Publish. Read. Get Read.
Random First Lines:This is my first piece I have decided to write about. The therapist says it will help. I am aware there will be punctuation mistakes but please... » Read
An original Gothic genre story.
I don't really know where this is going as of yet. I don't even know if i'll be continuing it.
If you think it's worth going on with, leave a comment (: â™¥
By the way. I've had people ask this before. The two main characters names are actually pronounced:
Ah - reeth - ay (Arithe)
this is a sample of my new novel that I'm trying to publish. I'd like some feedback and maybe tips on where I could get it published. And I also want to know if people will like it.
Im pretty sure you will get the idea
A poem explaining my inner thought and my cruel sadistic ideas. This is my first poem have over 1000 views. Enjoy!
Jack Thomas Salder, a doctor or a madman, sane or insane. will he be abel to keep his two identies seperate.
Authors Note: I will try to updated this atleast once a month.
This is a Prologue so no back story or summary will be given.
By Jade Marie Bray
What do you do when Death comes knocking on your door?
Song fiction to; Let The Bodies Hit The Floor by Drowning Pool. Content could be disturbing to some readers.
Comments are accepted not expected.
Three divisions, five people each, a fight to the death.
A very rich man named Alexei Romonov has bought New York city, and turned it into his own personal playground. He calls it â€˜Divisionâ€™. Itâ€™s separated into four different parts-each ironically called a division-with one...
Sadistic Sam is a short piece I wrote to compliment the devices of personification and metaphor. It in itself is plainly creepy, freaky, vulgar, and yet at the same time, exciting. Have fun reading! Hope you come back alive!
Short Story | Updated Jun 13, 2010 | Reads: 2 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 0
By Beautifully Flawed
I killed a man. So what? Let me tell you my side of the story.
Everyone faces a bit of doubt, a worry that may quickly lead to the demise of life. But why can we be so uncreative with our task of suicide, when our lives were spent trying to be individual?