My-Random-Rabbit-Killer-Story

Just yonder, Reamus was struggling to make his way through the forest behind Eugene’s place. Reamus had severely hurt his face during the window incident, and was starting to lose strength. Another pack of feral rabbits suddenly appeared, having caught wind of the iPhone. One by one they latched on to Reamus. Already weakened from his injury, Reamus yielded to the furry onslaught and collapsed. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was a buzzing horde of rabbits running off with his iPhone.

About four hours later, Reamus awoke, his neck throbbing. It was dark and Reamus did not know where he was. Deep in the muddy desert, Reamus was abundantly lost. Subsequently, he remembered that his iPhone was taken by the rabbits. But at that point, he was just thankful for his life. That’s when, to his horror, a teensy rabbit emerged from the forest. It was the alpha rabbit. Reamus opened his mouth to scream but was cut short when the rabbit sunk its teeth into Reamus’s chest. With a faint groan, the life escaped from Reamus’s lungs, but not before he realized that he was a failure.

Less than seven miles away, Eugene was entombed by anguish over the loss of the iPhone. ‘MY PRECIOUS!!’ he cried, as he reached for a sharpened stapler. With a heroic thrust, he buried it deeply into his chest. As the room began to fade to black, he thought about Reamus… wishing he had found the courage to tell him that he loved him. But he would die alone that day. All that remained was the iPhone that had turned them against each other, ultimately causing their demise. And as the dew on melancholy sappling branches began to reflect the dawn’s reddish glare, all that could be heard was the chilling cry of distant rabbits, desecrating all things sacred to virtuous men, and perpetuating an evil that would reign for centuries to come. Our heroes would’ve lived unhappily ever after, but they were too busy being dead. So, no one lived forever after, the end. 😥

Origins of SCP-173

*note* The following story is based on a (hopefully) fictional entity in the website “The SCP Foundation”. The original profile of the mysterious entity classified as “SCP-173” can be found here.

-Origins-

The was once a vain man named ██████. ██████ loved looking into the mirror. He would often admire his own reflection for a few hours at a time and even compliment himself. He also had another problem. He would often strangle others who do not compliment his appearance into submission or in one case, death. The poor man was hit with a piece of rebar and then strangled to death. The cause of agitation is still unknown but it was enough to agitate ██████. ██████ was then arrested and sentenced to life in prison.

While in jail, ██████ could not stand not having a mirror to stare into. He had countless sleepless nights. Eventually he went crazy. The other prisoners who often stared at him or insulted him all died. One by one. Cause? Strangulation or by a broken neck hit by a hard, heavy object.

██████ was transferred to a more private cell for the safety of the other prisoners. He hated other people so much that he began praying to the Devil. One night, he did a ritual to summon the Devil. He used rocks around in the prison and made a small doll with blood from the prisoners that he murdered. It worked and he came face to face with pure evil. ██████ vanished from the cell soon after. A giant, life sized, concrete doll was what was left inside the prison.

Three weeks after the incident, during a prison riot, the cell was accidentally opened during a blackout that occurred. No survivors were found by the authorities the next day. No survivors, except two prisoners and a lone police officer together in the corner of the warden’s office staring at what seems to be a giant concrete doll directly in front of them. They seemed exhausted but never broke eye contact with the object. They warned one another when they were about to blink.

All around the prison courtyard were the corpses of both prisoners and prison guards. Most of them had broken necks with faces screaming as if they saw a ghost. The SCP Foundation was alerted to the incident soon after. When the agents arrived at the scene, the doll was transported by crane in the back of an armored truck, all while having at least three guards maintaining eye contact with it until the metal doors of the truck closed.

It was transported to SCP facility ██████ and dubbed The Sculpture. The agents who transported the truck reported hearing scraping concrete against metal throughout the trip and loud breathing behind them. The object was put into a cell for further testing.

Where Is The Light

Walking blindly was the last thing Dave wanted. You never know which pit you’ll end up at the bottom of. Curse his luck for going into this cave in the first place. His curiosity got the best of him and Dave explored deeper and deeper into the darkness of the cave until his flashlight went dead. Dave felt along the walls and tried to feel for any draft of wind. Nothing. Perhaps he may never get out alive.

The Boy Who Cried Aliens

There was once a boy named Sam. Sam loved to lie and play pranks on the local village. One day, while he was tending to one of the village farms, an idea struck him. He decided to kidnap one of the sheep every night and blame it on aliens by leaving telltale signs of their “appearance”. So he did.

The farmers were skeptical however, and Sam was caught red-handed on the third night. The villagers decided enough was enough and decided to hang him. The night before Sam’s hanging however, Sam vanished into thin air. Disappeared from jail. What was left in the cell Sam was in were writings on the wall written in blood. “ALIENS”. The villagers searched high and low for him but Sam was never seen ever again. The strange thing was, more and more sheep kept disappearing from the local farms. At first the locals blamed it on Sam who disappeared some time ago but then goats and cows started disappearing as well. Flattened crop in weird shapes, now known as “crop circles”, started appearing each time an animal was taken. When investigated by brave farmers armed with shotguns during the night, even they vanish. All thats left the next day are their clothes and dried blood.

It’s Star Wars Day!

The title says it all, as we celebrate Star Wars Day this May the 4th! If any of you are wondering why May the 4th is Star Wars Day, its because “May the 4th Be With You.” See what I did there? 

We give thanks to George Lucas for creating Star Wars and all our favourite and memorable characters like Darth Vader, Luke Skywalker and lets not forget our little old wise green friend, Master Yoda. Thank you for creating such an epic tale spanning over time across a galaxy far, far away. On behalf of all Star Wars Fans out there, We salute you, dear sir.And May The Force Be With You,

Always.

Happy May the 4th! 

The Curious Boy

There was once a boy living in a faraway village. He was extremely curious, much more than others his age. One night, as he was exploring the forest surrounding the village, he heard a female voice calling out to him. Being the curious boy that he was, he ignored the surreal stories told by the elders about the night. The next day, his body was found by the village hunters, with lifeless eyes and a mouth seemingly screaming in pain.

A Lazy Day

I’m just so lazy today. There is absolutely no motivation for me to get out of bed right now.

I’m just so lazy today. I wonder if my friends are hanging out somewhere in town later today. Perhaps not.

I’m just so lazy today. Did I leave the kettle on last night? Maybe I’ll check it out later.

I’m just so lazy today. Do I have assignments to do right now? Definitely. I should get up now and start on them.

I’m just so lazy today. Perhaps tomorrow.

Old Raven

“Fire!”, they answered.

The children stared at each other and then at the old lady standing in front of them. She smiled in a way that reminded me of a witch. How did we even end up answering pointless riddles by some beggar lady inside a lonesome attic far off town anyway?

“Good… Good… Impressive intellect for one so young such as yourselves.”, the lady whom I decided to call Old Raven said. She examined us with her seemingly huge bulging eyes and nodded slowly. She began pacing around the room muttering strange, yet familiar words that sounded more like gibberish. 

Mark shifted uneasily beside me. I could tell he was scared shitless. The expression on his face and cluttering of his teeth gave him away. I didn’t attempt to shut him up considering how terribly afraid I was too at that point. How were we going to escape this room and return to The Bar? The door was locked tight and the only visible way out is out the window… 3 storeys high. With Old Raven blocking the way too, I don’t think we’ll be able to run away so easily.

“Bam!”, the sound of a wooden stick echoed loudly in the empty attic room. I immediately snapped to attention. Old Raven was clutching the mahogany walking stick with her two scrawny hands. The sound that came earlier felt too strong for such a pathetic looking granny like her to muster.

“You boys must be wondering why you’ve been brought here. It is not by coincidence you ended up in my little home. Fate brought you here. Destiny ascertained that,” Old Raven spoke in a voice almost unrecognizable from before. Her voice sounded… younger. As if twenty years have been lifted from her. 

Mark and I exchanged puzzled looks. What the hell was this crazy woman talking about? Fate? Destiny? This isn’t some Narnia fantasy you know from books and movies. This lady was nuts.

As if Old Raven could read our thoughts, she sighed loudly. “It seems you boys don’t believe me. Come. Let me show you.”

She knocked her walking stick on the wooden planks underneath three times, and let out a creepy four tuned whistle. Nothing like the one in The Hunger Games book at all.

Suddenly, the window behind Old Raven vanished into thin air and was replaced by a seemingly endless pitch black void. Two pillars with stone gargoyles holding swords resting at the top guarded the entrance to what I thought were the gates of Hell itself.

Mark gave out a shriek and cowered in fear. I was wide-eyed, paralyzed with fear and  feet rooted to the ground. I didn’t want to die. Not so young. How will my mother take care of baby Ben if I’m gone? 

Old Raven’s voice broke my chain of nightmarish thoughts.

“Now, now. Shall we begin?”

 She gave her ominous smile and turned towards the gate. As she entered the structure that looked to have come out of the darkest nightmares, it might have been my imagination but where Old Raven stood a moment before, lying on the ground were three, black feathers…