Post by Hell's Keeper on Oct 30, 2010 3:48:46 GMT -6
“Legends of the unknown have always haunted our thoughts ever since humanity's existence. The not knowing what caused a glass to suddenly fall to the floor when no one was around. Strange voices coming from nowhere when you're home alone. Some of these events can be triggered by the kind of food we ate earlier, the mental state we're in, or simply the kind of horror cinema we saw that night. What if there are some things that do go bump in the night? Creatures reaching from beyond the abyss to get our attention and visit our realm that can't be explained.” Roxana stood in the woods, her head looked into the camera, as it fades into darkness, with the sound of howling echoing throughout the night.
Located in the San Francisco Bay, Alcatraz Island was home to many of the countries some of the most notorious gangsters up until the Island was shut down in 1963. Now it stands as a tourist attraction. People report that those of the dead still resides in the lonely cells block and that if you were to spend a night, you will hear the sound of cell doors slamming, voices of inmates long forgotten that reaching back to the land of the living to make you feel like you're never alone... especially when their dead. Welcome to Alcatraz. Welcome to Hell.
Alcatraz Island
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
He looked up as the moon reflected across the top half of his melon. Morrison had been confined inside a small locked cell for less than 15 hours, but he was determined to last the night. Nothing scared him. And with the rumors of the place being haunted only made the place seem like great to spend a few days. He glanced over at his wife, Roxana, who was guiding her knife down her wrist as a small amount of blood begun to travel out of the cut. She opened her eyes, and instead of a painful expression, she gave a grin and rested her head back against the bars. Keeper looked down at the blood, Roxana noticed and took her middle finger and scooped her own blood and tasted it before leaning forward again.
“What a perfect place to spend a few nights... If only it had a mini bar and a couple of college kids screaming off the top of their lungs. It would be devilishly.” Roxana said, she felt the coldness of her own blood as it dripped once more from her body and onto the hard floor.
“It's not a hotel.”
“I'm aware of–”
He interrupted Roxana mid-way through her sentence.
“It's a prison for the damned. A place that was designed for harvesting the souls of the dead from ever escaping. A place that allowed the so-called good men of the law to beat their prisoners simply because they could. I would have loved to been a cop back then in those days, I would have had lots of fun here. It's as if Satan designed it.”
“Won't you a cop once?”
“... Yes. That person is dead.”
“Speaking of dead, I wonder how long until they bring out their dead.”
All still seemed quiet within the famous prison. This started to bore Roxana, who would have given up the last thirty minutes ago, and they could have make themselves home at Patricia's home. It's not like she's there anyway but Roxana wanted something to happen ***damn it. You could tell it in her eyes. She looked at her watch and grunted.
“This is bull****!”
“****in' clam down. It's only just beginning.”
“**** you Eric, I didn't come all this way just so we could **** in a creepy ass prison for nothing. Pussy isn't free you know. I was expecting some Ghostbuster **** like all those other places we've visited and this one is just too ***damn depressing. What a big rip off! I bet my slutty ass sister is having more thrills then us... I ****ing hate you.”
“I must feed on their energy. Breadman is only days away from ultimate destruction and you want to play dress up little miss goth bitch with them. I made his partner feel the pure strength of evil. And I don't plan to stop until they both journey to Hell,” he said strongly.
“Why did he have to piss you off?!”
“Because he's dumb.”
And then, the invisible camera starts to focus on a cell door just down the hall. It starts to move back and forth slightly. It jiggle more faster... The air drops a few degrees colder... Suddenly, a series of cell doors slam on their own with Satan's Favorite Couple looking around.
“Welcome Home.”
Located in the San Francisco Bay, Alcatraz Island was home to many of the countries some of the most notorious gangsters up until the Island was shut down in 1963. Now it stands as a tourist attraction. People report that those of the dead still resides in the lonely cells block and that if you were to spend a night, you will hear the sound of cell doors slamming, voices of inmates long forgotten that reaching back to the land of the living to make you feel like you're never alone... especially when their dead. Welcome to Alcatraz. Welcome to Hell.
Alcatraz Island
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
BETWEEN A ROCK AND DAMNATION
Quarter Past Ten
Quarter Past Ten
He looked up as the moon reflected across the top half of his melon. Morrison had been confined inside a small locked cell for less than 15 hours, but he was determined to last the night. Nothing scared him. And with the rumors of the place being haunted only made the place seem like great to spend a few days. He glanced over at his wife, Roxana, who was guiding her knife down her wrist as a small amount of blood begun to travel out of the cut. She opened her eyes, and instead of a painful expression, she gave a grin and rested her head back against the bars. Keeper looked down at the blood, Roxana noticed and took her middle finger and scooped her own blood and tasted it before leaning forward again.
“What a perfect place to spend a few nights... If only it had a mini bar and a couple of college kids screaming off the top of their lungs. It would be devilishly.” Roxana said, she felt the coldness of her own blood as it dripped once more from her body and onto the hard floor.
“It's not a hotel.”
“I'm aware of–”
He interrupted Roxana mid-way through her sentence.
“It's a prison for the damned. A place that was designed for harvesting the souls of the dead from ever escaping. A place that allowed the so-called good men of the law to beat their prisoners simply because they could. I would have loved to been a cop back then in those days, I would have had lots of fun here. It's as if Satan designed it.”
“Won't you a cop once?”
“... Yes. That person is dead.”
“Speaking of dead, I wonder how long until they bring out their dead.”
I'M NOT THE ONE THAT'S SO FAR AWAY
Twelve O'Clock
Twelve O'Clock
All still seemed quiet within the famous prison. This started to bore Roxana, who would have given up the last thirty minutes ago, and they could have make themselves home at Patricia's home. It's not like she's there anyway but Roxana wanted something to happen ***damn it. You could tell it in her eyes. She looked at her watch and grunted.
“This is bull****!”
“****in' clam down. It's only just beginning.”
“**** you Eric, I didn't come all this way just so we could **** in a creepy ass prison for nothing. Pussy isn't free you know. I was expecting some Ghostbuster **** like all those other places we've visited and this one is just too ***damn depressing. What a big rip off! I bet my slutty ass sister is having more thrills then us... I ****ing hate you.”
“I must feed on their energy. Breadman is only days away from ultimate destruction and you want to play dress up little miss goth bitch with them. I made his partner feel the pure strength of evil. And I don't plan to stop until they both journey to Hell,” he said strongly.
“Why did he have to piss you off?!”
“Because he's dumb.”
And then, the invisible camera starts to focus on a cell door just down the hall. It starts to move back and forth slightly. It jiggle more faster... The air drops a few degrees colder... Suddenly, a series of cell doors slam on their own with Satan's Favorite Couple looking around.
“Welcome Home.”
To Be Continued.