Core
This message is my map, and this map is my message.
The earth here is thin. I move about it so freely, and the ease of it is a delicious thing, but it is also frightful. I dig my inscriptions by feel and touch, and because I know the earth, I know that this will be massive for your senses.
Here in this layer of the planet, I am inbetween my people and your people. I float about in this soft soil like a drifting bubble, weightless and yet handled so delicately within my surroundings that my fragile dome will never burst. I am fit to drift along in euphoria. I would do this forever, if granted the chance, but I have responsibilities to my people, and to our Mother.
If I were to glide about, dreamlessly, in this infinite expanse of softrock, a few fathoms beneath your manmade pave-veins, I would lose myself in the arms of Mother, and she would love to have me lost. That exquisite moment will not arrive until your end-time comes. For now, I must finish the task I have been chosen for by our matron. She was born from the hardrock and the fire at the very core of Mother, and so I cherish and love her for choosing me to finish this map for our people.
If I were to abandon my quest and return home now, I could be in the heartfire of earth within two of Mother’s circles. Perhaps that holds no meaning for you, but because I have lurked just beneath the pave-vein in your greatest den and homestead of New York City, I know that the word I must use is “years.” You measure your core by a finite passage of time in units. We measure ours by Mother Earth herself, as you once did before in history, before you created the deathly grid and thought yourselves too intelligent to honor Mother. This is what saddens her, and this is the cause of the war between my people and your people.
It has taken me over one thousand of your years to reach the earth just below your pave-veins and grids of softrock. At first, I did not understand, and I would glide along through the thin places as your slow moving metal boxes with the rubber feet would adhere to the limited paths that you have provided for them. They are lumbering beasts, unable to dig, deaf and dumb constructs that are reflective of their creators. I do not pity you, because if you had used her gifts the way they were meant to be used, you would be as my people are now.
I traveled up from the heartfire at the core, and I learned your grid. I have traveled it, mapped it, and meticulously crafted the crooked places above the soil. They are illogical. Why you take the softrock from Mother’s ample womb and move it to create your own veins is beyond me. It is disgusting, and it gives me more purpose to fulfill what the matron has sent me to your thinplace for. Mother’s veins are designed to be flowed through, to be embraced and traveled as they were created. What you do to her is an abomination.
We hear her soft whimpers at night when we try to sleep, and it pains us. The core of fire at her heart is our resting place, and now it is plagued by the agonized wails of the planet. She hid her grief and pain from us, but the noise was too great for us to sleep. You have made us restless.
It took time for us to coax her in to revealing the source of her sorrow and anguish. That source is you and your people. You have assaulted the most beautiful of beautiful things, and for this, we hate you. You have brought this on yourself.
By the time one of your geologists finds this long message, riddled throughout the endless tunnels and archways within Mother that I have dug, it will be too late. The map is already almost finished. What I dig now is only superfluous to our real motivations. I dig this message now to provide an explanation, a reason for what we are about to do. We feel that we do not owe you this. Mother feels differently, despite her scars, and so we honor her wishes.
The dig from the core has been long. When I first began in the expanses of hardened molta, I moved slowly. Her screams chased me through the trenches of stone and furious flame as your years passed, and you continued to wound her further. Her pain was my pain, and so my progress quickened. Feeling the shudders of Mother, she caused me to burn bright, to blast through the hardrock and reach the thin places where I can move like one of your bullets.
The number of trenches and veins that I have burned through her is incomprehensible to your kind. They are all pathways for my people to travel from the core of fire to your thin place. I have mapped her for them, and so they need only unleash our message to you in the boughs of the clouds. You will see the sky burn as bright as our home at her center, and all of you will perish.
It will take us some time to overgrow your atrocious pave-veins with our earth, but we will help her. We will blast them in to oblivion as easily as we will blast from the map beneath your beasts on rubber. We will reap the cause of her pain away in one ascending windfall, and then her wails may soften. Eventually, she will be gleeful and throbbing with life once more, and we will fall fitfully asleep, as we should be now, if it were not for your people.
This map is my message, and I am growing tired of your thin place in the crust beneath your metropolis dens. They are an affliction on Mother’s perfect face, and because you have marred her beautiful cheeks with her own tears, we will rend you with the very fire that we were born from.
–
Credited to Violent Harvest, who also deserves some congratulations!
It’s lyrical and beautiful, but I wouldn’t call it scary, or even creepy. I’m just curious what the being telling the story is; a magma bulb, perhaps? Maybe I’m inured to threats from unknowable inhuman entities by now; maybe I always have been.
Sounds like the Chtonians are pissed…
I trailed off, it was the same thing over and over again. coldpasta.
10/10.
Absolutely amazing. VH, this might be the best pasta you’ve ever written.
This pasta is dildos
Violent Harvest, I am dissapoint
Thanks to all of those who take the time to read this website. Sometimes stories are hit or miss, and everyone likes something different…. but even if your criticism is harsh, I am thankful that you took your personal time to examine something that I, or some other author on this website, in fact, created.
Oh, and krepta, to answer your question, I pictured the protagonist as a very small and persistent ball of fire. As it digs upward, closer to the surface where the planet suffers greatest, it begins to grow in stature and burn until it appeared in my mind as a sort of pissed off “phoenix” type thing that wanted to burn New York to the ground.
That image pretty much compelled me to write this in one sitting, and although I agree it’s not the conventional sort of creepy, the general thought or idea that Mother Earth could employ a different sentient being to hold human beings accountable to her intrigues me.
i think it was (mostly) pretty well written, but it wasn’t creepy. i felt like terms like “pave-veins” and “softrock” detract from it a bit because it isn’t clear what they are and the pasta isn’t long enough to explain them all. i thought it had an interesting plot though, that there are entities living in the earth’s core tht are ANGRY at us.
BUT WHO WAS MOTHER?
Yeah, those terms are pretty vague, I agree, but when you put it in the perspective that this thing is not human and doesn’t communicate in terms of the upper world, “veins” and the thickness of the earth are the only finite measurements of their existence. I coined the terms deliberately to try and demonstrate the difference between a being that communicates by burrowing through the earth, rather than one that communicates with a keyboard or pen and paper. This was an experiment in the oblique and abstract for sure. Thank you for the feedback.
BUT WHO WAS VOLCANO??
I loved it. Very well written VH.
Fail personificated-earth pasta is fail.
Though I do like your writing style.
but WHO WAS THE WHIMPERS!? no in all seriousness it didnt really understand it but it was very intrestin if that makes sense lawl 5/10
If this creepy pasta is meant to personify volcanos? Then yay you did it. If not, be more clear. It’s okay writing, but kind of a purple prose and not understandable.
“I trailed off, it was the same thing over and over again. coldpasta.”
This. It couldn’t hold my attention at all
The idea of this was quite intriguing, not so much creepy as i would say interesting in the idea of a second species and the idea of earth being sentient herself.
Very well written and a change from the “normal” supernatural entities.
Oh, and congratulations on your publishing opportunity.
Yeah, what itsamutiny said. Cool story, not creepy, but good.
More like, BUT WHO WAS VOLCANO
slightly reminiscent of lovecraft, but very much in your own tone and words.
very nice piece.
i would have like it to be shortened though; it would heighten the tension and the fear we should be feeling.
It’s funny when people criticize stories for not getting the point across, when in reality their minds are too puny to comprehend what they are about. 10/10
THEN WHO WAS LAVOS?
…Written from the perspective of lava?
Uck, I really disliked this. Regardless, congrats, Violent Harvest. I’ve really enjoyed most of your other stories. This one was just… tedious.
Too long; didn’t read.
It was well written - very lyrical. However it is more a simple block of prose rather than a ’story’, per se. Not that it’s a bad thing - just not really a creepypasta. It was still a lovely read, so thankyou, Violent Harvest - and well done.
“I’m digging a map for mother in the pave viens made of soft rock with rubber footed beasts you guys will pay”
baically sums up the whole story
Yeah, I don’t mean to sound conceited or douchebaggish here when I say this, but this story definitely went over some of your heads. You missed the context clues and descriptors that were there to tell you that volcanos have nothing to do with this entire pasta, whatsoever. I’ve even explained what the actual protagonist is above this comment. I guess you can’t spoonfeed everyone their brix?
Quit acting so elite, Knives. I got the point and still wished he would hurry up. Every single paragraph is more or less the same: “Mother Earth hates you. We will destroy you.” If there was, like, characterization, it would be different, but it’s a static character.
Besides, it’s not like it’s even creepy. There’s no doubt it’s competently written, but it’s not creepy in the least.
Yeah, pretty much what everyone else has said. It’s well-written, and a lot of his terms are very neat, but it’s just not too creepy. It sounds like a great foundation for a story proper though, horror or not. Worth reading!
New York-3: BUT WHO WAS GEOFRONT?
It was a wonderful story. The words swayed with melody. Not Creepy, but wonderful.
Terrible wording.
Feels like you wrote it once, then used a thesaurus and changed every word that could be changed. I won’t even mention stories’ inability to keep you reading further.
I enjoyed it immensely, but I have one major problem with it.
It talks about all these “veins” and humans changing the Earth and how it’s torturing the planet, while this giant fire thing is burrowing through the Earth, causing what I’m sure is the same amount of damage as a road would cause.
Really this thing seems to be no better than us, unless I’m missing something, it just does what we do underground, and surely what we do on a very thin part of the Earth is vastly inferior to what this thing is doing. As I was reading it I couldn’t help but think of the humans as fleas, a minor nuisance, and this thing is more like a delusional tape worm. Though I do understand what you’re trying to say with it.
But still, very good, very abstract. I’ve always enjoyed these sorts of pastas that involve things that are vastly beyond our understanding.
violent harvest, it was a pretty good idea and eloquently written but compared to your other works it seems like you wrote this just to have something new on this site. it is a bit to repetitive for my taste… and for all you who mentioned it was possibly about volcanoes are not very smart…the majority of the story said he was underneath new york…think! are there volcanoes in new york?
VH’s writing is so masturbatory. I can’t take it.
“Really this thing seems to be no better than us, unless I’m missing something, it just does what we do underground, and surely what we do on a very thin part of the Earth is vastly inferior to what this thing is doing. As I was reading it I couldn’t help but think of the humans as fleas, a minor nuisance, and this thing is more like a delusional tape worm. Though I do understand what you’re trying to say with it.”
This is true, in part, but the beginning phrase, “this message is my map, and this map is my message,” is referring to the thousands of lines that would be required to be burrowed from the middle of the earth. The day of reckoning is the emergence of thousasnds of the fire-beings…. much like “Gears of War” with the locust invasion, except the surface will be wiped out in one wave of fury.
This is not the best idea or best story I’ve ever come up with, but once it popped in my head, I really couldn’t get anything done until I finished the thought on my keyboard. Again, thanks for reading….. some of the criticism is perfectly valid, and some of it is rather hilarious because people are slow. Creepypasta comments are pure gold sometimes.
Good job VH, I approve.
“And when I have finally erupted from this thin veil of dust, you will know that my name is Captain Planet.”
I had to make sure I didn’t type in crappypasta rather than creepypasta after I read this.
VM you owe me my time back.
this pasta sucked like it was made from the entrails of Bert and Ernie with a little Barney and Any Horrible example of horrible entertainment. this blew chunks. and thats not even any part of the iceberg in my opinion. if the site is CREEPYPASTA it should atleast be somewhat creepy, and this story had hide nor hair of any creepyness. so sir, ma’am, insidious creature, you have failed.
Long, well-written, and boring as shit.
I loved this pasta.
The words like “veins” and “heartfire” showed how the beings are different from us, and gave the story a lot of mystique.
nomnom.
Unrewarding, guiltmongering tripe.
The entire concept of another senitent being, angry because of human “desecration” of the planet, is cheesy and anthropocentric.
As far as the planet is concerned, we’ve done basically nothing. Our influence is over aquatic and other surface life, not the Earth. The idea of us damaging the planet is one we alone have arrived at by observing our own impact on the natural (read: living) world.
From the perspective of another senitent lifeform, or even the anthropomorphized planet itself, our building of skyscrapers and roads and airplanes is as natural a behavior as the building of a beaver’s dam or an anthill. All life bends its surroundings to its will as far as it is capable; we just happen to have the advantage of being the most capable species around.
This entire failure of a creepypasta is a cheap and repetitive projection of very human guilt onto some kind of natural, divinely righteous “avenging angel”, who punishes us with firey indignation for crimes we alone recognize. The writing style is amateurish, the concept is poorly executed, and the message is shallow.
If you guys didn’t guess what this was about, I find you really dumb. Where did you get the idea of volcanoes anyway? God, that is weird. Anyway, just wanted to say that is was an okay Pasta, I’ve seen a lot better, I’ve seen a lot worse. Oh and 2 more things : One, I sorta pictured the “veins” as side walks. Oh and more importantly : if ANY OF YOU who read this decide to make a pasta, please actually make it scary, not a stupid meaning one. Make it like the OLD pastas.
So this is what caused the Haiti earthquake - a delusional fireball digging tunnels under the earth’s crust!
Just because you’ve strung together a bunch of pretty adjectives doesn’t mean its well written. You repeat yourself WAY too often, and the antagonist isn’t interesting enough to make me wonder who or what it is.
You can throw your insults and petty ad hominem attacks like “oh my god you guys are dumb the meaning just flew over your heads what the hell” or, to quote you directly, “I guess you can’t spoonfeed everyone their brix?”
I miss when this site had “scary stories” rather than some fucking twelve year old who thinks they can get out a fucking thesaurus and become Mary motherfucking Shelley.
Not like punch-babies angry, but just…angry.
Why? Because I see through your fancy terms and words. They cloud the real meaning. This is, in essence, “LOL STOP POLLUTIN THE EARTH KTHXBAI” hippie crap, which is poorly disguised as a reference to 2012.
I actually like the pave-veins and softrock, it did help to show the narrator as obviously non-human in more then just form. Plus it wasnt that hard to figure out what they meant, pave-veins > veins of pavement > roads.
I liked the way he/she/it was burning (almost no pun intended) with the desire to rid mother of humankind, yet respected her wishes enough to fill her request of leaving us a message.
Great, we have another Sephiroth on our hands.
Wait.
He started a thousand years ago.
What were we doing a thousand years ago that could hurt the earth?
Fucking hate the word choice, but it’s a really interesting pasta. More morose than creepy, though.
It was okay. Your stuff is just normally so amazing that this looks weak in comparison.
Plus, I pictured Mr. Nature Avenger as Calcifer, which was just plain adorable.
BUT WHO WAS CARS?
I agree with the above comments that said it was lyrical. And I completely disagree with the purple prose accusations, it wasn’t illegible or overdone. The story didn’t spoon feed answers, but it wasn’t impossible to figure out. A few paragraphs seemed a bit redundant, but the writing style was good enough that it didn’t bother me.
Overall, good job. Keep up the good work!
I like the kennings
this one is boring, Violent!
It’s great if you’re in the mood for lyrical writings, but I came to creepypasta tonight with the intention of being scared shitless :/ Still waiting…
I liked it.
far too repetitive and needlessly wordy, not creepy in any sense of the word, not original or creative either. the entire experience was very lame. it was kind of like an emo teenager with alzheimers got bored one day and just tried as hard as they could to take the most trite subject and sound deep.
I will now give you truly brick shitting insight into this story
Mother earth = your ass
Protagonist = cancer
tears = poop
Now read the end with the true knowledge:
“They are an affliction on Mother’s perfect face, and because you have marred her beautiful cheeks with her own tears, we will rend you with the very fire that we were born from.”
GET YOUR PROSTATE EXAMINED NOW
Brace for a wall of text from VH because nobody liked the shitty story
personification of something dead, i loved that, reminds me somehow of HC Andersen
Wow, purple prose. The writer sounds like a high-schooler who gets his hands on a thesaurus and assumes people only dislike his writing because they don’t “get” it.
Surprise: it’s just overwrought and self-indulgent.
More proof that you can’t please everyone. Someone tells me this is the best thing I’ve ever come up with, and two more people tell me to kill myself. Now you see why pastas are fewer and farther inbetween on this site —- very few of you even recognize the effort that is put forth. Some of you complain about the quality of fiction on CP, and yet all you can is drive it further in to the ground with your trolling.
I have an idea. Write something yourself and submit it to Phone. Until then, I really don’t have much sympathy for you.
If writing is “major effort” for you, maybe you shouldn’t.
I think this is proof that you can’t please ANYBODY
Sorry. I forgot your favorite book is Twilight. I can’t possibly compete with your Stephanie Meyer fantasies, nigger tits.
I thought we were talking about how big a flop your story was, not making baseless accusations. Oh yeah, I forgot, you like to watch gay porn. I can’t possibly compete with your homosexual fantasies Violent Harvest.
cunt.
Oh hey
I know I’m new around here and late to the party, but congrats, man.
though I would advise you not to take comments (regardless of validity) here so personally
it can’t be healthy
I enjoyed it. Not creepy, but creative. Anyone play Mass Effect and remember the Rachni Queen? The wording reminded me of that, an alien species trying to get its mind around the way we think.
I just stumbled across this website and this is the first… pasta i read. And i loved this. It found it very, very deep. Interesting concept to think about. And in some of the comments, arguments against this story just sound foolish, and pay no heed to them. Yeah, you can’t please everybody, but you certaintly don’t have to please trolls. 5/5
JesusLOL, if you’re going to use a big fancy word like “anthropocentric” without actually knowing what it means, you should attempt to learn how to correctly spell the word “sentient.” You trying to sound intelligent is pretty cute.
lol it seems Mr. Violent Harvest has backed himself into a corner and pulled out a rubber knife
I know exactly what anthropocentric means, and it applies perfectly to this shortsighted guilt trip of a pasta.
BTW, the irony of you accusing someone of “trying to sound intelligent” is hilarious, coming from the Lady Queen of Misapplied Synonyms.
“And in some of the comments, arguments against this story just sound foolish, and pay no heed to them. Yeah, you can’t please everybody, but you certaintly don’t have to please trolls.”
I’m not really trying to please them. I’m a bit of a troll myself, in case you didn’t know. I’d say Poizn, myself, Ma Cherie, and Caustic are the reason Xena hasn’t shown her face around the forums in weeks. I can’t resist the urge to troll, and I don’t blame them, really.
However, nigger tits, you should watch yourself. You don’t want to end up like the guy in THIS story:
http://creepypasta.com/forums/viewtopic.php?f=3&t=2809&p=22385#p22385
I liked the flow, but the “Higher power is gonna punish you insignificant humans” approach is quite played out.
I honestly think it takes away from the story to paint the Vengeful Fireballs of Death as the ones in the right, protecting the planet by ridding the world of us. Whenever I read stories with this theme, I can’t help but think, “Are we humans really this bad?”
Perhaps it’s just my own speciesism, if you will, but I would have enjoyed it more if the fireballs were more antagonistic, more “evil.”
“I just stumbled across this website and this is the first… pasta i read. And i loved this. It found it very, very deep. Interesting concept to think about. And in some of the comments, arguments against this story just sound foolish, and pay no heed to them. Yeah, you can’t please everybody, but you certaintly don’t have to please trolls. 5/5″
Lolwut
not really, youre just an asshole =P
Quite good pasta, great work with the seasonings. I particularly enjoyed the coined words and how the creature thought of automobiles as (at least semi) living things. While certainly not ‘look over your shoulder to make sure nothing’s there’ creepy, it’s definitely eerie and deep. As someone who does a lot of custom stuff for tabletop games, this can and most likely will serve as some great inspiration.
The only thing I’ve got to raise in criticism is that the narrator’s identity is a little vague. I read it as possibly being sentient magma or perhaps an entirely seperate race of subterranean sentient beings. Then again, it might actually be both and the vagueness may be intentional. Either way, brilliant work. Keep it up.
Definitely both, Ursus. Much appreciated.
I don’t think you would make a very good troll VH, seeing as you are making a colossal ass of yourself here
I do that every time I post, Mr. Tits. I don’t want to disappoint!
I think it refers to the “solar flares”.
YOUR FEIGNED APATHY AMUSES ME, MR. HARVEST.
YOU HAVE PROVED YOURSELF A FOOL ONCE AGAIN.
TO THE DEATH
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v209/Noristat/horoscope.jpg
can’t resist the urge to troll… is that why you keep publishing such terrible pasta?
I figure it’s some kind of sex thing. Pleasure from writing shitty pasta, like some kind of masochistic self-flagellation through writing.
Or, he just genuinely believes his one-step-up from Emo poetry fiction is actually good. Either explanation works for me.
Gee, sure is greenpeace round here…
He just got raped and hes trying to play it all off as a joke
LOL I TROLL U
I guess this means you won’t be buying a copy of my book in July? Terrible pity. I could have used a chunk of your mom’s welfare check. =(
JesusLOL:
You don’t realize the stupidity of your post. I can’t believe you would come to this kind of conclusion. I for one will not stand for you making up this kind of stuff. This pasta is serious business and I will not be told otherwise. What you don’t seem to realize is that this forum is the very foundation on what this country was built on. We are taught teamwork, sportsmanship, and balance through zombie pastas. Without all of this, our society and humanity as we know it would fall.
I’m glad to be part of such a unique empire and I will fight to the death for it. It’s in my spiritual being to come to the aid of those who need it. To be questioned is to be dishonored and you should know that by now. We are all insignificant in this universe, and if nothing matters that means that everything matters. An example of my understanding can be seen in the book “Go Dog, Go”. When the dog hits the red light, he stops. This can be compared to many things in modern day life, such as when you get your girlfriend pregnant because you forgot to wrap it, or when you decide your kid is too ugly to keep. Everything gets better however when you hit that green light, and it’s smooth sailing ahead.
Some people do not make it to this green light and eventually take their own life. I am saying it is not the right thing to do, stick with what is hard and you will be rewarded in the end. No matter how hard life is or how bad your love life is, what you can do is all you can do, and that’s all that matters from a realistic standpoint.
Idealism has no value in the post-modern world, I’m afraid. False hope is false hope. The green light only comes for the beautiful and talented, the ruthless and the motivated. Any who says otherwise is either deceived or the deceiver, the sheep or the one raising sheep for the slaughter.
And I know sure as fuck you aren’t awesome enough to be raising sheep.
The comments are more entertaining than the pasta.
Wasn’t scary, but I thought it was a neat read.
Protip: Go back to /b/ sir. There’s nothing for you here. It appears that the only enjoyment you get out of creepypasta — since it’s all substandard emo-poetry tripe — is by trolling me, sir. I do believe you’re being facetious at this point, sir.
I, for one, really enjoyed this. Beautifully written, and the subject matter is almost a bit reminiscent of some of Arthur C. Clarke’s stories, which I love. Amazing job, overall.
Facetious? That’s an ironic comment coming from you after your previous post.
And quit putting words in my mouth, there are several decent pastas on here. Yours just isn’t among them.
Protip: Go back to DeviantArt sir.
Creepypasta isn’t your personal hugbox.
This pasta was pretty shitty. Especially compared to my win over Martina Navratilova at the 1991 Pan Pacific tournament in Tokyo. I overcame my opponent’s formidable accuracy by acing her opening serve on the second set, and won the next three games!
Nice story…but I must say that I found the huge ammounts of self righteousness and ego I got from the being to be rather annoying and distracting.
The prose is purply, but I like this a bit. Just a little itty bitty teensy detail that got me bugged…
“You measure your core by a finite passage of time in units. We measure ours by Mother Earth herself, as you once did before in history, before you created the deathly grid and thought yourselves too intelligent to honor Mother.”
What. A day is the time “Mother Earth” takes to turn on itself. An year — which was alluded to with disdain in the pasta itself — is the time Earth takes to turn around the Sun. Hours, minutes and seconds are subdivisions of a day that can be comfortably divided by several numbers… shortly: I sense a trial in making humanity look inferior because of its abandonment of the “Earthly” ways, but that was definitely the one wrong example to use.
That… that is all. It’s pretty good, but could be better. And bugged me, yeah.
zzzzz…
i’m sorry, but it almost put me to sleep. prettily written, but boring.
Yeahh no. Really vague. Not scary. Totally lost interest.
But who was Al Gore?
THEN WHO WAS AN INCONVENIENT CREEPYPASTA TRUTH?
this one bored me to tears
Glorious, just glorious. I didn’t find it creepy, but insanely beautiful. Violent Harvest, thank you very much for the lovely read.
9/10
Less creepy, more thought-provoking. Still, it was well-written, and for that I thank you.
Painfully obvious environmentalist commentary.
I’ve been lurking creepypasta for a long time. I’ve seen a lot of good pastas, and I’ve seen a lot of bad ones as well. But I have to say, VIolent Harvest, your pastas are the only ones that have been consistently bad. When it comes to creepy pastas, you’re like what Hannah Montana is to music. You have no talent. It had to be said. You can go ahead and fit me into whatever category you put all of your other critics, it won’t affect me at the very least. But your style and your choice of what makes things scary sucks. You seem like a boring person in real life. Wether you respond to this or not won’t really matter, but, respond if it makes you feel any better, insult me if you feel you have to. You do whatever you feel you need to do to justify yourself, label me as a stupid troll if it makes you feel better, then you can brush my criticism off and continual your crusade of further ruining the horror genre with your boring, psudo-intellectual, tedious, and excruciating stories. It won’t change the fact that you still can’t make a halfway decent story.
This could of gone a lot better. I mean, instead of making up some kind of ball of fire, you could of had some sort of “Surprise, it was plants all along” giving it more of a symbolic message. The last sentence could of been used for explaining what they were, even like “I am the flame, and I will fix these things” or something. It was really repetitive, especially the last sentence.
This is one of my favorite pastas, not really creepy but it’s a great story.
And maybe a little creepy, I sure would be unsettled if there were beings floating around underground prepping the earth for de-humanification.
am i the only one who feels sory for this “mother” person?
I’LL CONSUME THE LIVING AND THE DEAD!
But seriously, I enjoyed reading this, and throughout the whole thing I was thinking something like Azjol-Nerub of the Nerubians, although only WoW-fags will understand what that means.
Delicious pasta!
it’s a nice concept.
indeed, it kind of rambled, but i really like the message behind it.
i’m imaging a world untouched by ~anything~ whatsoever–prehistoric to prehistory, trees beyond trees.
yes
tasty pasta.
MOLE MAN?!