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bizonul

12 years ago

The Witch

by ~bizonul1960

There was once, like no time, that I was not told it would be somewhere far away, in another world, on another planet, a very beautiful witch. http://www.ifame.co.uk/albums/alex/p3497 Lived on the outskirts of a big city, in a wooden cottage with a porch. Around the house planted flowers and pumpkins. Every day he went to the market to sell flowers. Once a year, on Halloween, pumpkins sold for the world to make their lanterns. http://www.ifame.co.uk/albums/alex/p3498#content That day I bought the biggest pumpkin. A few days before, had fallen frost and knew that after becoming frozen pumpkins are sweeter. I was going to make a pie and bak

Sin pride ! ( Blog contest)

Created: Thursday, 31. October 2013 Time 0:25. Everyone wants to leave a trace of his passage through life, some choose to have offspring, read more, others choose to do deeds that shall not be forgotten, good deeds or bad, but that talk now, while others need to imperishable trail through artwork. Of the latter I want to do my share, so I started to write a book, what book that is its subject does not matter now, the fact is that I want to stay forever that you think and feel. But while it may continue to be read by as many people so indicated is to be very, very good to have my desired success. Therefore, to achieve this desire, somewhat beyond a normal person, I turned to less conventional sources which libraries and archives digging had learned elsewhere. How and time was propitious juncture that the most powerful energy in the year, I do not choice but to execute what he wrote in a very old parchment photos you intrigued by his story. In short, she could not establish the age of the scientific method is ipregnat several times with blood and at different times. List owners acumdouă made hundreds of years, according to the last holder, ran a couple thousand years. Do not count them for me, I just wanted to be a successful writer, so I gathered the necessary sundown on 31/10/20 ...... I closed my room with express orders not to be disturbed any reason nor between one room, whatever happened. I reached down photocopy the middle of the room, and I drew lines around his text as requested in reciting the incantation. Then I pitched a Penitas I started writing on my skin magic words and signs. Pen tip penetrated deep into leaving meat cuts that blood began to flow. The pain was intense, like I'd patiently skinned but because it was to become the best writer. Before terminsemnele, weakened by pain and loss of blood, I fainted, but it was a loss of consciousness but rather a slip, a leak in which I woke up because the pain caused by wires all that was tied to a chair in front of a table filled with white sheets. I bind all demon grumbled unhappy and angry, pulling wire and supporting a seat back leg until it penetrated my skin and cut the flesh. Writing with pen on skin pain had an appetizer to what now endured. After making sure that I can not move only his right hand, he stuck a tube into a vein end of which terminates in a pen with the pen. The pain that flowed through the tube immediately covered the suffering caused by wires entering the meat, if I pour melted pitch through it. I felt my blood every vessel on fire and the fire gradually included muscles, organs and skin. As if it was not far enough pain, the demon took a saw and started to cut my skull cap. Each movement of the blade increase the suffering I yanked my head that make me feel like a light stroll through me. After the bone cut around, to put sharp claws cut and pulled. I felt the bone snap another explosion of pain as he nearly fainted but a demon inside the palm of my senses returned. I wanted to see and feel how my brain plunging directly into numerous tubes that descend from the ceiling and began to come a viscous black liquid. I immediately felt that I swell and stand to slap like a balloon but as in a dream I heard him telling me - Grab writing! I took my vein connected to the frame and started to fill the sheets in front of me. No matter what I wrote, my head explode writing ideas down on paper with my blood pressure if relieved of pain, and I've been writing increasingly becoming dizzy, until I lost consciousness from lack of blood .. ... When I opened my eyes I was in my room, fell over a lot of paper full of writing, erasures, notations between the lines. I pulled some clothes on, run over coagulated blood that flowed from the words scratched my skin and I went to the computer to transcribe pages filled trance. Never mind that my wife sat beside me with eyes full of tears, that I wonder what's wrong with me, I did a whole day locked in the room, I ignored it completely bent over the keyboard. No not at work I went, I had one thing in mind, to see and understand what I wrote. After two days, during which I slept only a few tens of minutes, and those split with his head on the keyboard, I was surprised to read the first chapter of a novel. It was the most amazing thing I read till then, was fluent style, the subject caught you at the first page, and the characters were excellently portrayed. I immediately wanted more, much more, and without taking into account the family and that there had been three days at work I again closed room full of gratitude that I will be better than all. I reworked the design and incantation after I resumed writing with pen on leather continuation magical words and signs but now the pain had become, it was a cold burn as the body gradually encompassed me until I slipped back to the table full of white sheets . No I have not sobered the chills that shake my body bound with wire and I got the demon hair and lifted my head saying -You lack the blood, you really need blood! I made a victim, you are ready to sacrifice to keep writing? -Yes! I replied without any hesitation, remorse or guilt. My conscience does not exist, all I wanted was the book and its success. The demon pulled a bag beside me struggling human form, took a tube and stuck the victim and the end to put in my mouth said to drink her blood. I pulled strongly and immediately came a wave of blood that I swallowed immediately. There had only two seconds to wait that the need written and published. I took my vein connected to the frame and started bedding down among the paper have not had that drink, or blood in me .... And I woke up in my room, walking in the midst of drawing the chest clutching a stack full of writing and drops of blood. Ignoring all the family begged me to say what I do, take care of me, I copied it into the computer and amazed by the beauty of reading the text of the second chapter. From home I gave out, the family was arguing with me feeling that something was wrong but I shrugged and lock me back into the room asking another demon and another victim. I went so snatch sleeping, eating only when I was on the verge of fainting, waive any communication and when I reached the last chapter I just happened to scribble signs and power to say the incantation. Shipped to my demon, tied to a chair, filled with festering wounds and pain, his voice trembling victim asked what I deserved but nobody was around. In front of me there was an angel of death, wings darker than hell, who untied me and led me to the pile of bags. With trembling hands I opened the first bag and I looked in there was my wife, I went to the next and I opened it I found my son, I went to the next and the next and the next ..... I sacrificed family friends, acquaintances, all that was of any value to me crazy sacrificed my dream to write a book and be the best. Hardened state and private, silent, mount the bags until the death angel took me there and put me back on the table. He plucked a feather from the wing and saw the top of it a drop of blood that left her bare fall on my brain. Immediately I was filled with frenzy and took frame carelessly writing me that he will drain the last drop of blood in my body. When I finished writing and put the final point, my head down on the table and I woke up in my room, but not in body but floating near the ceiling. I looked at my body collapsed in the middle of drawing, clutching at his chest last sheet covered with cuts and bleeding signs, now dry and filled with white worms, crawling, because the house was empty and thick dust and cobwebs covered everything. while I thought that I would be found by someone in a later, and that will take up the book, a whirlwind of fire lighting the began to absorb everything around me and bringing them back into the seat of punishment . Demon tied with barbed wire me this time and began to gather when I felt myself falling through and devour the whole, muscles, organs ... Watched serenely as meat from wire perceptibly heal, only regret was the best book ever brain was destroyed, and this was my punishment, to feel again and again endlessly durerileînfiorătoare ..... by Tonko Alexander

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bizonul

9 years ago

https://twitter.com/ASASD0130/status/642541447678287872

Check out @ASASD0130's Tweet:

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bizonul

10 years ago

Expressionism

Pictured: Edvard Munch - The Scream. A modernist movement originating in Germany, Expressionism sought to convey meaning or emotional experience rather than physical reality. A typical...

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[MV] Good Night By Rolling Quartz 롤링쿼츠 #KRock #GirlBand

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