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Thainexylon OP t1_j1yaraw wrote

>!Dan Solace!< is a stunning, successful, sexy, sadistic man... Yes, he is sadistic for he lusts the blood of the victims he strikes— mostly, those were people who have done something bad— for he is a business man by day, serial killer by night. With over 47 identified victims, and possibly more than that, he is quite prolific with his sprees.

This book contains every atrocities he committed against his victims each having their own story, most are gruesome to the point that there's not a single speck of mercy left. It also goes to show what cruel artistry this man has, to convey the meaning behind every scene.

Price: $57.50

There's a sticky note on the book, it says:

. ...- . .-. -.-- / ...- .. -.-. - .. -- / .. ... / .-- --- .-. - .... / .- / -.. --- .-.. .-.. .- .-.

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lisassimpson t1_j1y1y1t wrote

"Come on snap out of it. Your still alive everything is fine okay. Your life is great remeber. Nothing bad is happening in the world." I say to myself looking in the mirror. today is one of the bad days since it all started. "just remember the three reason I'm definitely not a zombie:

  1. I would have died. (I'd remember dying right?)
  2. I don't look like a zombie.
  3. I don't feel like a zombie."

I've told myself these three things everyday since the apocalypse began. I'm terrified of becoming a zombie. I love my life. I have, well had a great boyfriend. And my parents they were amazing too. I guess I loved my life. The only thing that hasn't changed is that I have my dog. But he's becoming almost afraid of me you could say. But there's nothing to be afraid of because of the three things I tell myself everyday, right? The only issue is its becoming more and more obvious, I am a zombie.

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Robysto7 t1_j1xzet3 wrote

The young man was cornered, in his frenzied escape attempt he'd run into a dead end, the monster slowly crept closer. A thick ocher fog enveloped the world, overwhelming the man's senses. A pair of pale white eyes stared from the foggy abyss. The young man steeled himself, raising his fists for a last stand.

"Come on you filthy zombie! I can take you!" He screamed.

As quickly as the fog rolled in, it rolled out to reveal a tall, pale man with delicate facial features. A long black cape flowed around his body. His thin eyebrows raised in confusion.

"What did you just call me?" He asked in dulcet tones.

"A zombie! A corpse that roams the earth, sent straight from hell." The young man's fists shook with fear.

"My dear boy you're mistaken, and as a firm believer in an educated populace let me straighten out this confusion.

Reason the first why that label is grossly inaccurate is the mastery of human language. Words are the paint which I use to create art on the canvas of a person's ears. Can a zombie do this?" The man cleared his throat. He produced a small pitch pipe from his cape, blowing into it to find the note he needed.

"I am the very model of a modern Major-General, I've information vegetable, animal, and mineral, I know the kings of England, and I quote the fights historical, from Marathon to Waterloo, in order categorical; I'm very well acquainted, too, with matters mathematical, I understand equations, both the simple and quadratical, About binomial theorem I'm teeming with a lot o' news, With many cheerful facts about the square of the hypotenuse. I'm very good at integral and differential calculus; I know the scientific names of beings animalculous: In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral, I am the very model of a modern Major-General..........." The man sang quickly without missing a beat or syllable, taking a pause, or being out of breath afterwards.

"Reason the second is the disgusting cuisine they dine on. Human brain matter and sinew ripped from the bone. Unseasoned, uncooked, teeming with pathogens and bacterium. My palate is more refined, my tastes exquisite. The finest part of a person isn't the meat, it's what flows through it.

Reason the third, this one should be obvious since you can see it with your own eyes. Look upon my cape. Hand sewn and tailored to my exacting specifications. The garments I wear underneath would make even the richest sultan green with envy. Those shambling monsters wear rags, the ones they were buried in.

Reason the fourth. Those abominations roam the earth since the afterlife has reached capacity. They have risen from the fall of death, I have never fallen. After cursing that foul god, death may no longer take me. Some call it a curse, I call it a gift. The gift of the Nosferatu. The only thing I have in common with them is that all it takes is one bite, and you become one of us."

The pale man silently floated to the young man's side. Fangs gleamed in the moonlight.

"So I'm going to be one of you?" The young man asked, his voice quivered in fear.

"Even better, you'll be part of my entourage. Stay still, this will only hurt for a moment."

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