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pedal as hard as you can, the car chokes its last belch and dies on the side of the road.

 

 

Woop Woop

 

 

 

 

 

 

You slam your forehead on the top of the steering wheel, hard, almost out of punishing yourself for not stopping at a gas station sooner. You reach into your pocket and pull out your cell phone, only to be greeted by a message informing you about how bad the connection is here. After declaring yourself an idiot, you open the door and step out into the darkness.

 

 

It's fascinating how different the roads appear at night. You ponder briefly on how you never noticed it before until you've seen it outside. With frustration, you walk to the back of your car and open the trunk. When you slam it, a shrill siren makes you jump. You then spin around and, with deep embarrassment, see a parked police car behind you, its lights on and engine running.

A feeling of elation washes over you as the friendly lights of the police car twirl on top of its hood. You take only a few steps forward before you realize how the figure inside the car isn't moving. You can't make out his features due to the blinding sensation of his lights, but you know that he's looking straight at you. You try your best to explain the situation to him, but the officer never exits the vehicle. He just continues to watch you as you become increasingly uncomfortable.

 

 

The only logical thing to do is to step back into your car. You know that you can't go anywhere with it, but you can't decide whether he's here to help you or scare you. As politely as you can, you stroll back into the driver's seat and slam the door behind you, swiftly locking the doors as you enter. You see him in the reflection of your rearview mirror and sit motionlessly, waiting for his response. The figure still sits there, however. As you try your best not to focus on the lights surrounding him, their movements almost make you believe he shuffled in his seat. It'd been like this for a whole thirty seconds.

 

Instinctively, you want to run away. Looking out into the pitch black night, you note how well you could disappear into the dark, but then quickly realize how easy it would be to get lost. You look up at your rearview mirror and are greeted to a silhouette of a figure standing in front of his car, lights shining all around in a glow that sucks all distinguishing features from his body. Panicking, you try to start the car, but nothing can bring it back to life. As you do so, your eyes are fixed on the figure in your mirror.

 

Then, almost in a dream-like sense, the figure begins to push his body through the back of your car. He passes through the trunk without even moving the vehicle around, but you can't tell for certain as you rock the car in your feverish attempt to exit the vehicle. With his head barely visible poking through the cushions of the back seat, you fumble to unlock the doors. They jam, to your horror. You kick at the door, even throwing your weight against it, but you realize it's too late. With incredible force, you are pulled into the backseat. Kicking and screaming is your only means of escaping its grasp.

 

 

The last thing you see is a face in the rearview mirror. It's yours; your mouth is twisted into an expression of deep terror and your eyes, swelling and red, look back at you. You can't tell if you can see the face of the figure. Everything goes black before you get the chance to look.


Written by MooseJuice 

I've been trying to kill myself for 3 years

 by  TheBigSp00k

 

 

Gritting my teeth, I felt every vein in my body bursting with blood. The sound of my heartbeat was pounding in my ears as if amplified by headphones. Angrily, and for the 200th time, I put the gun to my head; resting the barrel in a waterfall of sweat that seemed to run endlessly down my temple. Drawing the hammer back, I exhaled dramatically with my lips parted as if I was blowing out a candle.

 

 

 

"BANG!!"

 

 

The smoking gun dropped to the floor and my eyes stayed fixated on the purple and blue blend of cheap carpet flooring of the shady motel room. Glued to the same square inch of fabric I've been staring at for longer than I could remember. Closing my eyes, I could feel the warm liquid running down my cheek bone and dripping off of the corner of my upper lip.... It was only sweat.

 

 

I've been trying to kill myself for about 3 years now. Sound depressing? Try being unsuccessful 1,810...no 1,811 times. Any way you could imagine: knives, guns, jumping from buildings, you name it. Either nothing happens...like literally, NOTHING happens, or I just wake up alive and well. Fully intact. Whether I sever an arm, blow my brains out, cut my wrists, I just can't seem to die.

 

 

It all started when I was 15. My mother never spoke of my father. I've brought it up a few times but she always managed to divert the subject. I don't even know if she even remembers how I was conceived. As a child I was diagnosed with a disorder: congenital insensitivity to pain. This means that I cannot physically feel any pain. No matter what the circumstances are, I could have broken an arm and I wouldn't even notice unless I saw it in front of me.

 

 

 

After this conclusion, I came to test my physical capabilities. My pain threshold was non existent, limitless. I'd get into all kinds of trouble with this knowledge. One day as a teen I made the wise choice of trying to scale this under construction high rise building, just to see if I could. About 5 stories up, my foot slipped which caused my to lose my grip on the infrastructure. Plummeting to my doom, I land hard, face down, on a pile of scrapped rebar. The I inch wide steel bar broke through my sternum and clean through my torso.

As if it never happened I rose from the ground and removed the piece of steel from my chest. Without even a second to glance, I looked down at my entry wound to notice it was absolute gone. Not even a scar. Any normal human would've died upon impact or at least lay there, bleeding out.

 

The impact it made on the rest of my life was monstrous. From then on I tested whether or not I was even capable of dying... It was impossible. I wish I never new this, I wish that right then and there my life would be over and I wouldn't have to experience this curse.

I've yet to understand why I'm incapable of death. I've been stuck in this endless loop of mortality. Maybe I have some sort of purpose, maybe there are others like me.

 

I started to do a lot of research online. There were a hand full of people who had a similar disorder to mine. None of them, however, stated that they could not die.

 

My mother is very religious. I always wondered why she was so up tight, though. Once I spouted out to her that she needed to get laid and she only stated:

 

"I'm saving myself for marriage."

I always found this funny cuz how in the world was I here, then? For a while I just thought maybe she was a born again Christian and refused to participate in those sinful acts ever again.

 

As a child I would pass by my mothers room and hear her speaking in tongues. To me it all sounded like mindless gibberish but when I listen close enough, I can swear I hear her throwing around my name.

 

I've always had this reoccurring dream. It would start with my mother in a white dress, holding hands with a man. I always thought this man may be my father. The odd thing about it is that he would have the body of a human, but from the neck up it would be the head of a reptile. This half snake man appeared in a lot of my dreams. Whenever he'd show his face I'd just get this funny feeling that I knew him.

 

This morning I started using google to find any relevant dreams to mine or even explanations of who this man serpent is. I came across this religious article. It read about how the devil walks among us on earth. He is ready to bare his firstborn son, the antichrist.

"When thy sins of the mortal world have came to overpower the remaining light. Lucifer, will embrace. The earth will break open and hellfire will rise from the ground"

 

The hair on my neck was standing straight up. I proceeded to read with more persistence.

"Our world as we know it will be ruled by demons. The manifestation of a demon in mortal form born into this realm is the only passage from their world to ours."

 

My blood went cold. I proceeded to read his words carefully. The one part that stood out to me the most was:

"Thy mother, a virgin, dedicated to Christ. She will carry the seed of the antichrist. Thy father, Lucifer, a serpent."

 

The Would-Be Killer

 by  TitaniumLady

 

The intent was there.

 

 

I had known for a while that she had been cheating on me. A few weeks ago, my best friend had seen her out with another man. I didn’t believe him, not at first, but it’s hard to disregard infidelity when you’re shown photographs of your fiancée kissing a stranger.

I was patient in my revenge. She needed to be removed, scrubbed out from the world like the cheating stain that she was.

Yesterday evening presented the perfect opportunity. She came home from “work” complaining of fatigue, so I suggested that she run herself a nice hot bath. I waited ten minutes, more than enough time for her to pour a glass of wine, strip, and lower herself into the tub.

 

 

 

I’ll never forget the way she looked when I knelt beside the bathtub. She was lounging back in the water, her pale hair sighing softly on top of the water and clinging shyly to her neck. She was holding a wine glass in one hand, blue-nailed fingers delicately encircling the slender glass stem.

 

I’ll never forget the soft part of her lips as I clenched my own fist to her

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