Scary Stories

Actually, in my last post, I attempted to start a new story, and it would seem everyone was trying to end the previous one. Except for Arthgon, who attempted to continue the previous story.
New story?

Hello. Surprised to be talking to me? I know I'm a dog right now, but I wasn't always this way. You see, it all started last year, when my sister died...

 

She always thought she knew what was best for me, what was best for the both of us really.

 

She hid her illness from everyone, me most of all. On her deathbed, she told me, "It's not as it seems...the heavens have turned on us, everything will change..."
She fell into a coma and passed peacefully two days later. I chalked up what she said to a fever-driven delirium. It was only in the following weeks that I even began to understand what she meant.

 

Few days later while I was sorting out her belongings a phone call came from her solicitor. He told me that last year my sister had made a will.

 

Then he died.

 

He didn't die quietly. Rather loudly, in fact. As I spoke to him regarding my sister's will, he excused himself and covered the receiver with what I'm assuming was his hand. Then, I heard the screaming; at first muffled through his flesh, and gradually fading after the phone fell from his grasp.

 

After the solicitor haunting death-screams dwindled to croaks and rattles, I heard finally silence. Fearing for the worst of my old friend, I dropped the receiver and ran to the nearest cab. "Driver. Take me to Carson and Carson Solicitor's office. Quickly!"

When I arrived there, I saw that a crowd has formed in front of the office, wondering where the horrible screams came from. I opened the door of the cab and ran towards to the crowd “Let me through. I need to get in.” I yelled.

Edit: Fixed grammar.

 

I tripped and fell. It was very embarrassing.

 

However, the sight of blood on my person got people who were previously too distracted to pay attention to me to part as if I had some power over crowds. As I entered the offices of Carson and Carson, I was met with a horrible stench. People were, I hoped, simply unconscious on the floor.

 

I took a step forward and tripped over a body.

 

This thing I tripped over wasn't even human...at least, I didn't think so at the time. I kept moving forward, hoping to find the office of my sister's late solicitor, when a shattering realization hit me; He never told me his first name. Sure, there were only two of them, but in an odor this powerful, I was already lucky to be standing. Not to mention the ridiculous amount of corpses on the floor.
I could hear something walking down the hallway around the corner. It's true that I always carried a pistol, but there was a sense of dread welling up inside me from those hidden footfalls, and I wasn't entirely sure a gun would stop it. I waited for whatever it was to round the corner, with my weapon's safety off, and my finger on the trigger.

EDIT: Zanza, you're not going to get her back. I can't replace the void left in your heart. But you know what? It's not your fault.

 

I have changed the physical aspect of the unnameable thing. But what should I do?

 

I personally think it may be too soon to reveal an abomination in the story, as it's only been a few days. Some random deaths and a bad odor, sure. The first line of the story establishes it's been a year since the guy's sister died, and now somehow he's a dog. Probably would've been better off if I didn't attempt to tie in the trolling with the story, because it took a dark turn far sooner than I wanted.

 

Alright, considering I wrote the first line of the current story, and I began the thread, I actually have some say in how "rapey" the whole thing gets.
Nothing that was written after Zanza began trolling actually happened in the story. The solicitor isn't dead. It honestly would've been ok if there hadn't been a tentacle monster raping the protagonist. But, I liked Japes' post. Despite the protagonist passing out from injected narcotics, it was more dignified than him having realized he was enjoying being raped by an eldritch horror. If it was done better, and chronologically later in the story where more things that were pretty damn weird would naturally be happening, I think I wouldn't be so disappointed. My reasoning? The protagonist was freaked out due to hearing someone's death over the phone. He was more freaked out to find there were (hopefully) unconscious bodies lying all over the solicitor's office. If someone with less rape on their mind had posted, I would assume they had the sense to either make a lone survivor, battling the stench, or a deranged murderer who would leave a cryptic clue. Or something. For one, I was building the protagonist's sense of paranoia, and there would either be a payoff validating his fears, or a sigh of relief in that, despite the chaos in the building, at least someone was able to tell him what happened. But no. Rape. Followed up by a tag-team of rape. Then a reprieve. Then more rape that was actually happening, accurately predicted by the previous rape-dream. What the flying ass crack is wrong with you? I moved the damn thread, because it was "in the wrong forum (despite this being Collaborative Fiction, which pre-dates role-playing games)," and you acted like it was ok then. But heel-face turn later, you're trolling my damned thread again. This time, with rape. At least the first time I saw you do it, the person at the receiving end had left the forum before you raped her character. Me? I'm right here. You ass. Go buy a fleshlight.
Oh, and by the way, since everyone plays the narrator, you effectively raped yourself, as well as everyone contributing to the story.

 

And thus, help appeared. Let them write their stories in peace, everyone. Troll in the GD, if you must. Off topic posts after this one won't be appreciated. It took 20 damn minutes to clean this up. That's 20 fucking minutes I could've been perusing porn sites, looking for tonights nut buster, but instead I'm cleaning up after you foggets.

 

In my most peculiar dreams I would have never had expected to see what rounded the corner. It was myself, only not myself; something about the look in its eyes told me it was a creature much stranger, and much worse. It was covered head to toe in blood, with the the majority of the blood found around the neck of the shirt he - I - was wearing. In a moment something dawned on me about those blood patterns - had it been eating? I felt overcome with nausea; at least I thought to myself it was probably this thing that had killed my late acquaintance No-Name Carson.

With a voice exactly as my own, and yet full with malice and hateful humour, the thing said, "Hello there."

PS: I'm sorry about trolling, but with all the exciting tentacle rape I got caught up in the moment, I'll be good now and only post up things relevant to the story. I know Arthgon was chided for having an abomination too early in the story, I didn't think a doppelgänger was in the same league but if it is too much I can edit it out and put something else - maybe his dead and zombie like sister might be more fun?

 

Personally, I think it is still too early to unveil the creature/killer. It would be better if the character first finds all the clues that will lead him to the perpetrator. After that, he maybe concludes that the culprit is not human.

Before I could respond to the situation at hand, It was already gone. What could it have been? Perhaps it was an illusion created by the dark atmosphere that prevailed in the building. After I had recovered from the shock I went to the office of the solicitor of my sister.

 

Seeing your own doppelgänger is supposed to portend your own death anyway, even if he did just imagine it it adds a macabre note.

Past his oak deak I could see that his swivel leather-backed chair faced away from the door; from the way it was at a slight slant I could tell that it still had an occupant. "Hello?" No answer. I decided that before I was to look upon whatever lurked in the chair I'd seek out my sister's will - if what was sat there was half as horrible as what haunted my imagination I might not be in a sound mind to look for it afterwards. There was a filing cabinet next to the door where from previous visits I knew the lawyer's documents could be found. I began to take a peak into the top drawer that would ordinarily have in it my sister's legal dealings. It had been left open slightly - or something had already gotten into it...

 

I searched the open drawer for anything related to my sister. I found the burgundy-stained file folder, but when I checked inside, there was just one page. The last page, actually. It said that I was to be given a mysterious book she found. It went into further detail, saying that she couldn't make heads or tails of what was inside, save for a few random notes, but she felt that, due to my scholarly background I might have better luck. Then, at the bottom of the page, scrawled in blood, there was a note;
TIME IS RUNNING OUT
The blood was still moist.

 

TIME IS RUNNING OUT. What was the meaning behind this cryptic message? A dire warning? Finding the whereabouts of this mysterious book was easy. One portion of the page told me that it lies in the well-protected safe of The States Bank. The key needed to open the safe, was in the hands of my sister’s solicitor Carson.

After I have searched the office, I concluded that it must have been lying on the body of the late Carson, who lies very still in his swivel leather-backed chair.