The Diary Of A Madman
May 26, 2009
Hello Diary,
My name is Daniel Franklin. I just got this leather-bound beauty of a book in a garage sale. Its covers are smooth and black; the pages, yellowed and antique in texture—no doubt a detail I will become fond of as time goes on. Hell, I already like it. Gives the book a classical feel—such a delightful thing, don’t you agree?
But I digress. Today was just full of ventures to break the rut into which my life had sunk. First, I tried that new eatery on Eighth, and then, I bought this book at an old out-of-the-way garage sale in Eatonville. Such a kind old woman selling them, and the cookies she gave to buyers were just delicious. I may go back just to get one, if not to acquire the recipe itself!
Well, my cat Bartolome is keeping me company tonight, and I must cut this first, rather short entry to a close. I hope to update this with the memoirs of my life many, many times.
May 27, 2009
Hello Diary,
Daniel again. Today was as boring as usual. Even my favorite book couldn’t alleviate the cloud of boredom over my head. I’m starting to find my “best friend,” Mark, to be a tad annoying. Mark is nothing special—normal American family man from the suburbs.
Is there something wrong with me if I start to think some human beings as disposable? It earlier crossed my mind how uninteresting some of the robotic creatures I liked to keep in my company really are.
Ashley, with her endless list of pet names for her latest boy toy.
Stuart, his mumbling about the paranormal, UFOs and the like. Though his theories are interesting, they’re still about the same thing every day.
Is it really wrong to think of these beings as just packs of meat that shouldn’t have even been given a working brain? Death will be a mercy to them, once they reach that fateful day—
Wait, what am I writing? These are my friends; what the hell came over me?
…
Well, I did stop by that sweet old woman’s house today. We shared a plate of some of those delectable cookies with some tea, the flavor of which I just couldn’t place. Such a sweet old woman; it is too bad much of her family is dead or has forgotten about her. Her name is Susan Anderson, and her home is filled with so many curiosities from the ages of old, and it just fascinates me so. I must go back there again sometime.
I must pull this entry to a close. I am still asking myself how I could think such horrible things as I did about my closest co-workers.
May 28, 2009
Diary,
I am going to be rambling tonight. I woke up because of a….well, I don’t know if this was a bad dream or a good dream. I remember it so vividly, even though dreams have almost never stuck in my head since the days of my puberty, and many of them were less confusing and a little more…wet.
This one was strange, felt more like a memory than a dream, though before now I hadn’t been aware of such a memory. It was when I was barely five years old. I was the son of the town butcher. My teenage sister at the time loved me, and I loved her. I never knew she was sad in any way; she always seemed happy enough. I never knew her true thoughts. Even as I write this, I still don’t understand.
In my dream, I was toddling through the house, but, something struck me as being amiss. One of daddy’s knives was missing. I looked up at the wooden knife block, seeing the curious gap in the row of black grips. Daddy always said to tell him when there was a knife gone from his counter.
For whatever reason, I didn’t pay attention to his rule and continued on in my dream. Suddenly, I was pushing my way into my sister’s room. She was on her bed, her arms hanging off of each side of her bed, dripping with some dark red liquid. It looked almost like… juice.
I walked over and dragged my finger across one of the pools of red liquid before placing my finger in my mouth and sucking. It was not a pleasant taste… rather, it tasted like some of those shavings left over when Daddy sharpened his knives.
The rest seemed to happen in slow motion. Mommy walked in and found us, she screamed and fell on the bed over my sissy. I tugged on her dress.
“What’s wrong mommy? Sissy’s just sleeping… and she made juice!”
…that’s all I remember of the dream. It was chilling. I remember it, and I think I will continue to think about it. I can’t shake it. Is it an actual memory that I put behind me?
I can still taste the “juice” in the dream. It tasted heavily of iron… but also… sweet.
June 9, 2009
Diary,
I have an explanation as to why I have been absent.
Mark has died… he got in a car crash and bled to death. Oh god… poor little Justine; she’s going to be five next week and now she doesn’t have a father with whom to spend her birthdays.
Mona, his wife, is a wreck. His funeral service is on Sunday. I will miss him dearly. I’ve known him since we were both just in kindergarten, you see.
I have been like a ghost these past couple of days. The boss told me to take some days off from work at the office, at least until after the funeral. It will be hard to cope with this loss, but I believe I will come through all this with my head held high.
-A small trickle of blood is shown on the side of the page-
Oh my, a paper cut… such trivial little things—tiny, thin, they heal in less than an hour if they are treated right, but they bleed like the dickens until they do. Agh, that memory…
They only sting, but you can always feel them nagging at you for the time they’re there. Also, the blood… it has that same taste of the blood in my memory. Most people find the taste too metallic. No one tastes the sweet side of the bodily fluid.
What am I saying? It is revolting! Such a barbaric thing to do, drink blood, to say it’s sweet… even if it is.
June 12, 2009
Diary,
I have been fired
I have drunk my own blood
It is delicious, so sweet, so thick. I just love it. I gave it some thought for the last couple of days, and the liquid is almost magical, isn’t it? Such a deep red… mysterious and again, thick.
I love it; I would drink all the blood out of my own body if it wouldn’t kill me—but now that I gave thought to it, trying to keep this new taste of mine at bay was just plain asinine. It is a beautiful thing, prettier than the average rose. Nothing can beat it.
Though… my thoughts are now starting to wander. If my own blood tastes this good, how am I to know that other people’s blood doesn’t taste better? I must find out. Let the consequences not sway mine hand. I will have my sweet elixir, my sparkling cider. My red wine.
June 15, 2009
6 o’clock PM
Tonight, I will sample another’s blood. It will be that sweet old Susan Anderson. She won’t be missed anyway, so why not have her be my first? It will be like a mercy to her, being so old and near death already. I bet her blood has aged like sweet, sweet wine.
I will bring my two closest friends with me. You see, Mark is coming along for this excursion into the night, along with my sweet sister Alexis. They understand and support me. They know how sweet blood really is. They know that I need it, I crave it, my body yearns for it. Yes, with this knife and this glass, they will help me sample the selfishly unshared blood of Susan Anderson.
7:02 PM
She welcomed me! She thinks I am just here to share another cup of tea. She did not even question the knife and glass; hell, she even put them on her cabinet, as if on display! Oh well, I do not need a knife. I have this pen, and as everyone says, the pen is mightier than the sword. As I said, I will have her blood
But, who says I can’t have a little appetizer? Just a simple prick on the finger, that is all I need… yes, yes, simply delicious! I must have more!
-The ink has taken on a red tinge, as if tainted by some outside liquid-
I must have more! The finger is not enough for me anymore; this is just child’s play. Now, where should I cut to find more?
Ah, of course, I’ve known the answer all along. That dream wasn’t just a memory; it was a telling of the future! The veins and arteries in my wrist will have the sweetest mixture; my sweet, sweet sister was just showing me where to find it! My word, this must be the nectar of god himself! Just so divine! Blood is the answer to all of my prayers!
-Large spots of blood drip on the page-
I must have more… more… more… sister is showing me the way.
July 1st, 2009
What a pleasant diary! Such a nice feel to it, the cover the most exquisite shade of red, the pages old and yellowed, just like some journal back in the times of Lewis and Clark!
I simply demanded to know where Susan got it, but all she said was that she had many of the like. She must be rich! Such a book deserves to be put into a display case! She also invited me into her house, where I am now, which is filled with so many oddities! Old guns, shards of plastic grouped with destroyed clocks… she even has a kitchen knife and an exquisite wine glass on one of her cabinets.
She led me to a grand book case and I was amazed at the various books lining its shelves! Some of them looked centuries old, but the newest one looks like a twin of this one, simply in black! I asked her if I could read some of them, but she simply shook her head with a smile. Oh well…
Where are my manners? My name is Martin Sampson of Eatonville, Washington, and I cannot wait to write the memoirs of my life on these welcoming yellow pages.
–
Credited to Guest.
YAAAAAY!
Guest DID IT!
I’ve already given my commentary on this story to him so I’m not going to yammer on… except to say that I still think the plot twist was awesome. w00t! ^.^ (Happy dance)
lol. i gave my opinion of this in the thread also but +1 comment.
Soooo…. the guy turned into a vampire? Interesting…
Very nice. A little lengthy, but worth the read.
My only qualm is how awkward it seems for him to be “writing in his diary” as he is IN Susan’s home. That, and the last paragraph. Sorta.. threw me off, completely. But I sort of understand it now.
I like the writing style, though.
“Diary of a madman” indeed! Drinking blood, not knowing who he is, confused thoughts, rambling, everything fit like a well-assembled puzzle. Gave off the feeling of madness without ending up as laughable.
This was worth the read and good.
It would have been better if the narrator didn’t sound like a sixteen year old trying to sound sophisticated on their LJ.
Ok this one is freaky so every black book she has makes the person who owns it a vampire scaryyyyyyyyy
This was really good, although I think it could have done without the small notes of the ink colors and splashes and such. Those comments threw me out a little of what was otherwise a completely first person narrative.
Steve’s scuba supplies, for all your wet dreams.
BUT WHO WAS PUBERTY?
i think i got it
DELICIOUS
Fairly well done story. I just thought the language was a bit too… Flowery for a personal journal.
I did enjoy the twist ending. That was something I was not expecting.
I understand if it’s a characterization thing, but Daniel’s excessively purple prose turns out very nightmare-retardant to me. Plus, the next owner writes the exact same way from the start. I dunno. I think it would help if there were a couple fewer “THIS IS JUST A STORY” neon signs.
I like (:
Don’t really get it?
One of my favorite pastas to date. Sort of makes me thirsty.
Ooh! Nice ending.
It got too intense too quick, though. Needs more buildup.
this is good!
the story was great! but like so many other pasta storys i dont get the end… dont think badly of me for it though i read them all with great passion!
BUT THEN WHO WAS LEATHERBOUND?!?!
but then who was pen?
That was freaky as hell, and augmented by the fact that a good friend of mine is named Daniel Franklin. D:
Haha I can relate to that guy…I was sucking the blood off a cut on my hand and it made me hungry :O
Awesome story. Love the twist.
Homosexual vampire, that’s a new one. Well, I assume he is homosexual, judging by the writing.
Oh yay you finished it, Guest!
I didn’t like it that much.
I liked it. My only complaint is this: why would he be writing in the joural as he’s in her house and as he dies? Oh well, without that, the ending would have been quite strange.
Good pasta! Thumbs up and one internets for you, Guest :3
So Martin Sampson was vampire? The truth is finally revealed.
I absolutely love this pasta, but I don’t get the ending. Is he scitzophrenic?
It was okay. And Archfeared, how did the writing make you assume he was a homosexual?
it says 2009 but the language of the characters is so dated. this should be an older story, like 1900s or something.
i liked the twisted ending thanks for the delicious pasta =D
BUT WHO WAS LEWIS AND CLARK?
wait so susan gives people these books and it gives them a lust for blood until they go back to her house and then she kills them???
is that it or am I missing something?
It was well written and I thought it was very interesting.
A few parts seem very abrupt, such as the line “I have been fired [sic]“. Previously, the narrator’s boss encouraged him to take a leave.
Also, it seems unlikely that anyone would write with such passion in the middle of the act.
However, I must admit, the ending was nice.
Nicely dramatic, but the ending seemed somehow anticlimactic. Did I miss something?
Who’s Martin Sampson?
Here is what i understood of the ending:
- Daniel try to kill Susan
- Susan is also a psycho, and kills him.
- She give another diary to this Martin guy, and it all start again (?).
BUT WHO WAS PLOT??
Srsly, someone explain plz…I thought the whole sister being murdered and sister/friend coming with him thing were leading to something more than just a tip off that he was nuts. And if it says he was drinking from her fingertip/wrists…wtf, how does she kill him? Was she conscious the whole time he was doing this? Her blood is poison? She was actually the one writing the final pages? Fuck man, answers; I need them
I’m gonna be honest, this one didn’t do anything for me. The narrator’s progression into insanity seems way too abrupt, he just suddenly goes from normal guy to being all “BLARGHHH I AM CRAZY! GIB ME YO BLUUUUUUD!!!!”
The layout of the story was a little confusing in a way that distracted from the immersion. It’s really hard to get immersed into a tale such as this when you’re being jerked out of the narrative by little notes about bloodstains and whatnot.
Not really scary or intriguing. 3/10: Try harder next time please.
Also: What is with all you people who seem to want every single aspect of a story explained in detail to you? It wouldn’t be scary if the author gave us all the details. The unknown is one of humanity’s most primal fears. If we had an explanation as to how everything in a creepypasta went on it wouldn’t be creepy anymore.
Okay, I’m not Guest, but apparently a lot of people don’t understand this one, so I’ll share what I got out of it.
The woman sells these “diaries” that drive their new owners to insanity and bloodlust– inspire the dream/”memories”, give them a taste for blood, etc., etc. Why does she do this? No idea. Why are crazy people ever crazy?
Anyway, at the end, I don’t think SHE kills him. No, I think that he just starts cutting at himself and drinking his own blood, working his way up from the finger to the wrist and eventually working some irreparable damage. Susan just watched as he killed himself for his own blood.
It doesn’t altogether make too much sense, since he came there for HER blood and doesn’t end up taking any, but maybe he just got sidetracked by his own– he pricked his finger so that he could hold off on killing her and was distracted by how good it tasted, so he started carving himself up instead of killing her.
My theory is that she gets some sort of sick thrill from owning these books that chronicle descents into insanity. Maybe the diaries, in addition to being able to drive their owners crazy, can make said owners feel the need to write in them as they die? That would explain his writing as he was in the belly of the beast, so to speak.
That’s what I got, anyway. Guest, do you care to clarify?
Am I the only one who is seeing a connection between this, and another pasta? There is one which tells a story of a lage diary collection written by madsman, but no one knows where it’s located.
Anon, heres what basically happened(I think):
-Diary gives man a thirst for blood
-He tries to kill the old lady susan for her blood
-she kills him
About the sister-
-Wasn’t murdered, she most likely either had a diary like that and tried to drink her own blood, or was simply depressed and committed suicide(The first one makes more sense, and I think it may have been a warning towards the diary)
Mmm. tasty pasta!
yeah, i don’t get it either. that’s not to say it wasn’t a good read, it was, even if the writing was a little annoying in places.
delicious pasta with a side of confusing.
THEN WHO WAS DIARY?
Again with these pastas that just drag on and repeat themselves until I’m ready to drink all of the blood in my body. Oh no, what am I thinking?
Either way, I found this pasta delightful. I enjoyed it quite a bit. A job well done.
This pasta didn’t scare me. The Violet Nurse’s comment of “One of my favorite pastas to date. Sort of makes me thirsty,” coming right on the heels of this pasta, did.
Damn you Violet Nurse!
Predictable story.
Sounds like manipulated suicide to me
)
I wounder if thats what Edward went threw when he was sucking Bellas blood “need more, more, more, no i don’t. I need to save her.” *shrugs*
oh well
this one was good it has a sence of scary but doesn’t make me scared wich is good cause im scared alot
Alright, but the writer’s voice was distracting.
BUT WHO WAS JUICE? also not creepy, predictable.
hmmm. i shivered. maybe just the thought of drinking blood. i’m picking up on some vampire vibes and i don’t like it.
blood’s so yucky. and messy. very messy…
I liked it. Good Pasta.
The character was wonderful. Eccentric, lively, kind of had a ‘mad man’ feel to it.
Well done.
“Though… my thoughts are now starting to wander. If my own blood tastes this good, how am I to know that other people’s blood doesn’t taste better? I must find out. Let the consequences not sway mine hand. I will have my sweet elixir, my sparkling cider. My red wine.”
I read this countless times.
Amazing writing!
Hello all, and I am glad to see so many comments! As to who mentioned the Pasta about the Shelf of the diaries, you hit the nail on the head, that one greatly inspired me, and much of the last entry from the new writer, which also clarifies that the diaries themselves do not inspire the drinking of your own blood, but, they just inspire madness. To clear up the ending, CJ did this wonderfully, but, he did end up getting sidetracked by his own blood, and as for Susan watching, that is left to the reader’s imagination. Also, I used his language to make him sound eccentric, which someone mentioned. Also, heh, I am sorry if the voice of me got in the way of it, I just added that in without thinking, but, all of the comments are really helping me in case I want to write another, thank you all!
You’d think most people with an insane craving for blood would just kill someone else. Oh, well. Natural selection.
>I was the son of the town butcher
I Psychonauts’d
So let me get this straight. The journals drive them crazy? That’s intense.
did he die
This would be so much better if the narrators didn’t talk like Willard
Wow. People think this is a vampire story? No. They become so crazed for blood that they kill themselves to get more. Every book is from a dead man.
Not sure I get it quite yet, but it’ll hit me in the middle of a dream or something…
Oh, and I have no fear of blood but that one paragraph where he was talking about drinking his own blood and enjoying it so much was sickening. Very well written.
The first time through, i did not understand. the second time however, i got it and i enjoyed it. very nice.
the last line made me shat bricks
Hello, my name is Daniel Franklin and you all suck dicks.
“Screaming at the window
Watch me die another day
Hopeless situation endless price I have to pay
Sanity now it’s beyond me there’s no choice….”
Heh, first thing to pop into my head.
WHO WAS BOY TOY?
I couldn’t help but read this whole thing in bumpityboo’s voice. Sounds just like him.
soooooo whats the signifigance of that martin sampson guy again?
Brix were shat.
All that can be said.
BUT WHO WAS BOOK?
delicious pasta
BUT WHO WAS SMALL TRICKLE OF BLOOD
bricks,its spelt schizophrenic.
very nice,i think i get it though,because he “goes to susans house with mark” but mark is dead…..so he is truly the shittiest of bats. very nice
LOVING this one!
Have you ever felt like you had a guardian angel?
I just have that feeling right now, that’s all. It’s nice to know theres someone watching out for you.
Didn’t the new owner of the book read the old pages?
Who writes “…” in their diary?
I’ll ignore the other half just so I can get my views in. Each diary holder goes insane a different way, and she keeps 1: The weapon/token of their madness (guns, broken clocks and plastic, knife with glass) and 2:Their respective diary to accompany it. She is, in my own phrasing, a mad-maker. She’s a collector of the madmen she’s made.
I guess the first odd stimulus will be what they go mad over, in this case, the paper cut.
Yummy Pasta, in more than one way. =p
@ Magical Dave: I do. All the time. There are probably more ellipses than full stops in my diary, actually.
Anyway, I loved this. I had to think about it a bit before I got it, but once I did, my liking of it skyrocketed. Great work.
this is pretty crap pasta. if you have a bunch of people saying they aren’t too sure what’s going on at the end, it doesn’t mean you’re being cryptic and interesting, it means you lost the plot.
the ‘red wine’ business is overwritten and purple. NG. bad pasta.
I wouldn’t say it was the journals alone if at all. The poison cookies sound more at fault.
So with other words, it’s one big cycle?
AWESOME
No…Susan sells him the diary, the diary turns him crazy and makes him lust for blood, he goes to kill Susan and he ends up killing himself.
That was well…Odd the plot twist was GREAT
This pasta was a very good read, and for those of you who do not get it.
The man baught the diary and wrote int it, as he continued writeing the diary started to tear at his sanity untill his dream, or as he stated “Memory” happened. And then when his friend dies, coupled with the grief, the books effect is quickened. As the effect quickens he more then likely starts preforming lousy at work hence why he was fired. His bloodlust eventaully compeltly takes over his mind to where he wants other peoples blood, and knowing susan to be weak and old chooses her as his victim. When he gets there he wishes to lead her into false security, although at this point it should be apparant that susan already knows what he is going to try. being unable to control his bloodlust he pricks his finger in order to have an “appetizer” But the bloodlust takes control, and useing the “memory” as a basis assumes that his blood is sweeter from his veins and therefore cuts himslef on major artiries and veins to get his own blood. The last entry is simply put in to make a very good plot twist. It shows that susan has all this planned out and intends to keep doing it.
As for why she just watches them or seemingly does nothing. We shared a plate of some of those delectable cookies with some tea, the flavor of which I just couldn’t place.
I believe that she uses the blood in the cookies which would also help with the books ability to takes it’s user into madness and bloodlust.
signed: Dr. Acula Alucard
wow this was amazing pasta
and what is realy insane is that i live six hours away from eatonville i live in port orchard washington
in fact i know where that man is rite now he is a gay vampire that lives in forks washington and he has changed his name to EDWARD CULLEN i fucking hate that faggott
wow this was amazing pasta
and what is realy insane is that i live six hours away from eatonville i live in port orchard washington
in fact i know where that man is rite now he is a gay vampire that lives in forks washington and he has changed his name to EDWARD CULLEN i fucking hate that faggott
wow this was amazing pasta
and what is realy insane is that i live six hours away from eatonville i live in port orchard washington
in fact i know where that man is rite now he is a gay vampire that lives in forks washington and he has changed his name to EDWARD CULLEN i fucking hate that faggott
veiny nigger balls
BUT WHO WAS DIARY
Decent idea, dreadful execution.
Kinda confused…did the old lady do it?! o;
This was a delicious pasta. I think I can answer some questions, though I have some of my own.
My guess is that this story was meant to be interpreted. In my opinion, Susan never touched the man that was going to kill her. He just had so much blood loss the he passed out and died, and maybe Susan knew his plan the whole time, as she did for the rest of the journalists at the ending? Oh, and I do believe that the dream the man had as a child affected his wish to make himself bleed. Susan may have seen a desire like this in all of the people who recieved these diaries, as she knew that the same person in the end would do, hense the reason why he was not allowed to read the dead men`s journals.
I am not positive of any of these answers, so please interpret for yourself, you never know if you find an interesting answer
I lost a tooth right now and I was like oh good thing he is not alive right now or he’d come looking for me. OMG!
Me again.I just wanted to add that this story was so scary.And I thought about this and thought this isn’t a laughing matter.It was a serious situation for him he craved blood for some idiotoic reason.But I say this Creepy Pasta story captures the essence of disgusting.It really game a spynechlling type of mthrill to me.I asked my brother Robert to read it and he told me he had already gone through the entire strange moments.But I was thinking…..it was worth it.I seriously thought damn this must be a fucking wierd ass story.But another story I read on wfigs.com is Squidward’s Suicide the creepiest story ever it was even scarier that…..The Thing That Stalks the Woods.D: Or uhh beats me but read it it almost made me puke read both Squidward’s Suicide on wfigs.com and The Thing That Stalks the Woods.Ba-Bye.
@imrlyawesome fuck you sun of a bitch
I agrre with you “The Awnser”
Am I getting annoying?
Is English your second language? The writing style sounds far too formal, especially for a private diary. The style makes it too surreal to be really creepy, unless the story takes place in the late 1800′s.
It’s the tea.
Meh, i really can’t say that this one did too much for me. The main character’s diction just keeps putting me out of the story.
this is why i don’t like old people and tea
10/10
Loved it, the ending jolted me out of my comfort zone. I would eat this pasta again- and I will.
5/5 stars.
Nice one
Here\’s another thought btw, she uses the skin of the last person she drove insane to make the leather for a new book.
love the twist
Uhhh, you realize anemia can cause the exact same feelings this guy is dealing with, right? I have anemia, and I’ve found myself staring at my veins, watching the blood race through them. That’s usually when I realize I need to take my iron supplements. XD
Everyone has their own say on the story, but mehhh I’m leaning towards evil old lady.
Good pasta.
6/10.
drank blood from his own wrist. left his own knife and wine glass on top of cabinet in old ladies house. possibly died there. his sister showed him ‘the way’. old lady still had black journal. could her cookies have been made with blood? journal could have passed on morbid memories of previous owner. all in all great story
Change the setting to 1900, take out the (few) modern references and you’ve got a good story. No one speaks this way now. The conflict of the language of the narrative and the setting of the story kind of pulled the whole thing apart. Otherwise a good read.
This was really not very scary to me. I more found it scary because of certain personal tastes of mine than from the quality of the story. The whole setting just seemed… off. No one in the modern world speaks in such a way. Why would the owner of the new book write in exactly the same style as Daniel? That does not make sense. On another note, although Daniel’s descent into madness seems abrupt, it really took several months, looking at the dates on the journal entries. I give this pasta 6/10 for a good effort.
it was a decent story, but the intro sounds a little TOO similiar to that of 1984
dumb, too long, and predictable. the only interesting part I felt was the dream/flashback about his sisters suicide, it gave me false hope for a better ending. sorry dude, 2/10
Well written, although I have to agree the language is too flowery. And this has been bugging me, why do people keep asking “BUT WHO IS PHONE” and such?