck, it might be more pranking. Pinkie might have found a bunch more fun stuff to pull off on folks. They?d so much fun the last time. Dash kicked it into overdrive, mostly to make for lost time, and sped to her appointment.
When she walked into the store, she was immediately greeted with her host bouncing in excitement.
?Yay, you?re here, you?re here. I?ve been waiting allll day.? Said the jumping pony.
?Sorry if I?m a little late, Pinkie. I was doing my afternoon exercises and lost track of time.? Dash apologized.
Pinkie giggled and responded, her tone gleefully reassuring, ?Oh that?s ok, you?re here now. What?s a few more minutes. I?ve been sooooo excited thinking about all fun stuff we?re gonna do, I haven?t stopped bouncing since I woke up. I mean, I almost forgot to breath I?ve been so happy.?
Dash gave a slightly uncomfortable laugh. She always appreciated Pinkie?s friendly, outgoing way of life, but her overabundant enthusiasm almost creeped her out. Dash was polite, however. If Pinkie was got this worked up, then it must good; whatever it was.
?So, you ready to get started, Rainbow Dash? I?ve got everything all ready.? The pink one said.
Dash psyched herself up. ? You betcha, Pinkie. You what do ya got planed? We gonna prank somebody? I got a couple of good ones I?ve been thinking about. Or maybe you got some stunts you think I should try? Or maybe??
?MAKING CUPCAKES!? Pinkie happily announced.
?Baking?? Dash was disappointed. ?Pinkie, you know I?m not good baking. Remember the last time??
?Oh that?s not a problem at all. I only need your help making them. I?ll be doing most of the work.? Pinkie explained.
Dash thought for about it for a second and replied, ?Well, alright, I guess that?s ok. What exactly do need me to do??
?That?s the spirit. Here you go.? Pinkie handed Dash a cupcake.
Dash was puzzled ?I thought I was helping you bake.?
?You will be. I made this one just for you before you got here.
?So, is this like taste testing or something??
?Sorta? Pinkie said.
Dash shrugged and popped the pastry in her mouth. She chewed a bit and swallowed. Not bad.
?Ok, now what?? Dash asked.
?Now,? Pinkie informed ?You take a nap.?
Upon hearing that, Dash felt lightheaded. Her world spun and ,seconds later, she dropped to the floor.
When Dash regained conciseness, she found herself in a dark room. She tried to shake her head but found that the taut leather strap kept it firmly in place. She struggled to move, but the braces around her chest and limbs glued her to the upright planks. Her legs were spread wide apart. The only part of her not tied down were her wings as the frame was backless. As she writhed, Pinkie jumped into her line of sight.
?Goodie, you?re awake. Now we can get started.? She gleefully stated. She was pushing a cart covered with a cloth.
?Pinkie, what?s going on? I can?t move!? Dash said in a worry.
?Well, duh, you?re tied down.? Pinkie chided ?That?s why you can?t move. I didn?t think you needed to told that.?
?But why? What?s happening? I thought you said I was going to help make cupcakes.?
?You are helping. You see. I ran out of the special ingredient and I need you to get more.?
?Special ingredient?? Dash was now breathing heavily and starting to panic. ?What special ingredient??
Pinkie giggled and responded ?You, silly?
Dash?s eyes widen, her face contorted in fear. Then she started to laugh ?Woo, really got me there, Pinkie pie. I mean, tricking me in to thinking I?m gonna get made to a cupcake. I gotta tell you, this the best prank yet. You win, you?re the best.?
Pinkie giggled even more. ?Aw, thanks Dash. But I haven?t done pranks today, so I can?t accept your praise. ?
Dash was struggling again. ?Pinkie, come on, this isn?t funny.?
?Then why were you laughing?? Pinkie grabbed the cloth and whipped it off the cart. The top of the tray contained various sharp medical tools and knives carefully organized and ready. There was a medicine bag and several other objects next to them.
Dash was now in full panic mode. She was starting to hyperventilate. Her mind was racing and she tried to reason with the pink pony. ?You can?t do this Pinkie! I?m your friend!?
?I know you are and that?s why I?m so happy it?s that I?ve got you here. We get to share your last moments together, just you and me.? She was skipping again.
?But, the other ponies will wonder where I am. When the clouds pile up, they?ll come looking for me and then you?ll get found out.? Dash was desperate.
?Oh, Dash? Pinkie said ?don?t worry, there are plenty of pegasus to take care of a few clouds. And besides, no will find out. I mean, how long do you think I?ve been doing this?? And with that the lights suddenly came to life and showcased the rest the room.
?Oh god, no? Dash reeled in horror at the image presented to her. The room was decorated with a typical but twisted Pinkie Pie flair. Colorful streamers of dried entrails danced around the ceiling, brightly painted skulls of all sizes were stuck on the walls, and organs done up in pastels filled with helium tied to the backs of chairs. The tables and chairs were made of bones and flesh of past ponies. Dash cringed at the center piece on the table nearest to her. The heads of four foals, their eyes closed like they were sleeping, wearing party hats made from their own skin. She recognized one of them as Apple Bloom?s classmate. Her eyes darted back and forth and then gazed up at the patchwork banner hanging from the rafters. Made from several pony hides, the words ?Life is a party? were scrawled in red.
Dash?s attention was stolen by a party horn unfurling and tickling her nose. She saw Pinkie Pie standing in front of her. The party pony was wearing a dress quilted from cutie marks. On her back fluttered six pegasus wings, all different colors. As she skipped in excitement, her necklace of unicorn horns loudly clacked together.
?Like it?? She asked ?I made it myself.?
Dash pleaded. ?Pinkie please, I?m sorry if I did anything to you. I didn?t mean it. Please let me go. I promise I won?t tell anybody.?
?Oh Dash, you didn?t do anything. It?s just that your number came up and, well, I don?t make rules. We can?t turn back now.?
Rainbow Dash was tearing up. How could this be happening?
?Aww don?t be sad Dash? Pinkie said ?Look this?ll cheer you up. I brought you a friend.?
Out of seemingly nowhere, Pinkie displayed a blue and yellow painted skull. It was about pony sized, but it had a very defining feature: a beak.
Dash was freaking out. ?Is?is that?.is?that??
??Hey, Dash lets hang together. These ponies are lame-os. Dweebs dweebs dweebs.? Pinkie mimicked. ?I caught her right before she left town. Remember when I left the party for about twenty minutes? That wasn?t enough time to play with her of course, I had to wait till after the party to do that. But boy am I glad I did. It was worth for the flavor alone. Griffons taste like two animals at once, it?s amazing. I know she didn?t have number like everyone else in Ponville, but when was I gonna get another chance to try a griffon. I hindsight, I probably should have asked where she came from so I can get more, but I forgot. I?ll tell you what though, she was quite the fighter. Lasted a long time, which was fun for me, I got chance to play with somebody other than a pony and try new things. It?s too bad she had such a potty mouth. She said so much bad stuff, I had to take her tongue out. You know, bad language makes for bad feelings, Dash.?
Dash didn?t have anything to say. She just sobbed and writhed.
?Well? Pinkie said, putting the skull down? that?s enough reminiscing, it?s time to begin.? She picked up a scalpel and walked over to Dash?s right flank. Without any flair, she placed the blade an inch above her cutie mark and started a circular cut around it. Her lungs working overtime, Dash shouted in pain and tried desperately to pull away. But the braces held her still. Finishing the incision, Pinkie grabbed the curved skinning knife from the tray. She worked it under the skin and sliced the hide away from the muscle. Dash ground her teeth as she tearfully watched as her flesh came off. Pinkie then moved to the other side and completed the other flank. Once she was done, Pinkie held up both cutie marks in front of her friend and started waving them like pompoms. Dash just whimpered. Her thighs burned.
Placing the skin down, Pinkie selected the large butcher knife and walked behind Rainbow Dash.
?Hope you don?t mind, I think I?m gonna wing it now. ? Pinkie laughed. She grabbed the left one and played with it for a second. Then, stretching the wing out, she brought the blade down at the base. Instantly, Dash screamed and thrashed her appendage. The movement threw off Pinkie Pies aim. She tried to hit the mark again but missed wide and put a huge slice in Rainbow?s back.
?Dash, you gotta stay still or I?ll keep missing.?
She took another whack and hit the target. She swung again and again, blood spraying into the air, but realized she wasn?t getting anywhere. The blade just wasn?t going through the bone.
?Hmm, I guess I forgot to sharpen it. I?ll try something else.? She stated as she tossed the knife over her shoulder; the blade embedding itself in the table.
The crying Rainbow Dash heard the sound of a metal box opening and closing.
?Got it! Say Dash, why do they call it a hack saw? It doesn?t hack; hacking is what I was doing with the knife. This is a saw. I don?t get it.?
Pinkie placed the tool over the last attempt. It effortlessly sailed through the bone and skin. The painful feeling of the teeth grinding biting into her made Dash want to vomit. She watched helplessly as her wing flew over her head and land with a fluff on the table. Pinkie moved the next and started sawing. Dash didn?t struggle this time; she?d given up trying to fight and just cried. Then the sawing abruptly paused. Pinkie was only half way done, the wing hanging off by only a sliver.
?Hey Dash? she piped up ?think fast?
Suddenly, she yanked the wing as hard as sure could. The bone snapped but the skin held tight. The pull ripped a long strip flesh down Dash?s back to her rump. The unexpected trauma caused her body seize. She felt the warm release between legs as her pelvis tensed up. Dash?s loud, unending melody of pain filled the room. Unable to catch her breath, she blacked out.
She awoke with a gasp. The stench of her urine filled her mucus caked nostrils. She saw a very pouty Pinkie Pie removing the adrenaline needle from her chest. Stomping her hooves, the frustrated Pinkie lashed out.
?Didn?t anybody teach you any manners? It?s very rude to fall asleep when somebody invites you over to spend time with them. How would like if I came over to your house and went to sleep. ?Oh I?m sorry Dash, you?re boring, I think I?ll take a nap.? You think I like always doing this by myself. I told you how excited I got when I found you were next. I was excited to have to a friend be here with me while I worked. But NOOOOO! You?ve got to be inconsiderate. You know, I thought you were tough, I thought you could handle anything. I?ve had foals stand up better than you. Do I have to baby you? Huh? Is that how you want me to remember you, as a baby??
She stopped to catch her breath. Dash blinked and softly cried. Her back was on fire.
Pinkie then popped something red into her mouth and began to chew. She noticed Dash was staring at her.
?What?? she asked. ?Oh this?? Holding up another piece. ?Well, while YOU were asleep, I got a little impatient and helped myself sample. I got it from your leg, you?re not bad. Wanna try some??
Without waiting for a response, she shoved the strip of meat into the revolted Rainbow Dash?s mouth. She immediately spit it out. Pinkie picked up. ?if you didn?t want it, you could have said no.? She then ate the discarded snotty morsel. ?It?s not like you haven?t had it before.?
Swallowing, she turned her attention to the small can on the tray. She removed the lid, revealing that it was filled with burning coals. Sitting on top of the fire were several large nails. Dash began to panic again. Pinkie picked up the can and walked over to Dash?s left. Carefully picking up a nail and grabbing a hammer, she positioned the spike at the seam between her leg and her hoof.
?No! Pinkie NO!? Dash screamed. ?NO! NO!?
The hammer came down and the nail punctured under her skin. The white hot burning was too much. Dash pulled and thrashed at the brace, her skin rubbed and tore. Pinkie tried to line up another one, but couldn?t find her aim. She let out a frustrated grunt. When she pulled the hammer back to take a wild swing, Dash burst out crying and begging.
?PLEASE STOP! PLEASE, PLEASE STOP!?
Pinkie rolled her eyes. Putting hammer back down, she walked back in front of her friend. She stared pensively at the broken pegasus. Gilda didn?t even cry this much when she stuck that live parasprite down her throat. Pinkie thought for a minute about what to do next. Then there was a sudden spark in her imagination. She grabbed the gear wheel on the rack and laid Rainbow Dash on her back. She moved to Dash?s hind legs, bringing the can with her. Pinkie picked up the hammer again and she drove a searing piece of metal into the bottom of Dash?s hoof. Dash screamed again: Pinkie put one into the other hoof. Next she located the small generator on the tray. Tying the copper wires to the nails, she gave Dash a wink and flipped the switch. Electricity rocketed through Dash?s body. The blue pony reacted immediately; body seized, muscles struck taut. Her hips thrust skyward and her eyes rolled back. She let out a deep, throat shredding cry. Pinkie giggled and danced in place. She turned up the juice. Dash convulsed uncontrollably. Her bladder emptied once more.
After about five minutes, Pinkie shut off the power. The area smelled lightly of cooked flesh and burnt enamel. She put Dash upright again and tried snap the delirious and drooling pony to back to attention.
?Dash. Daaash. Wake up.? Rainbow Dash managed to give her a modicum of weak acknowledgment.
Pinkie reached into the medicine bag and produced and large syringe. ?Alright, time for the last round?
Dash looked at the needle and Pinkie took that as a question as to what it was.
?Something to take the pain away? she informed as she walked around to Dash?s ruined back side. She stuck the needle into the lower part of her spine. Dash flinched.
Coming to the front again, she told her friend, ?In a few minutes, you won?t be able to feel anything below your ribcage. Then you?ll be able to stay awake to watch the harvest.?
Dash started to cry again. ?Pinkie? she trembled out.
?Yeah??
?I want to go home.? Dash openly sobbed.
?Yeah, I can see wanting to do that.? The party pony replied. ?Sometimes, I just wanna give up, say ?I?m done with this mess? and go to bed. But you know what; you can?t shrug off your responsibilities. You got to pull yourself up and meet the challenges head on. That?s to the only way you?re gonna get ahead in life.?
Dash cried.
Minutes passed and the drug took affect. Dash was numb from her chest to her flanks. Aware of this, Pinkie approached with her scalpel. With only a smiling glance to Dash, she made a long cut across her pelvis just above her crotch. Moving up her body, she drew a similar incision under her ribs. One final cut was made down her stomach, connecting the first two.
?Looks like I got my I on you, Dash.?
With a moist, gooey sound, the new door flapped opened. The sight of her own organs and the lack of feeling caused Dash?s breathing to intensify. Pinkie sliced open the abdominal sac and grabbed the large intestines. Separating it from the rest of the digestive tract and pulling them from the forming cavity, Pinkie was getting jovial and starting making jokes. Dash, growing weaker from the new source of blood loss, tried to shut out the comedy act. Pinkie was laughing.
?Look at me, I?m Rarity!? she said, slinging the tube around her neck and spreading blood in all directions. ?Isn?t my new scarf soooo pretty??
Reaching back in, she cut the smaller intestine off the bowls. Squeezing out the excess excrement, Pinkie filed it through her teeth and dragged it back and forth. ?Dentists say you gotta floss every day, Dash.?
Rainbow Dash was barely aware of what was going on anymore. The shock was causing her to fade. Pinkie got disappointed. Diving back into the guts, she ramped up her routine.
?Aw, don?t go yet Dash.? She started pulling out the rest of the organs, stopping at each one. ?I know I can be a real painaceas, but you know I?m just kidney with you. You really got to learn to liver it up. Boy, these jokes are getting bladder. Guess ya gotta develop a stomach for them.? She placed the discarded body parts into a bucket, keeping the last one for bit longer. ?Ooo, bagpipes.? she said, placing the tube in her mouth and the organ in her armpit. A spurt of acid hit her tongue. ?Eww. Oh hey, there?s your cupcake, Dash.?
Dash, didn?t hear her. She had slipped from conciseness minutes ago. Pinkie, not satisfied yet, hit her with another adrenaline shot. Dash woke up for the last time, her heart jumping. Her blood flowed out faster; it wouldn?t be long now.
Pinkie put Dash on her down her back and straddled her chest, scalpel at the ready.
?Ya know, Rainbow Dash, I?m disappointed. I thought you would have lasted longer. I really wanted to spend more time with you before we got here. But I guess it?s my fault, I should have taken it a little slower. Oh well, it was really was nice knowing you, Dash?.
The blade sunk into the blue one?s throat and worked its way up her chin. Coming back down, it circled around her neck. The last thing Dash felt was her skin being cut away from her skull, the metal scraping her teeth.
Then she was gone.
Pinkie Pie stared into the mirror. She did a really good job, even keeping the eyelids. She winked, Dash winked back. Pinkie smiled.
But still, she was sad that her friend was now gone. It only lasted fifty minutes, not nearly as long as she wanted. She looked back the cadaver hanging there in the center of the room, the last of its fluids draining in to the pan. Yup, no more Rainbow Dash.
Then Pinkie cocked her head. She was starting to take notice of the fact that there really wasn?t that much damage. ?It fact?, she began to think ?I think?.? An idea exploded in her head. She was good at sewing and she had all the pieces, all she had to do put her back together. Yeah, just get some stuffing and bingo, she?d have Rainbow Dash forever. In fact, that?s what she?d do for all her friends when their numbers came up. She was so excited, she skipped over to the body with the skinner to get started. The cupcakes can wait; Pinkie had a friend to make.
Silver Spoon suddenly woke up. She was on her back and couldn?t move. She couldn?t see. Where was she? Freaking out, she was just about to scream when the pony from the bakery appeared in front of her.
?HI!? she giggled
?Where am I, what?s going on?? The frightened little foal asked.
?Oh, well, you see, your number came up and I gotta make cupcakes.? Pinkie explained.
?W?wha?.what does that mean. What are you talking about??
?Oh, nothing. I wouldn?t worry it if I was you. It?ll be over soon.? She approached the girl, scalpel at the ready when a small voice called out from behind.
?Miss Pinkie, what are you doing??
She paused and turned to look at Apple Bloom. The yellow baby pony walked up to her with an angry look on her face. Silver Spoon started to feel relived.
?Ah can?t believe your doing this.? She pouted. ?you said this one was gonna be mine.
Pinkie apologized ?Oops, sorry about that, guess I got forgot. Here you go.? She handed the blade over.
Apple Bloom climbed on the table and stood over her prey. Silver Spoon tried to struggle. She stared in fear at Apple Bloom and her apron. The pink apron with a shiny tiara on it. Silver Spoon started to cry.
Apple Bloom grinned and open her mouth ?Hey, Silver Spoon, guess who gonna be a blank flank??
Then she remembered that she had somewhere to be; she supposed to meet with Pinkie Pie in five minutes. She?d gotten so caught up in her exercises that she nearly forgot.
Pinkie had asked Dash to meet her at Sugercube Corner at three. She didn?t say why or what they?d be doing, but Dash knew that with Pinkie, it could be anything. She wasn?t sure if she really wanted to go, though. She was so engaged with her stunts that she thought about blowing Pinkie off to continue flying. But, Dash?s conscience got the better of her. She knew that it would hurt Pinkie?s feelings; after all, she said it was going to be something special just for the two of them. She considered it and thought ?why not.? What did she have to lose? Heck, it might be more pranking. Pinkie might have found a bunch more fun stuff to pull off on folks. They?d so much fun the last time. Dash kicked it into overdrive, mostly to make for lost time, and sped to her appointment.
When she walked into the store, she was immediately greeted with her host bouncing in excitement.
?Yay, you?re here, you?re here. I?ve been waiting allll day.? Said the jumping pony.
?Sorry if I?m a little late, Pinkie. I was doing my afternoon exercises and lost track of time.? Dash apologized.
Pinkie giggled and responded, her tone gleefully reassuring, ?Oh that?s ok, you?re here now. What?s a few more minutes. I?ve been sooooo excited thinking about all fun stuff we?re gonna do, I haven?t stopped bouncing since I woke up. I mean, I almost forgot to breath I?ve been so happy.?
Dash gave a slightly uncomfortable laugh. She always appreciated Pinkie?s friendly, outgoing way of life, but her overabundant enthusiasm almost creeped her out. Dash was polite, however. If Pinkie was got this worked up, then it must good; whatever it was.
?So, you ready to get started, Rainbow Dash? I?ve got everything all ready.? The pink one said.
Dash psyched herself up. ? You betcha, Pinkie. You what do ya got planed? We gonna prank somebody? I got a couple of good ones I?ve been thinking about. Or maybe you got some stunts you think I should try? Or maybe??
?MAKING CUPCAKES!? Pinkie happily announced.
?Baking?? Dash was disappointed. ?Pinkie, you know I?m not good baking. Remember the last time??
?Oh that?s not a problem at all. I only need your help making them. I?ll be doing most of the work.? Pinkie explained.
Dash thought for about it for a second and replied, ?Well, alright, I guess that?s ok. What exactly do need me to do??
?That?s the spirit. Here you go.? Pinkie handed Dash a cupcake.
Dash was puzzled ?I thought I was helping you bake.?
?You will be. I made this one just for you before you got here.
?So, is this like taste testing or something??
?Sorta? Pinkie said.
Dash shrugged and popped the pastry in her mouth. She chewed a bit and swallowed. Not bad.
?Ok, now what?? Dash asked.
?Now,? Pinkie informed ?You take a nap.?
Upon hearing that, Dash felt lightheaded. Her world spun and ,seconds later, she dropped to the floor.
When Dash regained conciseness, she found herself in a dark room. She tried to shake her head but found that the taut leather strap kept it firmly in place. She struggled to move, but the braces around her chest and limbs glued her to the upright planks. Her legs were spread wide apart. The only part of her not tied down were her wings as the frame was backless. As she writhed, Pinkie jumped into her line of sight.
?Goodie, you?re awake. Now we can get started.? She gleefully stated. She was pushing a cart covered with a cloth.
?Pinkie, what?s going on? I can?t move!? Dash said in a worry.
?Well, duh, you?re tied down.? Pinkie chided ?That?s why you can?t move. I didn?t think you needed to told that.?
?But why? What?s happening? I thought you said I was going to help make cupcakes.?
?You are helping. You see. I ran out of the special ingredient and I need you to get more.?
?Special ingredient?? Dash was now breathing heavily and starting to panic. ?What special ingredient??
Pinkie giggled and responded ?You, silly?
Dash?s eyes widen, her face contorted in fear. Then she started to laugh ?Woo, really got me there, Pinkie pie. I mean, tricking me in to thinking I?m gonna get made to a cupcake. I gotta tell you, this the best prank yet. You win, you?re the best.?
Pinkie giggled even more. ?Aw, thanks Dash. But I haven?t done pranks today, so I can?t accept your praise. ?
Dash was struggling again. ?Pinkie, come on, this isn?t funny.?
?Then why were you laughing?? Pinkie grabbed the cloth and whipped it off the cart. The top of the tray contained various sharp medical tools and knives carefully organized and ready. There was a medicine bag and several other objects next to them.
Dash was now in full panic mode. She was starting to hyperventilate. Her mind was racing and she tried to reason with the pink pony. ?You can?t do this Pinkie! I?m your friend!?
?I know you are and that?s why I?m so happy it?s that I?ve got you here. We get to share your last moments together, just you and me.? She was skipping again.
?But, the other ponies will wonder where I am. When the clouds pile up, they?ll come looking for me and then you?ll get found out.? Dash was desperate.
?Oh, Dash? Pinkie said ?don?t worry, there are plenty of pegasus to take care of a few clouds. And besides, no will find out. I mean, how long do you think I?ve been doing this?? And with that the lights suddenly came to life and showcased the rest the room.
?Oh god, no? Dash reeled in horror at the image presented to her. The room was decorated with a typical but twisted Pinkie Pie flair. Colorful streamers of dried entrails danced around the ceiling, brightly painted skulls of all sizes were stuck on the walls, and organs done up in pastels filled with helium tied to the backs of chairs. The tables and chairs were made of bones and flesh of past ponies. Dash cringed at the center piece on the table nearest to her. The heads of four foals, their eyes closed like they were sleeping, wearing party hats made from their own skin. She recognized one of them as Apple Bloom?s classmate. Her eyes darted back and forth and then gazed up at the patchwork banner hanging from the rafters. Made from several pony hides, the words ?Life is a party? were scrawled in red.
Dash?s attention was stolen by a party horn unfurling and tickling her nose. She saw Pinkie Pie standing in front of her. The party pony was wearing a dress quilted from cutie marks. On her back fluttered six pegasus wings, all different colors. As she skipped in excitement, her necklace of unicorn horns loudly clacked together.
?Like it?? She asked ?I made it myself.?
Dash pleaded. ?Pinkie please, I?m sorry if I did anything to you. I didn?t mean it. Please let me go. I promise I won?t tell anybody.?
?Oh Dash, you didn?t do anything. It?s just that your number came up and, well, I don?t make rules. We can?t turn back now.?
Rainbow Dash was tearing up. How could this be happening?
?Aww don?t be sad Dash? Pinkie said ?Look this?ll cheer you up. I brought you a friend.?
Out of seemingly nowhere, Pinkie displayed a blue and yellow painted skull. It was about pony sized, but it had a very defining feature: a beak.
Dash was freaking out. ?Is?is that?.is?that??
??Hey, Dash lets hang together. These ponies are lame-os. Dweebs dweebs dweebs.? Pinkie mimicked. ?I caught her right before she left town. Remember when I left the party for about twenty minutes? That wasn?t enough time to play with her of course, I had to wait till after the party to do that. But boy am I glad I did. It was worth for the flavor alone. Griffons taste like two animals at once, it?s amazing. I know she didn?t have number like everyone else in Ponville, but when was I gonna get another chance to try a griffon. I hindsight, I probably should have asked where she came from so I can get more, but I forgot. I?ll tell you what though, she was quite the fighter. Lasted a long time, which was fun for me, I got chance to play with somebody other than a pony and try new things. It?s too bad she had such a potty mouth. She said so much bad stuff, I had to take her tongue out. You know, bad language makes for bad feelings, Dash.?
Dash didn?t have anything to say. She just sobbed and writhed.
?Well? Pinkie said, putting the skull down? that?s enough reminiscing, it?s time to begin.? She picked up a scalpel and walked over to Dash?s right flank. Without any flair, she placed the blade an inch above her cutie mark and started a circular cut around it. Her lungs working overtime, Dash shouted in pain and tried desperately to pull away. But the braces held her still. Finishing the incision, Pinkie grabbed the curved skinning knife from the tray. She worked it under the skin and sliced the hide away from the muscle. Dash ground her teeth as she tearfully watched as her flesh came off. Pinkie then moved to the other side and completed the other flank. Once she was done, Pinkie held up both cutie marks in front of her friend and started waving them like pompoms. Dash just whimpered. Her thighs burned.
Placing the skin down, Pinkie selected the large butcher knife and walked behind Rainbow Dash.
?Hope you don?t mind, I think I?m gonna wing it now. ? Pinkie laughed. She grabbed the left one and played with it for a second. Then, stretching the wing out, she brought the blade down at the base. Instantly, Dash screamed and thrashed her appendage. The movement threw off Pinkie Pies aim. She tried to hit the mark again but missed wide and put a huge slice in Rainbow?s back.
?Dash, you gotta stay still or I?ll keep missing.?
She took another whack and hit the target. She swung again and again, blood spraying into the air, but realized she wasn?t getting anywhere. The blade just wasn?t going through the bone.
?Hmm, I guess I forgot to sharpen it. I?ll try something else.? She stated as she tossed the knife over her shoulder; the blade embedding itself in the table.
The crying Rainbow Dash heard the sound of a metal box opening and closing.
?Got it! Say Dash, why do they call it a hack saw? It doesn?t hack; hacking is what I was doing with the knife. This is a saw. I don?t get it.?
Pinkie placed the tool over the last attempt. It effortlessly sailed through the bone and skin. The painful feeling of the teeth grinding biting into her made Dash want to vomit. She watched helplessly as her wing flew over her head and land with a fluff on the table. Pinkie moved the next and started sawing. Dash didn?t struggle this time; she?d given up trying to fight and just cried. Then the sawing abruptly paused. Pinkie was only half way done, the wing hanging off by only a sliver.
?Hey Dash? she piped up ?think fast?
Suddenly, she yanked the wing as hard as sure could. The bone snapped but the skin held tight. The pull ripped a long strip flesh down Dash?s back to her rump. The unexpected trauma caused her body seize. She felt the warm release between legs as her pelvis tensed up. Dash?s loud, unending melody of pain filled the room. Unable to catch her breath, she blacked out.
She awoke with a gasp. The stench of her urine filled her mucus caked nostrils. She saw a very pouty Pinkie Pie removing the adrenaline needle from her chest. Stomping her hooves, the frustrated Pinkie lashed out.
?Didn?t anybody teach you any manners? It?s very rude to fall asleep when somebody invites you over to spend time with them. How would like if I came over to your house and went to sleep. ?Oh I?m sorry Dash, you?re boring, I think I?ll take a nap.? You think I like always doing this by myself. I told you how excited I got when I found you were next. I was excited to have to a friend be here with me while I worked. But NOOOOO! You?ve got to be inconsiderate. You know, I thought you were tough, I thought you could handle anything. I?ve had foals stand up better than you. Do I have to baby you? Huh? Is that how you want me to remember you, as a baby??
She stopped to catch her breath. Dash blinked and softly cried. Her back was on fire.
Pinkie then popped something red into her mouth and began to chew. She noticed Dash was staring at her.
?What?? she asked. ?Oh this?? Holding up another piece. ?Well, while YOU were asleep, I got a little impatient and helped myself sample. I got it from your leg, you?re not bad. Wanna try some??
Without waiting for a response, she shoved the strip of meat into the revolted Rainbow Dash?s mouth. She immediately spit it out. Pinkie picked up. ?if you didn?t want it, you could have said no.? She then ate the discarded snotty morsel. ?It?s not like you haven?t had it before.?
Swallowing, she turned her attention to the small can on the tray. She removed the lid, revealing that it was filled with burning coals. Sitting on top of the fire were several large nails. Dash began to panic again. Pinkie picked up the can and walked over to Dash?s left. Carefully picking up a nail and grabbing a hammer, she positioned the spike at the seam between her leg and her hoof.
?No! Pinkie NO!? Dash screamed. ?NO! NO!?
The hammer came down and the nail punctured under her skin. The white hot burning was too much. Dash pulled and thrashed at the brace, her skin rubbed and tore. Pinkie tried to line up another one, but couldn?t find her aim. She let out a frustrated grunt. When she pulled the hammer back to take a wild swing, Dash burst out crying and begging.
?PLEASE STOP! PLEASE, PLEASE STOP!?
Pinkie rolled her eyes. Putting hammer back down, she walked back in front of her friend. She stared pensively at the broken pegasus. Gilda didn?t even cry this much when she stuck that live parasprite down her throat. Pinkie thought for a minute about what to do next. Then there was a sudden spark in her imagination. She grabbed the gear wheel on the rack and laid Rainbow Dash on her back. She moved to Dash?s hind legs, bringing the can with her. Pinkie picked up the hammer again and she drove a searing piece of metal into the bottom of Dash?s hoof. Dash screamed again: Pinkie put one into the other hoof. Next she located the small generator on the tray. Tying the copper wires to the nails, she gave Dash a wink and flipped the switch. Electricity rocketed through Dash?s body. The blue pony reacted immediately; body seized, muscles struck taut. Her hips thrust skyward and her eyes rolled back. She let out a deep, throat shredding cry. Pinkie giggled and danced in place. She turned up the juice. Dash convulsed uncontrollably. Her bladder emptied once more.
After about five minutes, Pinkie shut off the power. The area smelled lightly of cooked flesh and burnt enamel. She put Dash upright again and tried snap the delirious and drooling pony to back to attention.
?Dash. Daaash. Wake up.? Rainbow Dash managed to give her a modicum of weak acknowledgment.
Pinkie reached into the medicine bag and produced and large syringe. ?Alright, time for the last round?
Dash looked at the needle and Pinkie took that as a question as to what it was.
?Something to take the pain away? she informed as she walked around to Dash?s ruined back side. She stuck the needle into the lower part of her spine. Dash flinched.
Coming to the front again, she told her friend, ?In a few minutes, you won?t be able to feel anything below your ribcage. Then you?ll be able to stay awake to watch the harvest.?
Dash started to cry again. ?Pinkie? she trembled out.
?Yeah??
?I want to go home.? Dash openly sobbed.
?Yeah, I can see wanting to do that.? The party pony replied. ?Sometimes, I just wanna give up, say ?I?m done with this mess? and go to bed. But you know what; you can?t shrug off your responsibilities. You got to pull yourself up and meet the challenges head on. That?s to the only way you?re gonna get ahead in life.?
Dash cried.
Minutes passed and the drug took affect. Dash was numb from her chest to her flanks. Aware of this, Pinkie approached with her scalpel. With only a smiling glance to Dash, she made a long cut across her pelvis just above her crotch. Moving up her body, she drew a similar incision under her ribs. One final cut was made down her stomach, connecting the first two.
?Looks like I got my I on you, Dash.?
With a moist, gooey sound, the new door flapped opened. The sight of her own organs and the lack of feeling caused Dash?s breathing to intensify. Pinkie sliced open the abdominal sac and grabbed the large intestines. Separating it from the rest of the digestive tract and pulling them from the forming cavity, Pinkie was getting jovial and starting making jokes. Dash, growing weaker from the new source of blood loss, tried to shut out the comedy act. Pinkie was laughing.
?Look at me, I?m Rarity!? she said, slinging the tube around her neck and spreading blood in all directions. ?Isn?t my new scarf soooo pretty??
Reaching back in, she cut the smaller intestine off the bowls. Squeezing out the excess excrement, Pinkie filed it through her teeth and dragged it back and forth. ?Dentists say you gotta floss every day, Dash.?
Rainbow Dash was barely aware of what was going on anymore. The shock was causing her to fade. Pinkie got disappointed. Diving back into the guts, she ramped up her routine.
?Aw, don?t go yet Dash.? She started pulling out the rest of the organs, stopping at each one. ?I know I can be a real painaceas, but you know I?m just kidney with you. You really got to learn to liver it up. Boy, these jokes are getting bladder. Guess ya gotta develop a stomach for them.? She placed the discarded body parts into a bucket, keeping the last one for bit longer. ?Ooo, bagpipes.? she said, placing the tube in her mouth and the organ in her armpit. A spurt of acid hit her tongue. ?Eww. Oh hey, there?s your cupcake, Dash.?
Dash, didn?t hear her. She had slipped from conciseness minutes ago. Pinkie, not satisfied yet, hit her with another adrenaline shot. Dash woke up for the last time, her heart jumping. Her blood flowed out faster; it wouldn?t be long now.
Pinkie put Dash on her down her back and straddled her chest, scalpel at the ready.
?Ya know, Rainbow Dash, I?m disappointed. I thought you would have lasted longer. I really wanted to spend more time with you before we got here. But I guess it?s my fault, I should have taken it a little slower. Oh well, it was really was nice knowing you, Dash?.
The blade sunk into the blue one?s throat and worked its way up her chin. Coming back down, it circled around her neck. The last thing Dash felt was her skin being cut away from her skull, the metal scraping her teeth.
Then she was gone.
Pinkie Pie stared into the mirror. She did a really good job, even keeping the eyelids. She winked, Dash winked back. Pinkie smiled.
But still, she was sad that her friend was now gone. It only lasted fifty minutes, not nearly as long as she wanted. She looked back the cadaver hanging there in the center of the room, the last of its fluids draining in to the pan. Yup, no more Rainbow Dash.
Then Pinkie cocked her head. She was starting to take notice of the fact that there really wasn?t that much damage. ?It fact?, she began to think ?I think?.? An idea exploded in her head. She was good at sewing and she had all the pieces, all she had to do put her back together. Yeah, just get some stuffing and bingo, she?d have Rainbow Dash forever. In fact, that?s what she?d do for all her friends when their numbers came up. She was so excited, she skipped over to the body with the skinner to get started. The cupcakes can wait; Pinkie had a friend to make.
Silver Spoon suddenly woke up. She was on her back and couldn?t move. She couldn?t see. Where was she? Freaking out, she was just about to scream when the pony from the bakery appeared in front of her.
?HI!? she giggled
?Where am I, what?s going on?? The frightened little foal asked.
?Oh, well, you see, your number came up and I gotta make cupcakes.? Pinkie explained.
?W?wha?.what does that mean. What are you talking about??
?Oh, nothing. I wouldn?t worry it if I was you. It?ll be over soon.? She approached the girl, scalpel at the ready when a small voice called out from behind.
?Miss Pinkie, what are you doing??
She paused and turned to look at Apple Bloom. The yellow baby pony walked up to her with an angry look on her face. Silver Spoon started to feel relived.
?Ah can?t believe your doing this.? She pouted. ?you said this one was gonna be mine.
Pinkie apologized ?Oops, sorry about that, guess I got forgot. Here you go.? She handed the blade over.
Apple Bloom climbed on the table and stood over her prey. Silver Spoon tried to struggle. She stared in fear at Apple Bloom and her apron. The pink apron with a shiny tiara on it. Silver Spoon started to cry.
Apple Bloom grinned and open her mouth ?Hey, Silver Spoon, guess who gonna be a blank flank??
Note: The quotation marks show up as question marks for some reason :/
