Patrick Finn arrived home from his Christmas conquests, beating out the snowstorm by mere miles, mere minutes. He felt not only the foreboding presence of a hazardous blizzard, but also that of something else. Something darker. It felt as if it resonated not only within his soul, but also within the souls of those around hi, within the very ground itself. Patrick had never bothered to check, but he was sure that beneath the grass and soil of Winter Harbor, Maine, therein hungered a gaping mouth or a chasm yearning for the flesh of the innocent, and anchored to the physical world only by a desire to seem normal. It had not yet been appeased because the residents of Winter Harbor were all but innocent.
Patrick had moved to Winter Harbor hoping to escape the despondency and despair he had felt in his hometown, Belmont, Maine. So far these feelings had only amplified, magnified, by both the wintry death that he felt tiptoeing in the town’s midst and the lingering scent of paint that seemed to permeate every building in the city. It was as if the town was constantly being repainted in some sort of halfhearted attempt to cover something up. Still, he felt it necessary to stay, so as not to make matters worse for his wife, whom he barely saw anymore, and his son, who always seemed so distant. He and his wife were going through a rife time in their marriage and their son was feeling its effects. It was akin to what one may feel after a tumultuous earthquake. Patrick felt that he had to make it up to his son, so he went out and bought him the most expensive and extravagant thing he could his hands on this late in the shopping season, a brand new video game system. He had assured his son that, evne though he had acted out often this year, Santa would bring him something good. Throughout these charades, Patrick felt empty at the prospect of shipping for a boy that he knew nothing about, a boy whose existence was forgotten every so often.
On the Even of Christmas, Patrick arrived home before the snowstorm and quickly crept into the garage to wrap the present and place it under the tree. It was in this garage that he often felt abrupt changes, as if within its small space, it contained secrets beyond human comprehension. The musky smell of the old holiday decorations coupled with the omnipresent scent of fresh paint, varnish, and gasoline all seemed to meld into one personified force, whispering sweet nothings to Patrick as he exited his car. This caused him to shudder heavily, as if beset by a fit of delirium tremens. He shrugged off the dull headache and dry mouth before quickly and sloppily wrapping the gift. Following this, he slipped it under the tree and began to creep upstairs. He couldn’t help but grimace at the thought that he was as far from Santa as humanly possible.
As he reached the top of the landing, Patrick glanced over at the clock. It read 11:49. He stood there, as if to wait for some fleeting childhood feeling that may accompany the arrival of Christmas. It did not come, as he soon found. Nor did cheery music, nor the scent of evergreens and cookies. Just deafening silence and that damnable scent of paint. It was everywhere, he couldn’t escape it. The arrival of yet another disappointing Christmas struck Patrick like a blow to the face. He fell to his knees then subsequently onto his stomach. He couldn’t tell if he had passed out or not.
Suddenly, a loud sound in his son’s room jarred Patrick awake. He quickly got up and stumbled into the room. The popping sound he had heard made him wonder what made it, and when he finally found out, he was confused even further. A large, black humanoid, adorned with goat horns and a tongue that writhed like a snake, stood before him, clutching his son. Patrick stood dumbfounded, seemingly incapable of recognizing not only the creature, but anything else before him.
“What do you want?” Patrick asked. Innately, he knew that the creature wanted something.
The creature smiled, licking his lips.
“Thine tender fruit, not spoiled by the worms of new but by the tree that bore it… ripened not into ambrosia but a rotten, hollow core…”
Patrick stared at the creature. Sweat began to collection on his brow. He felt as if his brain itself had been lit afire. He couldn’t breathe.
“I… I can’t say I understand…” Patrick stammered out.
The creature smiled again.
“Not by love of a dying star can a a planet be adorned, but by the eruption of its most sacred peaks? I desire the treasures from which you hope to find salvation. The gift to your boy. It is a gift for me, now.”
Patrick couldn’t understand why the creature would want the game system, but he felt it necessary to give it up. He quickly bolted downstairs, grabbing the box and, clutching it tight, he sprinted back up to his son’s room. The creature, upon his arrival, thrust Patrick’s son to the floor and held out one long, beckoning hand. As Patrick handed over the present, he couldn’t help but feel as if he were Faust himself, exchanging an eternity for one single moment of gratification. The creature licked his lips once more and disappeared in the time it took Patrick to blink.
When he was sure he as alone, Patrick fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around his son. He expected a “thank you,” an “I love you,” something. He heard nothing. He looked down. He found that his son was withering away, becoming the very shadows that inhabited the night around him. Patrick knew at that moment that he was entirely alone, swallowed finally by the chasm beneath his feet. He stumbled to the garage before sitting down, embracing his solitude and his communion with the musky smell of paint that seemed to beckon invitingly.
Credit: Anonymous
This story was submitted to Creepypasta.com by a fellow reader. To submit your own creepypasta tale for consideration and publication to this site, visit our submissions page today.
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Also why did the creature want the games console? Some hardore camping on cod?
Terrible!! So many spelling mistakes, something’s were over detailed and the story didn’t lead anywhere let alone make any sense? Shame it started out with some potential
Uh
An interesting story, an I picked up on the reference to the Krampus. However I don’t understand why it wanted the game system, or why it made the child disintegrate. I may have understood more if the Krampus hadn’t been talking in riddles. I get it’s meant to be old English or whatever but I can guarantee that the writer isn’t doing themselves any favours by making this so hard to read. I know it’s tempting to put fancy or obscure words in writing but you’re much better off just writing it simply so more people can enjoy your story without having to consult a dictionary every other sentence. After all, if you are a good writer you should be able to write a good story without needing the use of flamboyant vocabulary. It’s a good story, mind you, I like the Christmas mythology theme, but in an attempt to make their story mysterious the writer has just made it very hard to read and left everyone confused.
Are you guys fucking stupid or something? The demon isn’t “ripped from the christian devil” or “a copy of satan”, it’s the god damn Krampus from German myth. I seriously thought that someone who reads CreppyPasta would be better educated about myths. Do yourself a favor and search “Krampus” on google. You may actually learn something, rather than bitching and calling a CreepyPasta you dont understand bad.
I’ve been reading a LOT of creepy pasta’s
and I have to say, this is by far not even comparable to the others, as one of the other commentor said, I had to tilt my head to the side to TRY and understand a lick of this story.
The plot was horrible, I meant c’mon, a sudden anonymous sound in the son’s room, finding some monster asking for a game console, trying to be all cryptic (which the writer fulfilled, it was too horribly done though.) and then the son suddenly “Died”?
The ending was just the same, horribly done and caused even more confusion for me.
This pasta conjured a mighty helluva pounding headache for me,
that just explains how much this story doesnt make a hint of sense,
not to mention the atrocious grammar and misspellings (which can be overlooked in some cases.)
This has got to be one of the most horrid pasta’s I have ever had the misfortune to encounter.
Wait….what??
So, let me see if I understand what the author tried to convey. The creature wanted to take the narrator’s son away from him, as the creature is something like the Krampus and that’s what it does with spoiled children. (I’m assuming the child counts as spoiled as the parent’s are described as buying him a game system even though he’s acted out.)
The creature sees the narrator can’t wrap his mind around this and offers to take the game system instead, which the narrator was hoping would patch things up with his son. The creature takes the system, and the son withdraws into himself or is physically withered. I’m leaning more towards the former, and that the withering is more a mental break down than a loss of physical form.
The narrator, realizing his son is lost to him, stumbles into the garage and potentially suffocates on paint fumes.
I’m uncertain if this is anywhere near what was actually meant, but it is what I gleaned from it. I’d appreciate a confirmation or denial of this from the original author.
Story didn’t even make sense, spelling/grammar errors made it hard to read, and when I was done all I could think was..
what the fuck did I just read?!
Ok- “Come, mine child of darkest ichor! That we may descend into the inky depths where we might score sweet frags and pwn multitudes of n00bs!” – Made me laugh pretty hard. Well said, A Passerby!
And I’ve written some VERY bad stuff. High school wasn’t a good time for most people with brains, so all of you STFU and leave this kid alone.
I’ll give a 7.5/10. Potential, a clever idea, but a poor execution. You got an extra point for the realization that it needs work, and for defending yourself.
The rest of you- Write something yourself and post it. THEN you can be this tough on other writers.
Test.
Eh? Test.
The moment I started reading this I thought “Wow…this is unnecessarily deep and dark” Then turned to complete nonsense :3 Made absolutely no sense but I liked it.
That was so cool
Wow, I feel sorry for the writer… I mean yeah this was pretty bad but he said he wrote it in highschool “some time ago.” Implying he no longer is in high school which means it was at least a year ago, likely more. He agreed it was purple, he agreed it was pretty much nonsensical, he said he just posted it on a whim.
I came into the comments checking to see if I’d missed a nuance like a few early posters suspected, instead I find ~80 people taking gasoline to a bug and making a huge fuss over what is certainly not the worst creepypasta I’ve ever read. Yeah it was bad but there is seriously just no need do something as drastic as comparing it to Space Mutiny.
Give the guy a break. Besides, if I know English teachers – which I unfortunately do – I know he got at least a B for this. There was only one spelling mistake I caught, the rest were misused words, and they would have been balanced out by vague drug abuse metaphors which are worth at least 60% on their own.
… soooo… Satan wants an Xbox then?
This pasta was pretty awful, by and large. It fails to be verbose, despite obviously trying so hard, and is filled with dangling threads that could have lead to something half-interesting, but are never resolved. Just as I was honestly getting invested in the main character, and his problems, the story cuts off without explaining anything. Probably the most disappointing pasta ever.
Oh, also, THEN WHO WAS GAME CONSOLE!?
lol this is fucking hilarious…i am stoned as balls tho teehee
If people are going to submit to “CREEPYPASTA” they need to make stuff that is actually creepy. and whoever the hell selects these submissions needs to tighten up.
I… think I get it.The passing of the gift to the demon signified… something? And the heavy smell of paint at the end hints at the inevitable suicide of an extremely lonely, possibly depressed man? Points for effort I geuss. 5/10
mike,
you must have been the geek in english class lol. i agree with your explanation but comparing this story with the other pastas on this site.. this one just didnt work. its not like super shitty, but just really confusing for people looking for creepy stories.
but the author probably got an A for this. haha. english teachers love this crap (with the connections, emotions, comparisons, etc.)
I just read Mike’s comment.
Something tells me you’re just making connections. I honestly don’t think OC was thinking about any of that when he wrote this. I think he was just trying to impress his teacher (like he said), and hell, he even said he was on drugs. Maybe it was all random for him and you (Mike) are just trying to make sense out of nothing.
Or I’m wrong and that’s exactly what OC was thinking. Although if that was the case, I think he would have said so in his previous comment. Who knows lol
Huh? I mean, okay, I get you were trying to impress your teacher.. but I think any one of my high school teachers would have laughed their asses off if they read a story like this. It doesn’t make sense. At all.
Flowery.. come on.. it still needs to make SENSE. Plus as others pointed out, you misused a lot of words and also mispelled a lot. Shrug.
I’d like to see you write a new story. I wonder if your techniques have matured.
Well I’m glad I ran into Mike’s comment. I realize the writing is way too flowerly, but I was beginning to feel like I was the only one who got anything out of this story on a thematic level.
@acJohnson, the author never said this was BS per se. And yes, the author may not be a skilled author, but who are you to say that the hidden symbols and meanings aren’t intended?
‘sides, I say, ignoring the possible of intention, many of what Mike wrote is what I thought coming out of the story…and it ‘fits’. That’s sufficient when looking at the themes of a literary work.
so uhm a tad confusing, the demon is extremely hard to understand. But I think the reason he wanted the childs present was to steal time so he could devour the childs soul? I dunno, it was ok. The paint doesn’t really help me understand anything-unless it’s mentioned to show that people move there and leave alot, maybe the creature stays with that house and thts why the ppl move…i dunno.
I agree with Mike.
There was clearly an original concept in mind when it was written, despite the author\’s familiarity with the English language in highschool. Truly, some of the most creative stories are those that are not biased by standards of storytelling.
Regardless of how frustrating the vagueness of this story is, OC was likely intending for it to be exactly that vague — knowing that if you simply \"go out of your way to say something directly, then it becomes boring\" to quote Kurt Cobain. Not a matured creepypasta, or author, but definitely a memorable one.
This is poorly written I’m afraid. The story was jumbled everywhere not making any sense, and the “Climax” of the story was rather pathetic. Let’s not forget the lack of grammar.
Personally I think you were trying just way too hard, and you didn’t check the spelling or even re-read the story before posting.
I’m sure the concept itself could do really well (Because it has before), but you just sort of butchered it to the point where nobody even wants to acknowledge it.
this was written so poorly that i stopped reading it. i mean, really?
We get it, darling. You own a thesaurus. You know, most people actually KNOW the words they’re using in their stories. I bet you coudn’t even tell me the difference between the ‘they’re’ and ‘their’ in my last sentence.
This is a piece of shit. Enough said.
Sarah, give up the website.
Okay, I have to comment on this one it’s bad in the most delightful way possible: Like Puma Man, or Space Mutiny. I have taken some of the juicier samples of this work and will delight in tearing them to pieces:
>>”Patrick had never bothered to check, but he was sure that beneath the grass and soil of Winter Harbor, Maine, therein hungered a gaping mouth or a chasm yearning for the flesh of the innocent, and anchored to the physical world only by a desire to seem normal. It had not yet been appeased because the residents of Winter Harbor were all but innocent.”
Okay, here’s your first, and biggest problem: Your prose is fucking schizophrenic, you’re trying to be all Lovecraftian but keep lapsing back into talking all casual like all willy-nilly. Ya gotta commit yourself to one tone for the narrative and stick to it. Some suggested rewrites:
Full Lovecraft; “Though he’d never seen such a thing, Patrick had become convinced that a gaping maw lay deep below the soil of Winter Harbor, ever poised to swallow the entire town”
Full casual: “Patrick feared that, underneath the concrete and clay of the city, there was some sort of giant mouth waiting to swallow him whole”
Sophisticated as hell: “Patrick was plagued by visions of a horrible subterranean beast devouring the entire town from beneath, like a fatty choking down a five dollar footlong on a string.”
>>Still, he felt it necessary to stay, so as not to make matters worse for his wife, whom he barely saw anymore, and his son, who always seemed so distant.
Damn Son! Them’s commas, not condiments! Quite sprinkling them all over everything!
>>He and his wife were going through a rife time in their marriage and their son was feeling its effects.
Uh, I don’t think “rife” means what you think it means, cause that sentence makes no sense.
>>A large, black humanoid, adorned with goat horns and a tongue that writhed like a snake, stood before him, clutching his son.
Lord, those are some epic comma splices. Men will sing about it in legend. Crazed sailors will chase after them with harpoons; trying to reclaim the legs stolen by the great literary leviathans.
>>“What do you want?” Patrick asked. Innately, he knew that the creature wanted something.
Patrick is a very observant fellow, deducing that the demonic entity currently cradling his son in its arms wants SOMETHING.
>>The creature smiled, licking his lips.
Oop, time to hear from the monster, let’s see what he has to say:
>>“Thine tender fruit, not spoiled by the worms of new but by the tree that bore it… ripened not into ambrosia but a rotten, hollow core…”
Oh shit! Pat’s kid is being molested by Galadriel the Ren Fair LARPer!
Seriously man, you’d have made the demon sound less ridiculous if you had him say “S’up, brah”
>>When he was sure he as alone, Patrick fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around his son. He expected a “thank you,” an “I love you,” something. He heard nothing. He looked down. He found that his son was withering away, becoming the very shadows that inhabited the night around him.
So the demon took the dude’s son AND the X-Box? Sweet deal. I can just imagine the aftermath of this, the demon carrying the kid’s soul off into the night and saying to him:
“Come, mine child of darkest ichor! That we may descend into the inky depths where we might score sweet frags and pwn multitudes of n00bs!”
Oh lordy, most ridiculous pasta on here in a long while.
No, Emma, it wasn’t that bad, calm down. Don’t insult the poor kid like that.
@Mike: I really hope that you\’re joking. The author already told us that it was BS for an English assignment. You are looking for symbols that aren\’t there. Yes, it\’s true that most skilled authors incorporate symbols and hidden meanings, but not in this particular case.
A word of advice: read the comments so you don\’t look like such a dumb ass.
whatthefuckamireading.png
Someone earlier commented about the paint smellpossibly being used to cover up blood that came from sacrifices. Sacrifices would make sense if this creature was apart of the Pagan Patheon. Well, the creature itself is not some rip – off of The Devil. It\’s a Krumpus. Black Peter. The Anti-Claus, if you will. The creature that takes the naughty children of the world at Christmas time and punishes them. Although, it could also be said that he wasn\’t so much punishing the child, as he was the man.
Thank you! some one knows who the krampus is!
Okay, so the thing sounds like Stephenie Meyer.
Now that I’ve read the story, I’m just going to assume you were drunk.
I haven’t even finished read it yet, but seriously, were you drunk when you typed this? These spelling mistakes bother me.
i lol’d so hard
wtfbbq
wtf did I just read…?
I hellaaaaaa didn’t even read this whole thing. Judging by the comments, I’m pretty glad that I didn’t.
this pasta is so bad it made me a little bit sad. For the love of crap Lern 2 English!
The only connection I made for the ending, and the one i’m assuming was write, is thus:
He had bought the game system for his son for christmas, in an attempt to win back his love. In giving away the game system, he essentially gave away the only chance he had at regaining the affection and adoration of his son, and thus the demon took him away.
But I could be wrong. Who knows?
You guys are not only ignorant, but fucking retarded. Lemme help you out:
The Paint: The paint was a symbol for the mans relationship with his son. He tried to cover up his sons hurts and pains of how his parents acted by buying him an expensive gift ( like buying love.) He could smell the paint all the time because he was always trying to cover up his mistakes.
The Game Console: The Demon( his inner demon) wanted the console to show the man he couldnt buy his childs love, he had to work for it.
The Demon: It was is conscience, in a way, showing him what he did wrong.
The Boy: He didnt see his son “wither away” at that moment, the boy had been withering away for years because his parents are to busy fighting to pay attention to him. The man realizes what he has done to his son, and how distant that are.
This story was shit for sense.
I found that its writing was not easy to understand and confusing in all the misused words and grammar that adorned the screen.
Seriously, WTF??
This story made no sense. I could see the potential until it went and killed itself.
I thought it was good, It was a creepy and something to read for FREE. I think people expect too much of this site and other sites like it. This is why I do not post anything I have written, because everyone is too quick to tear you down here.
Mind screw, total mind screw.
Was that supposed to be Black Peter? For those not as obsessed with folklore as I am ‘The Anti-Clause’ is a good way to describe that character; he steals bad children away from their holmes during the holiday season. Though the spelling and grammar were atrocious, this was an absorbing read.
After the explanation from the OP this isn’t quite so bad. At least he didn’t write it just now and think it was good enough to be read. I bet it did a good job of impressing the English teacher. They like BS like this. ;)
I was waiting for some sort of connection between the paint and the creature. A city that smells like paint definitely needs an explanation, even a crude one at that.
The build-up was boring, like watching paint dry. (yeah, I just made the connection between the story and my boredom), and then some random creature showing up in the son’s bedroom wanting the video game console did not make sense to me. If the creature had placed a curse on the console, and the son played on it, then that would be mildly interesting. But why a video game console? Does the creature have something against video games? Or are you one of those westboro baptist church bozos writing out your anger towards young teenagers playing video games? I’m sure their stupidity will soon move on to avid video game players.
that was the most retared pasta i have ever read in my whole life.
That was horrible it wasn’t even scary or creepy! and it made no sense what so ever. 0/10
Look everyone, it’s a weird Satan-like goat thing that tries to speak Old English but fails miserably!
The scariest part of this story was your writing. Do you have any idea how many words you misused? Flowery writing isn’t always good writing.
@OC: I read The Stand recently, and I get the reference to Randall Flagg (he is Legion, the biblical demon, this thing is obviously some equivalent), but other than that, it doesn’t remind me of Stephen King.
Boring. I nearly fell asleep reading this.
0/10
Wow. This is beyond shit. A rife time in their marriage? Does whoever wrote this even know what that means? Shit story and the writing was horrendous. Utter fucking bollocks.
@Flash37 Yeah. So close, yet so far. Stephen King this was not!
P.S. Winter Harbor, Maine is not a creepy place. Nor is Belmont. Trust me; I’ve been there.
Buddah, things affect different people in different ways. There have been stories that I posted because they were popular and constantly searched for, but that I personally felt nothing from.
Basically, if I don’t like a story and don’t post it and it’s gotten even a smidgeon of steam on /x/ or the forums, I get bitched at; if I post said story or one that I like even a little, I get bitched at. I am not going to make every one of you happy with every single post, learn to deal with it.
If you miss the old Creepypastas, write some more, because apparently nobody else is doing so to your standards. Contribute rather than just complain, maybe?
It’s not even that it was so poorly written, and no offense, but why was this allowed again? I’m sorry, but a vague feeling that bugs you isn’t a good idea to post something. I get random urges and things that bug me all the time. If I dealt with them I’d probably be dead right now. I miss the old Creepypastas. The ones that really just fucked your night up before you went to bed.
Hey guys, I’m the one who wrote the story. I just found out that it was submitted and I just read through the comments, I wanted to clear a few things up.
I wrote this quite some time ago in a high school creative writing class and found it again while going through some old papers and decided, “what the hell, I’ll submit it and see what anyone has to say.” I was actually very surprised that it ended up getting accepted, even I knew that it was pretty lame for the most part.
Yes, I was very obsessed with Stephen King at the time (hence the Maine reference, along with the creature in the story – he’s supposed to be sort of like Krampus, if anyone knows what that was, and I was also taking influence from the antagonist from The Stand, who I can barely remember now). The spelling errors are due to me typing the story up quickly while reading off of the original printed copy.
I had to look up what “purple prose” is, but I’ll agree with anyone who said it then. I was trying hard to impress my teacher at the time with such flowery diction, and also because I think I recall some of King’s novels being written like that (I haven’t read anything of his in forever). I was a little embarrassed to read through this again, but I figured that it would be fun to try it and see what people had to say.
I’m glad that at least a few people got some enjoyment out of it; to those who said that they got a vague feeling from it, I felt sort of vague and uncomfortable while writing it. The paint in the story was a reference to huffing paint, and while I never actually did that, I did have some drug problems at the time so it was sort of a way to vent things out.
Also, to anyone who provided criticism – thank you for that, I’ve come to realize a lot of the faults I had in this story on my own, but a few of the comments have also helped me to realize what else I need to work out.
Cheers.
Um…what? D:
What is this I don\’t even.
Purple prose is painfully purple.
L2 modern English
Good, but I really don\’t get it…?
SIR.
YOU ARE TRYING TO REPLICATE STEPHEN KING.
YOU HAVE PLACED THE MAIN CHARACTER IN MAINE.
YOU ARE TRYING TO TYPE ELOQUENTLY.
YOU ARE TRYING TO MAKE DEMONS.
YOU ARE TRYING TO MAKE TWISTS.
YOU ARE, IN MY MIND, FAILING MISERABLY.
Plot sucks. To go with the Stephen King line, this seems like a combination of the first few chapters of Cell, Storm of the Century, and Pet Sematary. Too many long words that make the writer seem like a dumbass trying to look cool cause he has a dictionary beside him. A demon wants an Xbox. The kid dies without any explanation. Patrick’s evidently gonna go huff paint until he dies from the fumes.
This is a disgustingly bad pasta and horribly written. -7/10.
Also:
“On the Even of Christmas,”
“Sweat began to collection on his brow.”
Spellchecking=Wonderful.
What the hell happened here? I have to say I don’t get it.
Who the hell wrote this shit?
That sucked.
HAHAHA little mother fucker wants an Xbox 360.
I kinda like the writing. Not a very good story though. 5/10
Keep trying, author. I see some potential.
Typos abound, nonsensical plot, and, as Jack said, filled to the brim with purple prose.
Ummm…. okay.
Okay, a few things.
1, Creepypasta is meant to be creepy. Having a weird creature appear does not make something creepy.
2, Long words do not sophisticated writing make.
3, Use a spellchecker. There weren\’t loads of errors, but there were enough to be annoying.
4, Look up the word \"rife\" in a dictionary. It doesn\’t mean what you think it means.
5, Next time, have your creepypasta make sense. Even if it\’s just creepy demonic illogical sense. The main character gives a demon his son\’s christmas present, which is somehow comparable to signing over one\’s soul, and so the son turns into shadows? I can kinda see the metaphor you\’re going for, but it just feels unnecessarily random.
so a guy has a house with fresh paint and then a demon comes and takes a nes and the guy’s son dies so then he sits in his garage and smells the fresh paint in his garage.
what the fuck
Everything except the last paragraph was decent, but good lord I couldn’t stand some of the terminology. It was like Lovecraft on his worst day ever.
Wow, that was really awful.
what is this i dont even…
That was awfull. 0/10
I’m only on the third paragraph but I have to stop and say that this is so purple you could paint Barney’s ass with it. @woomobile I sort of had the same reaction at first and closed the submission email, but for some reason it was lingering in my mind so I decided to say fuck it and post it anyway. There’s something about it that I like, even if it’s just a really vague and abstract feeling that I get after reading it.
lolwut?
fail pasta is fail
I’m with woomobile.
I didn’t love this but it’s a hell of a lot better than the last few. Ending seems a bit out of the blue and unfinished, but on second reading makes sense with the rest of the story. The story resonates on an allegorical level despite the fact that it makes very little coherent sense on the literal level.
There’s an overdone kind of Nathaniel Hawthorne-esqe feel to the prose, but that’s not terrible, makes it kind of interesting.
A few, wait no, a lot of typos. Still trying to tilt my head at the right angle to understand the pasta, but Sarah’s right, it lingers. I guess.
If this pasta is now good enough to serve, I need to call the Health Department to have this restaurant shut down.
Too many spelling errors, too cliche, too badly written, the list goes on and on. I had to force myself to continue after “It felt as if it resonated not only within his soul, but also within the souls of those around hi, within the very ground itself.”
All of it was being built up to this huge climax, but a deal with the Devil that wasn\’t even really a deal was so disappointing I was happy.
That was…interesting. Not creepy at all, and the ending was pretty lack luster after all the build up. Why was the “paint” smell even mentioned? Was he hallucinating after too long an exposure to that smell, and just imagined everything? Didn’t seem that relevant to the story, and then… Hmm. Just a very odd story.
Creepy. I don’t know what to make out of it. But it’s so….creepy.
This took me FOREVER to read, I kept getting bored and zoning out. The spelling/grammar mistakes didn’t help either.
Aaanyway, rubbish story.
Its okay, but I’m not sure this is rubbish it’s
quite scary.
Is the narrator addicted to huffing paint which led to his bad marriage which led to his son’s suicide?
…Here I figured the paint would be covering up blood stains on the walls or something, and something about sacrifices on Christmas.
Eh. Average pasta was average.
What the fuck was that? Probably the most overdramatic and purple pasta it’s ever been my misfortune to taste.
I hope the author was being facetious when he or she wrote it.
Wtf? That made no sense. The appearance of the creature(an obvious rip-off of the Christian image of Satan) and the reason it wanted a simple video game system when it obviously has unimaginable powers are not explained, not even hinted at. Quite a mediocre story.
The Krampus is actually older than the christian idea of Satan, you have it backwards.
I found this story strangely interesting despite the grammar and spelling mistakes, I swear though, this story is going to be stuck in my head forever.
I’ve finished reading it. To be more specific, it’s obvious that you’re trying to write eloquently without actually knowing exactly how to use a lot of the things you’re using. Examples:
“Patrick had never bothered to check, but he was sure that beneath the grass and soil of Winter Harbor, Maine, therein hungered a gaping mouth” — If you research the definition and usage conventions of “therein” you will see how this is redundant. It may be grammatical. I don’t know for sure. But it certainly doesn’t make for smooth reading.
“He and his wife were going through a rife time…” — What in this time was rife? The time itself? You know that just means “abundant”, right? It doesn’t really say anything if you don’t specify what thing or quality is rife. Misery is rife, money is rife, but a period of time cannot be rife.
“The musky smell of the old holiday decorations coupled with the omnipresent scent of fresh paint, varnish, and gasoline all seemed to meld into one personified force, whispering sweet nothings to Patrick as he exited his car.” — “Sweet nothings” are “inconsequential expressions of affection”. At first I gave this one the benefit of the doubt, thinking that the character may have actually thought of the scent in this way, but the same smell is later described as “damnable” so I know this isn’t the case. Yet again it seems you’ve used a flowery expression without making sure you know what you’re saying.
“Thine tender fruit” — “Thine” is prevocalic, meaning it goes before a vowel. The correct singular second person possessive determiner to use before a consonant is “thy”.
He couldn’t breathe.
“I… I can’t say I understand…” Patrick stammered out. — I’ve never seen a person who can’t breathe talk. I wonder how he pulled that off. (Just kidding, I get it.)
Seriously though, it seems you tried to make the creature’s speech cryptic, and succeeded all too well. I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about.
Overall, I don’t understand the story. The place smells like paint because it’s constantly being repainted to cover the presence of a creature that steals game consoles and makes children wither away? And is this guy drunk or something? He seems to stumble around a lot. I’ve just got off work and I’m tired so maybe I’m overlooking some nuance. Enlighten me if I’m mistaken.
I didn’t mention all the typos and misspellings because those are standard fare and my focus was on the failed attempts at flowery prose. I wish I could say I enjoyed the story despite these shortcomings but they prevented anything but critical reading altogether.
LoL rife…
@woomobile I sort of had the same reaction at first and closed the submission email, but for some reason it was lingering in my mind so I decided to say fuck it and post it anyway. There’s something about it that I like, even if it’s just a really vague and abstract feeling that I get after reading it.
I’m only on the third paragraph but I have to stop and say that this is so purple you could paint Barney’s ass with it.
I had to stop after the 1st
Hopefully this is first
wtf
I’m pretty sure he’s trying to make a reference to the Krampus. It’s a German myth that is used to keep children nice, he doesn’t kill children though he take them into the woods and beats them NEAR death. To make the point that the misbehaving child should act kindly to others on a season dedicated to god. If you look up the Krampus you are most likely to see a clear comparison between the creature in the story and the Krampus.