#horrorstings
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ALL DIGITAL UNLESS NOTED OTHERISE
WITCHAXE
https://books.apple.com/book/id6444244393
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/witchaxe-wes-jaques/1142625792?ean=2940166819260
https://bookmate.com/books/sIngEHUM
https://www.24symbols.com/book/english/wes-jaques/witchaxe---the-dead-skin-chronicles?id=4370164
Severed Tongue Secrets
PAPERBACK VERSION
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0BHNLQSKT?ref_=dbs_mng_crcw_0&storeType=ebooks
https://books.apple.com/book/id6444491085
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/severed-tongue-secrets-js-bannerman/1142349182?ean=2940166823793
https://www.scribd.com/book/608042450/Severed-Tongue-Secrets
Pitchfork Diaries
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BLHYDY8H?tag=publishdriv01-20&linkCode=osi&th=1&psc=1
PAPERBACK VERSION
https://www.amazon.com/Pitchfork-Diaries-Jake-Bannerman/dp/1387634054/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=&sr=
https://books.apple.com/book/id6444218899
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-pitchfork-diaries-jake-bannerman/1142563401?ean=2940166818379
https://www.scribd.com/book/605153036/The-Pitchfork-Diaries
https://www.scribd.com/book/605153036/The-Pitchfork-Diaries
https://www.24symbols.com/book/english/jake-bannerman/the-pitchfork-diaries?id=4369840
Harvest
https://books.apple.com/book/id6444451345
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-harvest-jake-bannerman/1142681799?ean=2940166823304
PRINT VERSION
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BJYM9W36
#HorrorTime#HorrorStation#GoreQueen#SUPERGORE#HorrorPodcast#godless#godlessapp#godless2022#godlesshorror#godlesshorrrors#horror#horrorbooks#horrorbookstagram#indiehorror#indiebooks#indiebookstagram#supportindie#writerslife#writinglife#writers#writer#HorrorCommunity#HorrorFam#HorrorFan#HorrorArt#HorrorMovies#splattergore#scarecrow#horrorfam#artist
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Khooni dastaa hawaas ki |khoon ki pyaasi chudal| khooni chudal #horrorst...
LINK OF CHANEL : https://daniblogs.com/BF/125437lc
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Haunted railway station in India
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बच्चू चुडेल- Little Ghost kahaniya For kids | Urdu Stories | Urdu Fairy tales | Urdu Story
#GhostStory #HorrorStoryInHindi #UrduStory #UrduStories #UrduMoralStories #UrduFairytales #UrduFairytalesChannel #UrduKahani #BhutiyaKahani
#HorrorStorycartoonsinhindi
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Chapters: 1/?
Fandom: Danny Phantom
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Danny Fenton & Tucker Foley & Sam Manson, Danny Fenton & Jack Fenton & Jazz Fenton & Maddie Fenton, Danny Fenton & Sidney Poindexter, Danny Fenton & Lunch Lady, Penelope Spectra & Bertrand, Jack Fenton/Maddie Fenton
Characters: Tucker Foley, Danny Fenton, Sam Manson, Jazz Fenton, Valerie Gray, Jack Fenton, Maddie Fenton, Angela Foley, Maurice Foley, Ida Manson, Jeremy Manson, Pamela Manson, Skulker (Danny Phantom), Desiree (Danny Phantom), Paulina Sanchez, Bertrand (Danny Phantom), Penelope Spectra, Wesley Weston, Walter Weston, Spike (Danny Phantom), Edward Lancer
Additional Tags: I'm back baby, The Fentons are a family of Geniuses, Mulltilingual Danny Fenton, Multilingual Tucker Foley, Multilingual Sam Manson, The Ghosts have backstories, Bisexual Male Character, Transgender Danny Fenton, Space Core! Danny, round 2 friends, reseting the world to fix your mistakes
Series: Part 2 of Monstrous Mundane Magick
Summary:
Ghosts are a part of life that none of them can get rid of, apparently, so now they just have to figure out how to manage them. Join the ghostly Trio as they deal with bad wishes, fight a demon (because of course ghosts aren't all there is) and even deal with a dragon or two! Will they catch any semblance of a break, or will the horrors of the supernatural break them?
Green mist, the crackle of the Specter Deflector mk1 resisting the energy in that mist, and then darkness. That was about what Tucker could remember of the fight if you could even call it that. After what felt like forever, he opened his eyes to find he was in his room. Sitting up with a groan, Tucker rubbed his head and took stock of the situation, just like a badass in a movie. “Still in all my clothes from the fight, Sydney isn’t here, Danny and Sam also aren’t here, room’s a mess as usual…” Grabbing his phone, Tucker checked for any panicked texts and saw none. It was just Friday again, Friday morning even. “Alright, so maybe cotton candy wasn’t her power. Ugh, whatever she did it clearly had no effect on me, so that means the Fentons at least know how to make a good protective belt.” Swinging his feet over the edge of the bed Tucker tapped the Specter Deflectorand paused. “Oh, wait, will whatever she did affect me if I take off the belt?”
Deciding he didn’t want to find out, Tucker climbed out of bed, brushed his teeth, changed most of his clothes, and checked more of his room. To his dismay, he found that Hunter’s mech was not, in fact, here in his room anymore. “Where the heck could that’ve gone? Mom and Dad didn’t move it last time it was this morning.” He paused, scratching his head. “Did they? Ugh, ok, that’s something to worry about later. If I ask they’ll just get upset that I lost track of it ‘because it’s dangerous’ or whatever.”
Heading downstairs to find his parents in the living room, Dad watching football and Mom knitting something, Tucker called out his usual good mornings and headed into the kitchen for some much-needed bacon, eggs, and hashbrowns. Headphones in, the latest Dumpty Humpty songs on, and the smell of food filling the kitchen, Tucker almost didn’t notice the oddness of getting practically no messages from Danny or Sam the whole morning. By now Sam should’ve been complaining about being sick, at the very least.
When he finished up his food, Tucker headed out the door, calling out to his parents, “Gonna go visit Danny, see ya later!” And before they could respond, he was out the door and putting on his helmet. The AI he’d rigged together pointed him toward his board, which he was more than grateful to still have even if Hunter’s suit would be useful, and soon he was in the air. Still, even with no air traffic since the boards weren’t exactly for sale - yet, he needed to talk with Danny about that - he stopped before texting Danny. He couldn’t just phase through a building instead of crashing because he wasn’t looking where he was going after all.
Hey Danny, where should we meet up? I’m omw to tell you something wild.
He guessed, of course, that Danny was at home, so he took off for FentonWorks. Music blaring in his ears, the wind tugging at his body as he did a loop, Tucker considered whether or not he should see if a random girl at the park would find his board cooler than the girls at school. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he blinked a few times, lifting up his helmet to make sure he was reading this right.
Astroboy: I’m at my uncle’s place, u know that.
“Alright, the ghost did more than just chuck me back to this morning, apparently. Why would she put Danny at Wes’ place?” Tucker readjusted his helmet and sped off, going a bit faster than before. He took a moment to take in everything below him, seeing no signs of the fight with Hunter that took place outside the library as he passed it. “There should be something there though… the plasma and the lasers melted holes into the walls and street.”
When Tucker reached the Weston home, he was almost certain of what had happened. The ghost had been some sort of wish granter, like a genie, and she’d heard him wish that Danny hadn’t gone into the portal. That explained the lack of Hunter’s marks on the town, without Danny being half-ghost the poacher had no reason to go after him. Maybe Danny just grew closer to Wes without the ghost stuff in the way? Regardless, Tucker went through the awkwardness of greeting Mr. Weston when he answered the door, “Hi there, I’m Tucker Foley. I’m not sure if you remember me but I’m Danny’s friend and he said he was here.”
“Ah yes, Tucker,” the ginger said, taking him in and clearly searching for a memory. “The one he made the hoverboards and the rockets with, right?”
“Yup! That’s me. May I come in?”
“Of course, sure. Shoes at the door and all that.” Tucker kicked off his shoes and Mr. Weston pointed him upstairs.
When Tucker finally found Danny, his good mood at the fact that his best friend didn’t have to worry about fighting ghosts or questioning who and what he was anymore dropped like a lead ball. It looked like a half-assed recreation of Danny’s actual room, desk and posters, and even his Horrorstation all together in one room. It didn’t have the murals of the stars on the ceiling or the walls like in Danny’s real room, but it looked too personalized to be a guest room. Danny looked up from his handheld and waved at him, looking for all the world like something was crushing him. “Hey, Tuck. What’s up?”
“More than I wanted to be, it looks like,” he muttered. Taking a seat on the bed next to Danny - and it was his bed, the exact same mattress - Tucker took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “How do I ask this?” His eyes swept over the room, marking where things should be but weren’t, until he landed on Danny again, looking concerned and tense and just as thin as he was before. He wasn’t as pale as he’d been growing but he was still paler than Tucker thought was healthy. “Right, ok. Rip off the bandaid I guess. Say a ghost has, for whatever reason, messed with my memories so that I remember things a whole lot different than they are now.” Danny scowled at the mention of ghosts, the same way Dr. Fenton did. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. “What’s happened since August?”
Danny sighed, leaning back on his hands and glaring at the ceiling. “Ghosts. Ghosts have fucking happened since August. Of course, they had to mess with you too, they already messed up everything else.” Danny looked at him again, trying to judge how much of Tucker was the Tucker he knew probably, and Tuck was doing the same. He’d never heard Danny refer to ghosts as a whole with such venom and ice in his voice. It wasn’t right. “After you convinced me how stupid it would be to actually go inside the Ghost Portal, Mom and Dad figured out what was wrong with it - an extra switch inside that would’ve had to be pressed to activate it - and after they fixed it, it worked. Jazz had a fucking fit when she realized she was wrong about Mom and Dad being delusional for believing in ghosts.” Danny looked down, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “I wish she was right.
“At first it seemed like the portal was working the same way all the other portals worked: a window into another world for Mom and Dad to look through and examine what was happening on the other side. But then something actually came out of the thing.” Danny shuddered and Tucker threw an arm around him. “I remember seeing the ectopus thing for the first time. It was so... wrong. Like a messed up hologram that made my eyes hurt to look at it. We all had weapons, thank the stars, but it took a while to get that thing back into the portal.”
“Ok, so it was a door and they didn’t want one of those yet, so they tried unplugging it,” Tucker said when Danny went quiet. He remembered this conversation when Hunter came up. “But it didn’t work that way. Self-sustaining or something, right?”
“A self-sustaining interdimensional intersection that was apparently powered on the other side as much as it was on ours. Stars, Tuck, the freakin Lunch Lady from the 50s came through - or rose up in the cafeteria kitchen, I guess. Either way, when Sam had her menu change thing done and we started a food fight with Dash over it, the ghost lady set the kitchen and cafeteria on fire because we were making a mess of her cafeteria.” Danny scoffed and Tucker winced. “Mom and Dad to the rescue with the Fenton Foamers, since regular extinguishers and stuff wasn’t working. That one got them attention,” he muttered. “The whole town suddenly had their eyes on us, so Mom and Dad did a press conference and then the whole world was paying attention. And then things went wrong.”
“Went wrong, how?” He almost didn’t want to know the answer but at the same time, he knew that he should know what happened because of his wish. This was his fault, and he needed to know what.
Danny curled up in a ball under his arm, and his breaths grew a bit shallower. Tucker was certain he wasn’t going to say anything but a moment later, Danny opened his mouth and forced out the words like they stung his mouth to say. “This giant fucking ghost hornet killed Jazz while I was in the counselor’s office and talking with Ms. Spectra about how the media circus was affecting my home life.” He leaned against Tucker, face streaked with tears and chest heaving. “Jazz fucking died of a giant hornet sting and I was talking to a counselor. One who fucking ratted my parents out called them neglectful and said they were endangering us at home and CPS shoved me into uncle Walter’s house.”
Tucker knew what being punched in the face felt like, Dash had made sure of it. Now, however, it felt a thousand times worse. Like someone had taken a hot poker right out of a fireplace and shoved it into his chest. “Oh my god.”
Tucker stayed with Danny as long as Mr. Weston would tolerate, getting the fact that the Mansons were moving out because of the danger in Amity out of him before they played some videogames to get all of this off of their minds. It didn’t, of course, because nothing could get this off of Tucker’s mind, but he had to at least try to get some normalcy out of this for Danny. He got curb stomped by a HellKnight and Danny took on being the Doom Slayer while Tuck stewed.
How the hell am I gonna fix this? That one thought bounced around in his head, the only thing besides static, and for what felt like forever, it didn’t go anywhere. Then he checked the news app on his phone for once in his life and saw that cotton candy had flooded the swap meet. I’ll fix it how I messed it up. I just need to find that ghost.
When Wes knocked on the door and told Danny it was time for dinner and heavily implied that Tucker should probably leave, he got up and squeezed Danny in a hug. He got squeezed right back, and it was weird how quickly he’d gotten used to the hum of energy under Danny’s skin that he couldn’t feel anymore. How odd it was to think this should hurt a bit more just because your friend was hugging you as hard as he could, but without superstrength.
On the flyby heading home, Tucker made a detour to the swap meet and started looking, though he wasn’t entirely certain what he was looking for. “Something Alladin-esque, I guess,” he muttered under his breath. Reaching into his jacket pocket thankfully produced the ecto signature tracker he was hoping for, and he followed it to several shards in front of a stand near the center of the cotton candy flood. That was good, at least. The woman putting things away gave Tucker a swell of hope, even if he felt she was probably wearing too much pink. Hopping off the board and removing his helmet he cleared his throat.
“Are you Madam Babazita?”
She stood, turning around to raise a brow at him. Pointing above at the sign that said Madam Babazita's Mystical Oddities. “Who else would I be, kid. Are you here to help with the cotton candy clean up?”
“Actually, I was here to ask about the uh genie that got released around here.” The Babazita turned her full attention to him, and Tucker flinched. There was a sharpness in her eyes and something… off. He didn’t want to make her mad.
“Oh really? You’re here about the djinni?” She looked him up and down and spread her arms out. “I didn’t see you here when her lamp broke.”
“Well, not this version of this morning, no.” He chuckled and cleared his throat again. “I jumped the gun and made a wish without realizing that she could grant them. The only reason I remember all of this, apparently, is because of this.” He raised his shirt to show off the Specter Deflector™. “It blocks out ghostly energy. Is there anything you can tell me about this genie ghost thing that would help me to fix the mess I made?”
Madam Babazita stared at Tucker for several long moments, her beakish nose raised high and her eyes sharp as a hawk’s. After another beat of silence, he opened his mouth to plead a better case than ‘I made a mess and need your help to fix it’ when she held up a hand. “Alright, kid. You look like whatever you did, you regret enough to keep bothering me about it. I’ll tell you about that djinni, but if you get hurt fighting her that’s your fault, not mine.”
“Got it.” She frowned at him and Tucker winced. “I understand, madam.”
Learning of Desiree’s life was a sad story to hear, but finding out that she was compelled to grant any wish she heard was a lifesaver. Sure, it sounded rough having to fulfill everyone else’s desires and not your own, but Tucker needed that kind of guarantee that he could get what he needed so long as he asked for it correctly. Unfortunately, that would have to wait. The sun was going down, and his parents probably didn’t want him out late with ghosts on the loose.
There were things Tucker could get away with, such as staying out particularly later than he should, ignoring all the vegetables on his plate and generally being less engaged in dinner discussion because his parents weren’t the parents he knew. Not exactly, anyway. A few months could really change someone. One thing he could not get away with, however, was taking a shower in Angela Foley’s household. So, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and took off the Specter Deflector™. Nothing happened. Opening his eyes, Tucker found nothing had changed. He could remember everything from how it was supposed to be and he didn’t get any new memories aligning with what Danny had told him. “That’s one mystery solved,” he muttered. That done he got rid of the rest and cleaned, trying to devise a plan.
When he woke up the next morning he had a plan. It was a relatively simple one. “Find Desiree, unwish my wish, and the world is fixed.” He put the belt back on with his new outfit of leather pants, a green sweater and a leather jacket he’d found sitting in his closet. “If she can change reality this much then who knows what else she can do? She probably remembers me shooting at her.”
Even with the wildness of a ghost messing around with people’s desires and a huge, overly public case regarding the town crazies who discovered the afterlife - a thing that Tucker was going to file under ‘think about in more depth later’ - life still went on. There were movies to attend, and people still went to them. This was not the place where Tucker expected to be dealing with a ghost of any sort. And yet, here the tracker pointed him, leading to Paulina… chibified. “I know chibis are supposed to be cute, and on-screen they are, but this? This is horrifying, and I don’t like it. I dunno how anyone else thinks this is cute.” Everyone in the theater was going nuts over Paulina, who steadily grew into a seven-foot-tall chibi version of herself. “Oh wow, the weebs are feeding her power or whatever. That’s just great.”
Riffling through his jacket pocket, Tucker felt the handles for familiar weapons - an ecto-pistol, a tube of lipstick that also shot lasers, the wrist ray he should have on and was now putting on- but none of those guaranteed he’d be able to get the ghost energy out of Paulina. Was this a good idea to act on? “Only one way to find out…” Aim, charge, fire. A beam of green struck chibilina in the forehead, dead on, and her supernatural form rippled with a green light. Everyone turned to Tucker, who sucked in a sharp breath, ran for his board, and flew away.
“Ok, I don’t have a weapon on me that can push the ghostly energy out of someone,” he muttered, hoping and praying that Paulina couldn’t also fly. “Good to know. Ugh, where would I find a wish obsessed djinni?” He looked down below him, and up above him even, hoping he’d spot any kind of clue as toa car flew within an inch of Tucker’s face and it’s tailwind dragged him into a spin.
Once he corrected himself in the air and almost caught all of his breath back, Tucker focused on the car zooming around through the air with green energy pulsing through it. “I know we were talking about making flying cars happen, but not like this.” He flew off and after the car, having to push the engine of his board to keep up, and knocked on the driver’s side window. “Uh, hello, this is technically speeding, I do believe.”
“DUUUUDE WHAT THE HELL!?” The blond surfer stereotype screamed, bringing Tucker to question his style and location. There were no beaches in Minnesota.
“Roll down the window!” Tucker pointed at the button, which the guy thankfully hit, and Tucker reached in to grab the wheel and steer the man away from the city. “Alright, so I don’t know how to drive exactly but I’m pretty sure there should be some brakes down there.” No sooner did he say that than the car stopped. It stopped dead in the air, and gravity took hold - a thing it did at inconvenient times. Thankfully, Tuck didn’t have to scream for the man to hit the gas again since this sudden a drop kept him from being able to catch the air needed for screaming. When they started moving forward and up again, Tucker clung to the car door and wheezed in his helmet, shaking his head. “Find. Empty. Parking spot. Think about going down. Slowly.”
“Oh what, just fuckin think about it going down smoothly and it’ll go down?” Tucker, who was on his hoverboard of all things, was being glared at. By some surfing wanna be. He had no time for this kind of bullshit.
“DID YOU WISH FOR IT TO START FLYING AND IT FLEW?!” the guy flinched and nodded, face screwing up with concentration as he steered the car. Tucker felt free to let go as the vehicle descended toward an empty-ish parking lot and began to slow down. When the car landed and Tucker hovered only a foot off the ground, the man practically kicked his door open and wrapped Tucker in a hug. “Whoa! Ok, ok this is happening.”
“Thank you! Fuck, man, thank you so much! I almost died, flying around in a car!”
“Yeah, I’m looking to find the person who did this so I can stop her.” Tucker gently pushed the man away and started floating up higher, his visor flashing with a status update on his board. It might need maintenance after pulling speeds like that. “You just do your thing, probably avoid using this car for a while. Buh bye.” That said, he sped off into the sky.
“You’re serious?”
“Would I be telling you this if I wasn’t 100% serious, Sam?” Tucker groaned, sitting on his board on the roof of the school. It was the only place he could think of that’d be abandoned on a Saturday. “I know how to be serious, you know!”
“I dunno,” Sam drawled, “you can be pretty insensitive.”
“Enough to joke about messing up everyone’s lives with a wish?” Tucker glared at his phone. “Sam, Jazz is dead in this timeline! I wouldn’t joke about being the cause of that!”
The line was silent for a long moment, and he checked to make sure he hadn’t been hung up on. Finally, Sam sighed the crackle of it in the receiver matching the static in his head when he learned about that little tidbit. “Fine. Ok, let’s pretend I believe you. Why do you want my help instead of Danny’s?”
“Pardon?”
“Danny’s the one with access codes to all the weapons his folks have for fighting ghosts, not me. Why are you telling me this instead of Danny?”
“First of all, I have the weapons I need to fight her if it comes to that, which gods I hope it doesn’t.” With all the chaos she was causing, Tucker didn’t want to get into an actual fight with Desiree. He had a feeling Danny wouldn’t have won that fight with his powers either. “Second of all: gee Sam, I wonder why I didn’t tell Danny that I essentially got his sister killed with a hasty wish?” The line was silent, and Tucker took a few deep breaths. “I’m sorry, if I sound harsh or anything I just. You’re the one who comes up with most of our winning ideas, and I don’t wanna hurt Danny any more than I already have. All I need to do is find Desiree and make a wish. Any ideas on where she might be?”
“Well, she might be at a place where people typically go to make wishes. Everyone has a desire to ask for pretty much all day but a wishing well or fountain or something would probably do the trick.” There was a loud clacking of keys and Tucker winced.
“You need to ease up on that poor keyboard.”
“It’ll be fine. There’s a wishing fountain around the middle of Magnus park. Heck, toss a coin in and make a wish of your own, that might get her attention.”
Why hadn’t he thought of that? “Thanks, Sam, you’re the best.”
“You know I am. And Tucker? Be safe, or as safe as you can be.”
“Safe as anyone can be going after a djinni, yeah. I will be.” Tucker nodded and hung up, slipping on his helmet. Putting in the directions for the Magnus park fountain through his PDA, Tucker took off into the sky and hoped that things went even a bit ok.
Finding Walter Weston as he wished for a million bucks and peridot green mist swirled around him like a caress as a familiar voice spoke was not what Tucker would call ok. Still, he took the opportunity to stop another stupid wish from getting twisted - a million bucks could be quite a few deer or even just that much money crushing him under its weight. Slowing down enough to not break anything, Tucker swerved, yanking Mr. Weston up out of the smoke, and dropped him off a few meters away. Looking up, Tucker saw an infuriated Desiree glaring down at him and shouting in a language he didn’t understand.
That was fine though. He didn’t need to understand her just yet. She understood wishes in English just fine, clearly. “I wish that I hadn’t interrupted your conversation with Danny!” The djinni stared at him, eyes bright red with obvious fury, but her hands glimmer pink and green, and the mist wrapped around him again.
“So you have wished it, so shall it be!”
#Danny Phantom#Tucker Foley#Angel Foley#Maurice Foley#Danny Fenton#Wesly Weston#Walter Weston#Paulina Sanchez#Desiree#fanfiction#Phanfiction#fanphiction#fanfic#phanfic#fanphic#phanphiction#phanphic#Rexy Writes#Monstrous to Supernatural
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CORONAPICUS-19 AND THE WORLD
I couldn’t gather the excitement, thrill or enthusiasm to work in a lost cause; like the mental wank of writing for the Blood (1997) universe on speculation signifies to me now.
If I want to write on the horror genre, I should do it originally, or not do it at all, do you agree?
Sometimes, you have to let your dreams go. Sometimes you are forced to do it. Other times you just outgrow the dream and it pales in comparison to your newer dreams.
I matured mentally and grew up too much in the last half-decade. The Blood project was something I started more than seven years ago.
To go back to something like it now is painfully boring for me today.
A pandemic is flogging the world while the PTBs are having a field day.
The news are draining. The psycho-social testing and experimenting with the curtailing of the world population’s freedoms is no joke.
What are you gonna do about it? I’m going to be inside and trying to bring good content to this blog until the madness passes.
F*CK BLOOD
Where were we in The Horror Vivarium, oh yeah, in speculating about Blood 1997? But you know what? I decided to lay it off.
Writing for that specific intellectual property pushes me out of my focus.
One that involves a way different approach to life. A non-selfish, non-leadership-oriented, non-egomaniacal one.
I don’t want the underlying sub-text of what I’m sharing publically to be that what I said I was going to do is hard work and that I flaked out.
No, it’s not like that. I guess I did everything I could. If shortly, I could be commissioned by a production company, producer and/or director to do it for pay, I’ll gladly and super-enthusiastically do it.
That needs serious business planning and daily hustling without touching the thing as it stands now.
It needs networking and exhausting all the avenues required to bring the saga to the big screen. Most difficult of all, it involves becoming an evangelist for the Blood cause.
To be in constant touch with the Blood community, and constantly researching the IP rights and then, after the proper knowledge about the rights was acquired, hustling with decision-making big-wigs is the last thing I would want to do at the moment.
HERE AND NOW
I did not post to this blog because when I was about to start working in what I said I will, the COVID-19 pandemic started.
Remember 2012? Around that year, a lot of channelers and conspiracy theorists say there was going to be a lot of changes. This is a kind of trashy knowledge from the dumpster of paranormal rejects, but you can’t deny this stuff is fun to read.
One theory was that there was going to be a fork in the timeline. There was going to be an Earth A, and Earth B. Earth A would continue evolving towards the singularity and Earth B will devolve to brutes and barbarism and this civilization will end.
Of course, I didn’t take it seriously, but if you think of it and consider it, that theory is a great way of knowing how to act in a situation like the one the planet is going through right now.
Are you going to confirm that you are on Earth A, taking the pandemic seriously? Still, knowing that almost nothing is impossible for current science and that sooner or later this will pass?
OR
Are you going to sink deep in crowd-think and allow yourself to be manipulated by whatever astral-technological psy operation the PTBs deployed? Moreover, are you going to be part of the problem not following the instructions and not believing in what your government tells you?
During the last few days, I have gravitated between mainstream media and a conspiracy theory forum.
It’s sad to read threads of participants denying the situation and alleging that it’s all a lie and a conspiracy to establish the NWO.
The news tell a very different story and if you tend to worry I urge you not to read them, or watch them because they can worry you, a lot.
Instead, go to authoritative sources of your choice and learn everything you need about the virus and how it totally changed the world in two months.
It was because of coronavirus that I decided to ditch Blood 1997.
Since I had my work mentally laid out for like up to now, when the epidemic started I had some serious organizational work to do.
The descent into global chaos that the virus brought plus a digital disaster that I suffered in late February, plus the need to keep focusing on work, made the working on Blood pretty much impossible.
EXTRO
Now that there’s global upheaval and forced reclusion going on, it is the time to keep you, my fellow horrorsters, entertained as much as I can.
I’m reading and researching to bring you quality horror content in the weeks ahead.
I also hope that I’ll be able to bring new, unique content on end-game and end times because I have an edge on that branch of knowledge too.
End-game content can help others in many ways. Now, that the fabric of reality is melting down, more than ever.
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Nightcore is NOT a foundation! Nightcore is run by a sole individual and does NOT take donations!! We allow people to add to the cost of a book or Nightcore item by CHOICE and EVERY money transaction will be returned with an item from Nightcore. Mental Health Awareness is the reason for Nightcore I took a ten-year break in writing and had NO plans of coming back until I decided I can do something great with my writing a very personal subject that I am passionate about because let me tell you the mental health system is GARBAGE and I’m going to take every chance I get to change that and giving part of my proceeds is just a tiny part you the Sinners are the bigger part helping me spread the word so I can do my best to Educate Support and change the broken system! Thank all of you! #mentalhealthsupport #loveisneverwrong
#NIGHTCORESINNERS
#mentalhealsupport
#loveisneverwrong #mentalhealthmatters #mentalhealthhealng
#mentalhealthhug
#mentalhealthrelationship
#mentalhealthdating
#mentalhealthtouch
#mralhealthlove
#mentalhealthsingles
#HorrorCommunity #HorrorFamily #horror #HorrorFam #WritingCommunity #writing #writerslife #writinglife #writers
#HorrorTimes #HorrorStation #GoreQueen #SUPERGORE #HammerHorrorPodcast #HorrorStation #HorrorPodcast Oklahoma Horror Network Oklahoma Horror Oklahoma Freethinking Singles and Minglers for Atheist and Agnostics Oklahoma Horror Fans The Everyday Witch Horror-fix Horror Station HORROR BOOKS FOR EVERYONE Blood Rites Horror Blood Bound Books
If you are a screenprinting company we cannot take donations but we will supply you with free promotion on our site and in our books if you can help us with shirts to sell and we will give you a % of the sales same for any sticker company Bloodred Prints StickerYou
I am hellbent on making a change right now someone has a gun in their mouth with no support and they think they are alone and no one cares know how I know because that was me!! We can make a difference!
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to what I have decided to call the #screamingforthesilent fund
This is an account where Nightcore Six Sex Satan puts money so we can hold events and do work to change the mental health system. It doesn't matter if it's a penny or 5k you will get a book or a piece of digital art something in return and we do this every Monday!
you simply click this link https://cash.app/$Nightcorestories choose
your amount to leave an email address so we can send you something awesome and as always highest amount will get something extra cool! we are working on getting T-shirts and stickers soon as well ! I am a suicide survivor I know the pain of Mental illness and it hurts and it is an everyday challenge we can make a difference where our minds are more important than the almighty dollar which is how it works now and it is broken and together we can fix it!
SIXSEXSATAN
NIGHTCORESINNERS
mentalhealsupport
loveisneverwrong #mentalhealthmatters #mentalhealthhealng
mentalhealthhug
mentalhealthrelationship
mentalhealthdating
mentalhealthtouch
mralhealthlove
mentalhealthsingles
HorrorCommunity #HorrorFamily #horror #HorrorFam #WritingCommunity #writing #writerslife #writinglife #writers #writer#instabook #constantreader #mummy #ancientegypt #egypt #egyptology #popvinyl #popfunko
historybecause #horrorcollector #horrorfilm #horrormovies #horrorcommunity #horroraddict #horrorlife #horrorfan #instahorror #girlswholovehorror
HorrorTimes #HorrorStation #GoreQueen #SUPERGORE #HammerHorrorPodcast #HorrorStation #HorrorPodcast
#SIXSEXSATAN#NIGHTCORESINNERS#mentalhealsupport#loveisneverwrong#mentalhealthmatters#mentalhealthhealng#mentalhealthhug#mentalhealthrelationship#mentalhealthdating#mentalhealthtouch#mralhealthlove#mentalhealthsingles#HorrorCommunity#HorrorFamily#horror#HorrorFam#WritingCommunity#writing#writerslife#writinglife#writers#writer#instabook#constantreader#mummy#ancientegypt#egypt#egyptology#popvinyl#popfunko
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Nightcore Books rages War against Broken system
Author Jake Bannerman a suicide survivor off of the writing grid for over ten years has returned to the scene
TEN YEARS AFTER RUNNING ON FIRE INTO THE HORROR WORLD WITH HIS FIDDLE FINGER RAISED IN PRIDE BURNING FOR ALL TO SEE AUTHOR JAKE BANNERMAN WENT INTO HIDING AFTER 2 BOOK RELEASES FAMILY OF DOG: THE HARVEST AND THE PITCHFORK DIARIES LEFT BEHIND WERE THE PITCHFORK DIARIES 2 AND THE 2 REMAINING BOOKS IN THE Family OF DOG TRILOGY “RETURN TO SENDER AND “AMERICAN REICHMARE”
DIVING INTO MARRIED AND FATHERLY CLARK KENT MODE HE ABANDONED HIS BOOKS AND HIS WRITING TO PURSUE HIS FIRST TRUE LOVE MUSIC AND WENT ON TO HOST A SUCCESSFUL SYNDICATED PODCAST AND RUN A PR COMPANY. ALWAYS SEARCHING FOR A DESIRE AND MEANING HE STOPPED EVERYTHING ALTOGETHER MUSIC THE WRITING AND JUST BECAME……
ALWAYS CONVINCED HIS BOOKS WERE UNLIKE ANY OTHER HE WENT THROUGH A LIFE CHANGE LIKE THE REST OF THE WORLD IN 2020 THAT PUT HIM IN THE MIND FRAME OF IM JUST GOING TO BE ME DAMN THE CONSEQUENCE NOT THAT THIS WASN’T HIS WAY ALREADY BUT THIS TIME AROUND HE WAS NOT LISTENING TO WARNINGS OR HOLDING BACK PUNCHES.
WITH HIS MIDDLE FINGER STILL ON FIRE AND NOW FIRMLY CRUSHED BETWEEN HIS TEETH HE RETURNS ON A MISSION R RELEASING HIS BOOKS WITH NEW ARTWORK AND LOST IN THE SHUFFLE INTERVIEWS PICTURES NOTES AND A
RENEWED FERVOR.
#spooky
#film
#horrorcommunity
#horrorfilm
#movies
#horroraddict
#terror
#dark
#goth
#thriller
#gore
#horrorcollector
gothic
horrorjunkie
slasher
#loveisneverwrong #mentalhealthmatters #mentalhealthhealng
#mentalhealthhug
#mentalhealthrelationship
#mentalhealthdating
#mentalhealthtouch
#mralhealthlove
#mentalhealthsingles
HorrorCommunity #HorrorFamily #horror #HorrorFam #WritingCommunity #writing #writerslife #writinglife #writers #writer#instabook #constantreader #mummy #ancientegypt #egypt #egyptology #popvinyl #popfunko
historybecause #horrorcollector #horrorfilm #horrormovies #horrorcommunity #horroraddict #horrorlife #horrorfan #instahorror #girlswholovehorror
HorrorTimes #HorrorStation #GoreQueen #SUPERGORE #HammerHorrorPodcast #HorrorStation #HorrorPodcast
Limited to 666 copies Nightcore Short story
"Kill for Jesus" is on sale at www.nightcorebooks.com
NIGHTCORE And Jake Bannerman want your soul
and invite you to Hell https://sixsexsatan.blogspot.com/ NJIGHTCORE PHONE (405) 595-0083
#HorrorCommunity#HorrorFamily#horror#HorrorFam#WritingCommunity#writing#writerslife#writinglife#writers#writer#instabook#constantreader#mummy#ancientegypt#egypt#egyptology#popvinyl#popfunko#historybecause#horrorcollector#horrorfilm#horrormovies#horrorcommunity#horroraddict#horrorlife#horrorfan#instahorror#girlswholovehorror#HorrorTimes#HorrorStation
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I couldn’t gather the excitement, thrill or enthusiasm to work in a lost cause; like the mental wank of writing for the Blood (1997) universe on speculation signifies to me now.
If I want to write on the horror genre, I should do it originally, or not do it at all, do you agree?
Sometimes, you have to let your dreams go. Sometimes you are forced to do it. Other times you just outgrow the dream and it pales in comparison to your other dreams.
I matured mentally and grew up too much in the last half-decade. The Blood project was something I started more than seven years ago.
To go back to something like it now is painfully boring for me today.
A pandemic is flogging the world and the PTBs are having a field day testing and experimenting with the curtailing of the world population’s freedoms. What are you gonna do about it?
DITCHING BLOOD
Writing for that specific intellectual property pushes me out of my focus.
One that involves a way different approach to life. A non-selfish, non-leadership-oriented, non-egomaniacal one.
I don’t want the underlying sub-text of what I’m sharing publically to be that what I said I was going to do is hard work and that I flaked out.
No, it’s not like that. I guess I did everything I could. If in the near future, I could be commissioned by a production company, producer and/or director to do it for pay, I’ll gladly and super-enthusiastically do it.
But that needs serious business planning and daily hustling without touching the thing as it stands now. It needs networking and exhausting all the avenues required to bring the saga to the big screen.
Most difficult of all, it involves becoming an evangelist for the Blood cause.
To be in constant touch with the Blood community, and constantly researching the IP rights and then, after the proper knowledge about the rights was acquired, hustling with decision-making big-wigs is the last thing I want to do at the moment.
HERE AND NOW
I did not post to this blog because when I was about to start working in what I said I will, the covid-19 pandemic started.
Since I had my work mentally laid out for like up to now, when the epidemic started I had some serious organizational work to do.
The descent into global chaos that the virus brought plus a digital disaster that I suffered in late February, plus the need to keep focusing on work, made the working on Blood pretty much impossible.
Now that there’s global upheaval and forced reclusion going on, it is the time to keep you, my fellow horrorsters, entertained as much as I can.
I’m reading and researching to bring you quality horror content in the weeks ahead.
I also hope that I’ll be able to bring new, unique content on end-game and end times because I have an edge on that branch of knowledge too. End-game content can help others in many ways. Now, that the fabric of reality is melting down, more than ever.
Image source: i-am-arcahm
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