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| Hello friend-os, Laurie here. Before this story starts, I'd just like to address a few issues that I've had in writing and releasing this story. It all started with a "SCREAMS!!!" Here's a link "No Entries No Winner New Prompts" Time, and time again I tried to pen a scary story, although none seemed frightening enough to enter. I know that it wasn't the prompt's fault, the prompt is awesome; I could have written about flying rodents(Chiroptera), people using baseball bats/cricket bats to fight off a baddie, someone who's has a few bats loose in the belfry, nobody bats an eyelid, [REDACTED], eccentric old bats, you get it. My first thought was about an isolated lighthouse infested with killer bats, although that was too predictable. Next, I conjured up a tale of a missing ex-baseball player turned lunatic, who'd carved one of his championship bats into a cursed cane, again though, too predictable. Then it hit me, why not write about [REDACTED], it was perfect it was about ββββββββββ, you know the ones. A little over seven hours it took me to finish up a draft, when I tried to post it though, the body of my work either disappeared or went screwy and the title changed to INVALID ITEM in my portfolio for some reason. I thought I must have done something wrong, I have only been here for around a month and a half so messing up was a big possibility. Over and over again, I tried to post my story, yet every time I would get the same result. ββββββββββ isn't exactly a bad line, is it? Coincidentally, as I tried to post my tale, I started feeling a strange tightening pain in my stomach, which my doctor said is a nasty viral infection, a few days have passed and the antibiotics he prescribed aren't working. In my weakened state, I started dreaming about [REDACTED], long, hazy nightmarish dreams in which I'd constantly wake coated in a thick lather of sweat. While both of these things may seem unimportant, I write of them to try to explain my further hallucinations of ββββββββββ. Odd men in suits stand outside my paddock's wire fence and stare at my house. I have caught them a few times now, each one appearing as though he is holding a ββββββββββ; I know how weird that may seem considering the size of them, but that is what I saw. They just stand there until I look away, at which point they seem to just vanish into thin air; this is why I first believed they were some sort of mental manifestation. I live on an acreage in the middle of nowhere, after a few days of near drought-breaking rain, my grass had grown higher than my knees, leading me to go out and mow it today, even though I felt as sick as a Sumatran Rat Monkey. Whilst I was cutting my lawn, I noticed footprints left in the mud outside of my fence. I can't say for sure if these men in black suits are real or not, although this proves that someone was out there; if they were there, then what did they want? All of these inexplicable happenings seem to relate to [REDACTED] in one way or another. I'm starting to feel as though this contest is sending me a little bats crazy. This madness aside, I'd like to know why someone, or something is censoring me on this site? I am only writing about ββββββββββ, it's not like I am trying to write about anything illegal. Can anyone explain this to me? Perhaps I am being paranoid, this isn't a grand conspiracy, certain gatekeepers aren't trying to silence me by instilling fear and sickness, are they? No, that would be crazy. Although tonight has been strange, a bright spotlight keeps passing over the top of my house, almost as if it were attached to a silent helicopter, and something is shaking my carpeted wooden floors in small increments, every few hours. Probably just my virus-ridden brain feverishly concocting false sensations, right? On to the story. (Please read it before it is taken down again.) ββββββββββ of the ββββββ βββββββ in the ββββ, today ββββ βββββββ ββ βββββββββ. [REDACTED] ~749 Words |