The final chapter... after the break!
Friday, July 27, 2012
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Friday, July 20, 2012
Night Games Chapter 10
I know no one has read any of this but I shall continue until the end of the story anyway!
Click "read more" to read chapter 10
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Monday, July 16, 2012
Night Games Chapter 6
Click "Read more" to continue the story with Chapter 6
Language warning, by the way.
Language warning, by the way.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Friday, July 13, 2012
Night Games Pt. 5
Obviously these are very short "chapters" so none of these updates will be very long.
Chapter's after the break this time because I don't want to keep cluttering up the front page!
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Night Games Pt. 4
No one is reading this (my average views have dropped from 9-10 to a whopping zero) so I'm just going to start posting entire chapters. Chapter 2 begins after the break!
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Monday, July 9, 2012
Night Games
I wrote this story over the course of two different summers for my friends. It came about because of an idea for a photo shoot we had and a creepy story I had found gelled in my head. It isn't exactly professional work, but it was a lot of fun and to date it's the longest story I have written. I'll be posting it in short segments (usually just a paragraph or two) every day and I would love, repeat: LOVE to hear your comments on how you think the story is being told, the story itself, the characters, etc. This story is a work of fiction and all contents are © Justin Jarboe 2011 :)
Everything's after the break because I like to know what posts people are reading more often than others.
Everything's after the break because I like to know what posts people are reading more often than others.
Saturday, July 7, 2012
It's Raining...
I've seen a lot, and I mean a great many, fake limbs in my day. I used to be fanatically interested in practical effects in movies, and Rick Baker taught me everything I know. I've also seen a lot of fantastically done makeup effects of every sort - acid burns, scars, stab wounds, bullet wounds, bruises, impalements, et cetera and so forth.
I've seen so many things, and I'm genuinely not sure if what I'm seeing here is real. After the break you'll find a series of four photos that were posted on 4chan in a thread that died relatively quickly. The original poster said, simply,
"what does /b/ keep in the freezer?
guess whats in mine"
He or she then posted four pictures. One of a freezer and then three more that detailed the contents of the freezer (I'll give you a hint: It's dismembered human remains). The OP mentioned that he was going to go masturbate and then quickly abandoned the thread. The reaction was explosive. Several hundred posts later the thread died a spectacular death, leaving behind lots and lots of questions.
Theories were concocted of the OP being a worker in a morgue, a cemetery, or simply being a serial killer. If your stomach is strong enough I invite you to inspect the evidence and comment with your theories.
SERIOUS WARNING: The pictures after the break are explicit.
I've seen so many things, and I'm genuinely not sure if what I'm seeing here is real. After the break you'll find a series of four photos that were posted on 4chan in a thread that died relatively quickly. The original poster said, simply,
"what does /b/ keep in the freezer?
guess whats in mine"
He or she then posted four pictures. One of a freezer and then three more that detailed the contents of the freezer (I'll give you a hint: It's dismembered human remains). The OP mentioned that he was going to go masturbate and then quickly abandoned the thread. The reaction was explosive. Several hundred posts later the thread died a spectacular death, leaving behind lots and lots of questions.
Theories were concocted of the OP being a worker in a morgue, a cemetery, or simply being a serial killer. If your stomach is strong enough I invite you to inspect the evidence and comment with your theories.
SERIOUS WARNING: The pictures after the break are explicit.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Squirm!
Or... The moment that makes you queasy.
Mystery Science Theater 3000 is an amazing and uniquely entertaining show. Squirm (Jeff Lieberman, 1976) is a terrible movie. A match made in heaven. I have watched every single episode of MST3K ever produced. Well, actually, I've watched all of the episodes after Joel left. He was a good host but those episodes just seemed boring. Mike Nelson will always be THE host for me, but I digress. I was watching the guys lambast Squirm in their usual style when something unusual happened. The movie actually made me uncomfortable. In the safest, most secure viewing environment possible, a single shot in the movie made me, well, squirm in my seat.
It comes near the end of the film: The secondary antagonist, Roger Grimes (the worms are obviously the main antagonists), has gone insane with worm fever and is chasing down the protagonists. In the process, he falls into a literal sea of worms and is instantly pulled under the surface. The effect was shoddily done, cut to just a second or two, and utterly silly looking. I knew all of that and yet, for some reason, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I couldn't stop imagining thousands and thousands of worms wriggling their way into your flesh and devouring you in tiny pieces. It's horrifying in every sense of the word. On a certain level the visceral is almost secondary to the more cerebral part of the effect: that will happen to you. You will die, and you will be devoured by worms and insects afterwards. There is absolutely nothing you can do to avoid that. The fact that a B movie that was over thirty years old when I watched it made me actually consider my own mortality is... impressive. Not so much on the part of the film, but on the part of the genre in general. Even when a horror movie is terrible it can make you think.
Mystery Science Theater 3000 is an amazing and uniquely entertaining show. Squirm (Jeff Lieberman, 1976) is a terrible movie. A match made in heaven. I have watched every single episode of MST3K ever produced. Well, actually, I've watched all of the episodes after Joel left. He was a good host but those episodes just seemed boring. Mike Nelson will always be THE host for me, but I digress. I was watching the guys lambast Squirm in their usual style when something unusual happened. The movie actually made me uncomfortable. In the safest, most secure viewing environment possible, a single shot in the movie made me, well, squirm in my seat.
It comes near the end of the film: The secondary antagonist, Roger Grimes (the worms are obviously the main antagonists), has gone insane with worm fever and is chasing down the protagonists. In the process, he falls into a literal sea of worms and is instantly pulled under the surface. The effect was shoddily done, cut to just a second or two, and utterly silly looking. I knew all of that and yet, for some reason, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I couldn't stop imagining thousands and thousands of worms wriggling their way into your flesh and devouring you in tiny pieces. It's horrifying in every sense of the word. On a certain level the visceral is almost secondary to the more cerebral part of the effect: that will happen to you. You will die, and you will be devoured by worms and insects afterwards. There is absolutely nothing you can do to avoid that. The fact that a B movie that was over thirty years old when I watched it made me actually consider my own mortality is... impressive. Not so much on the part of the film, but on the part of the genre in general. Even when a horror movie is terrible it can make you think.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Why I Love Horror
I have always loved scaring people. Well into my teens I would play a game with myself where I would sneak around the house and scare my family members by being as stealthy as possible. Unlike, well, probably most kids, I wasn't inclined to scream or jump out at them. I wasn't in for the cheap scares. I wanted to be more subtle about it. For some bizarre reason I think on some level I wanted them to be on their toes when I was around. What I would do is sneak up on, say, my mother while she was washing dishes or watching tv. I would then wait patiently until she turned her head long enough that I could step into a position that would reveal my presence when she turned back. "How can someone so big be so quiet?!" she once said after a particularly good scare. I've never forgotten how much personal pride and satisfaction that question gave me. It felt good to be small for once. It felt good to be invisible instead of a lumbering, awkward teenager who hadn't gotten used to being 6'4" yet.
So what does that say about me? Was it a cruel instinct, or a way to seek comfort from my family? The key is in motivation. I never had malice in my heart. Scaring my family and friends was all in good fun, and believe me I got my fair share in return. It became a game for me; a way to explore my fears in a safe way. It may stand to reason, but the scariest thing to do is confronting your fears directly. I have several consistent fears that have plagued me my entire life. Specifically I have always been afraid of the dark, being trapped, sharks, and spiders. Darkness and spiders don't affect me as much now. Through some intense and directed personal experimentation I've managed to become comfortable with those concepts. Being trapped and sharks have gone the other direction and twisted into half-cocked phobias.
A "phobia" is defined as a type of anxiety disorder, usually defined as a persistent fear of an object or situation in which the sufferer commits to great lengths in avoiding, typically disproportional to the actual danger posed and often being recognized as irrational (thank you Wikipedia). Violently reacting anytime someone makes me feel trapped doesn't make me feel better. It's like a sneeze. If someone sits on me or makes me feel trapped I'm likely to break their nose trying to escape, and I can't control it. I'm 24 years old and swimming in a pool alone gives me panic attacks. I can't stop imagining a shark swimming out of the darkness towards me and after a while (even though I know it's -beyond- irrational) I can't stand it and I have to scramble desperately for the pool edge to get out. It makes me feel weak. It makes me feel crazy. What can I say? I'm not the healthiest individual in the world. I am a firm believer that direct confrontation is the -only- way to deal with your fears. It takes tremendous fortitude and willpower, however, and I'm not willing to go through it yet.
Scaring other people makes me feel good. It makes me feel in control of fear itself. It isn't an altogether selfish endeavor, either. It's like giving someone a gift; the chance to be afraid and be safe at the same time. The chance to, without warning, feel alive. To feel your blood thundering in your ears and scream with primal energy. To walk around your own home like a gazelle in the tall grass, ears cocked and eyes wide open. To loose your imagination and let it run riot over your senses. Fight or flight, kill or be killed. It is, in my mind, the last and purest connection we have to nature. I say we embrace it.
So what does that say about me? Was it a cruel instinct, or a way to seek comfort from my family? The key is in motivation. I never had malice in my heart. Scaring my family and friends was all in good fun, and believe me I got my fair share in return. It became a game for me; a way to explore my fears in a safe way. It may stand to reason, but the scariest thing to do is confronting your fears directly. I have several consistent fears that have plagued me my entire life. Specifically I have always been afraid of the dark, being trapped, sharks, and spiders. Darkness and spiders don't affect me as much now. Through some intense and directed personal experimentation I've managed to become comfortable with those concepts. Being trapped and sharks have gone the other direction and twisted into half-cocked phobias.
A "phobia" is defined as a type of anxiety disorder, usually defined as a persistent fear of an object or situation in which the sufferer commits to great lengths in avoiding, typically disproportional to the actual danger posed and often being recognized as irrational (thank you Wikipedia). Violently reacting anytime someone makes me feel trapped doesn't make me feel better. It's like a sneeze. If someone sits on me or makes me feel trapped I'm likely to break their nose trying to escape, and I can't control it. I'm 24 years old and swimming in a pool alone gives me panic attacks. I can't stop imagining a shark swimming out of the darkness towards me and after a while (even though I know it's -beyond- irrational) I can't stand it and I have to scramble desperately for the pool edge to get out. It makes me feel weak. It makes me feel crazy. What can I say? I'm not the healthiest individual in the world. I am a firm believer that direct confrontation is the -only- way to deal with your fears. It takes tremendous fortitude and willpower, however, and I'm not willing to go through it yet.
Scaring other people makes me feel good. It makes me feel in control of fear itself. It isn't an altogether selfish endeavor, either. It's like giving someone a gift; the chance to be afraid and be safe at the same time. The chance to, without warning, feel alive. To feel your blood thundering in your ears and scream with primal energy. To walk around your own home like a gazelle in the tall grass, ears cocked and eyes wide open. To loose your imagination and let it run riot over your senses. Fight or flight, kill or be killed. It is, in my mind, the last and purest connection we have to nature. I say we embrace it.
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