A Story You Want to Read: The Game )

Discuss any questions in English. Practise your writing skills.

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#76

Сообщение acapnotic »

Kind_Punk, a strange story, but interesting.
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#77

Сообщение Kind_Punk »

acapnotic пишет: 14 ноя 2020, 08:02 Kind_Punk, a strange story, but interesting.
I read a lot of Reddit's Nosleep stories, so wrote one myself )
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#78

Сообщение Thomasaxose »

sorry , i got u worng .
u mean As a person who wants to hire a web designer/developer, then i guess its your uniqueness
that is why i should hire u rather than others
give me good resaons
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#79

Сообщение Kind_Punk »

A real dream I had. Do not try it yourself )

Nightmare #1

Where I am? Why can't I move? Who's here? Why there is a dog?

Am I at home? Get myself to move, legs on the floor, slowly crawling.

Not at home? I do not have such a big room. Finally I can get up.

Voices? Who is this guy? Does he know me?

Friendly one. I pretend that I have amnesia. I'm looking around.

The room is the size of the stadium. Ceiling is about 6 meters high or more. Instead of walls, there is glass.

I look out. Behind the windows is apocalyptic landscape. The pit has a potato size of a car in it. Next to it grows something like a radish two times more than this potato.

I understand that I'm in a dream. I do not know what to do.

The guy asks questions. I do not know what to answer, I pretend to not understand what is happening.

Who is he? How come he is here? How did I get here?

I continue playing. I look around the room. Near the wall lies clothes, but they are either small or big to me, and mostly female. At one of the walls are some pairs of sneakers about 50 sizes.

I wear something like shorts.

I say, it seems, I came to my parents, but it seems I do not live with them. And they probably left for visiting relatives.

I find something like a robe, I put it on, I say, well, it's like OK. The guy nods.

I say, so what, go to drink beer?

... waking up.
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#80

Сообщение VictorB »

Kind_Punk пишет: 05 июн 2021, 20:06 I say, so what, go to drink beer?

... waking up.
LOL! I'd added the following punch line:
Every night dream which I have during the bender I'm going through for the last week, ends up alike--with a suggestion of having some more booze. Since this time it's beer, I'm dead sure that yesterday that was the last I took in before I conked out.
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#81

Сообщение Kind_Punk »

VictorB пишет: 05 июн 2021, 21:55 Every night dream which I have during the bender I'm going through for the last week, ends up alike--with a suggestion of having some more booze. Since this time it's beer, I'm dead sure that yesterday that was the last I took in before I conked out.
Well, drink had something to do with it )

Also, bad drinks in a good ole 90th gave a hell of a dream ) Pity I don't remember them.
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#82

Сообщение VictorB »

Kind_Punk пишет: 05 июн 2021, 22:07 bad drinks in a good ole 90th
Изображение
:-)
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#83

Сообщение Kind_Punk »

VictorB пишет: 05 июн 2021, 22:14:-)
Lol we called it "Piano" )
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#84

Сообщение Chaika »

Kind_Punk пишет: 05 июн 2021, 22:07 in a good ole 90th
не понимаю. 90th = девяностый
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#85

Сообщение Yety »

Kind_Punk пишет: 05 июн 2021, 22:07 in a good ole 90th

Remember the good old 1980s?
When things were so uncomplicated?
I wish I could go back there again
And everything could be the same.
СпойлерПоказать
I've got a ticket to the moon
I'll be leaving here any day soon
Yeah, I've got a ticket to the moon
But I'd rather see the sunrise in your eyes.

Got a ticket to the moon
I'll be rising high above the earth so soon
And the tears I cry might turn into the rain
That gently falls upon your window
You'll never know.

Ticket to the moon (ticket to the moon)
Ticket to the moon (ticket to the moon)
Ticket to the moon (ticket to the moon).

Fly, fly through a troubled sky
Up to a new world shining bright, oh, oh.

Flying high above
Soaring madly through the mysteries that come
Wondering sadly if the ways that led me here
Could turn around and I would see you there
Standing there (and I would see you there, waiting...)

Ticket to the moon
Flight leaves here today from Satellite Two
As the minutes go by, what should I do?
I paid the fare, what more can I say?
It's just one way (only one way)...
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#86

Сообщение acapnotic »

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#87

Сообщение VictorB »

Kind_Punk, acapnotic,Yety,
Yety пишет: 25 июн 2021, 08:06 Remember the good old 1980s?
When things were so uncomplicated?
I wish I could go back there again
And everything could be the same.
Since it was the cusp between the "good" old 80s and the dashing 90s that settled my future--no matter how I see it, good or bad--I sometimes wish I could go back in life no farther than that.
I think I'd most probably have changed my mind, opting for just a couple of other possible choices God offered me then to make.
Yet, there're two things which kind of worry me about that.
First, having made different choices, would have I been as optimistic about my future as I was then?
(Whether my wishes about it had come true or not, is another, stand-alone question)
Second, wouldn't I, afterwards, have regretted making them like I do now not having made them?
Anyway, it wouldn't have helped avoiding the aging and all this covidish madman's stuff I, together with you, have been going through for so long a time span:)
So, be all well!
Последний раз редактировалось Aksamitka 27 июн 2021, 16:06, всего редактировалось 1 раз.
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#88

Сообщение acapnotic »

VictorB пишет: 27 июн 2021, 13:35 Anyway, it wouldn't have helped avoiding the aging and all this covidish madman's stuff
You could have avoided both by choosing to live fast and die young. ;)
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#89

Сообщение VictorB »

acapnotic пишет: 27 июн 2021, 18:20 You could have avoided both by choosing to live fast and die young. ;)
If I'd been born to die young, any choice that I might face decades ago would have led me straight to the graveyard.
At the same time, more than one third of the guys I communed with in the "good" eighties didn't live to the age of thirty.
Saying that they lived fast, abusing drugs and alcohol, would be a rather crude thing to say. There weren't Pavka Korchagin types among us to truly live fast, as I see it, not as it's being sung in the song you have in mind
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#90

Сообщение Kind_Punk »

VictorB пишет: 27 июн 2021, 13:35dashing 90s
Frankly say, sometimes I miss 90's spirit, so to say. Mass-media feels free, people are not supposed to hide their beer on street, you can hire every second car as a taxi, and more )
acapnotic пишет: 27 июн 2021, 18:20 live fast and die young
Too old for that, lol. But I thought about that. But what struck me was 'Sid Vicious should learn how to play bass-guitar and, like, live a bit'
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#91

Сообщение Kind_Punk »

Chaika пишет: 25 июн 2021, 00:33 не понимаю. 90th = девяностый
90s. 1990-2000. My usual mistake )
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#92

Сообщение VictorB »

Kind_Punk пишет: 05 июн 2021, 20:06 A real dream I had.
It's a dull, moonless night.
My platoon is being airborne to an assault point.
This will be my umpteenth night jump.
Not a rookie, I've learned how to suppress my nerves on an airdrop mission.
So, there's nothing else for me to do but to catnap until the signal "get ready" goes.
When it goes, I check the timing set for the chute to automatically deploy.
I am the first one to step into the dark emptiness of the night sky.
Ready to jump, I'm clutching the ripcord tightly to the chute.
You'll need that thingy in case of malfunction, for this is not only a night drop, but also high altitude – high opening.
After the canopies are open, we're to soar, using the guide ropes, the distance of over forty kilometers to come down on the quiet.
Leaving the plane I start counting down the fifteen seconds.
So, there I'm falling down, ready for the whack the harness will give to my groin once the canopy blooms.
The seconds I've been counting down have passed, but I'm still in free fall.
That's when the ripcord comes in.
So I pull it, hear the hiss of the lines as the canopy goes out.
I do feel the jolt, but it is much softer a jolt than one would expect.
I look up to check the strings--fuck, they are twisted.
I start kicking in the direction of the twist, which is supposed to solve the problem.
It might, in theory, and maybe it did work in practice for someone, but that someone wasn't me.
Anyway, I know what to do, and now I'm doing it, but the strange thing is that I can't untwist the fucking strings, hard as I try.
It goes this way: kicking in one direction I untwist them alright, but they start twisting in the opposite direction again and again.
And going repeatedly through this maneuvering, I'm wasting the precious seconds left for me to get rid of the main chute and deploy the reserve one.
But to do this I need to cut free the strings of the main chute.
So, I'm reaching for the strap-cutting knife, but find out that it isn't there.
How it fell out, I don't have the slightest idea.
Meanwhile, the earth is nearing with horrifying speed, and what was supposed to be a HAHO jump, for me becomes a HALO. (Of course, if I make it with the reserve chute.)
And how far from my platoon I will land if I do make it, God only knows.
Having lost the strap knife, I'm taking my AK-47's bayonet from its scabbard when I hear a loud flap above me.
The jolt I receive at that same moment strikes the bayonet from my hand.
A blind panic was about to strike me, but now, I am looking up to the canopy above my head.
Oh, my God, the fucking thing has opened in the end!
Even if saying that it has bloomed enough to absolutely guarantee my survival at landing would be too mild an exaggeration, I've had my little bit of luck.
I'm looking down.
It's pitch dark there.
At a loss as what to do next, I decide to wake up and get ready for the meet with the boys.
Today is August 2.
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#93

Сообщение VictorB »

Kind_Punk пишет: 05 июн 2021, 20:06 Where I am? Why can't I move? Who's here?
I'm lying on my back, eyes closed, muscles relaxed, hands stretched along the body.
There's nothing strange about my lying so, since this is my favorite fall-to-sleep position.
What seems oddish to me is that I don't remember having gone through my bedtime routine.
The other, no less strange, thing is that I have not changed that sleeping position.
Indeed, isn't it somewhat abnormal to wake up in the position you intentionally take to only initiate the process of sleeping?
"What time may it be?" I'm wondering, unwilling to open my eyes nor stir a finger.
Surely, it's not the daytime; otherwise, I'd be feeling the light through the eyelids.
Besides, I would hear the sound of the street coming through the window, which I never close tightly going to bed.
So it's night. Something has broken my sleep--what it was exactly, I don't give a fuck.
Do I want anything to get up for--some water or a piss?
No.
Do I need to change the position I'm lying in?
Why should I?
Do I have anything at all to worry about?
Not a thing.
Well then, to my dreams I'm returning!
Oh, here's yet another--I'm sure it'll be the last one--thought which flashes feebly thought my drowsy mind:
Who was the asshole I, awakening, thought I heard saying, "Shit, we are losing him", and what and whom did he mean?
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#94

Сообщение VictorB »

Kind_Punk,
Hey, buddy,
Thanks for giving it a thumbs up, which means that you, at least, have not missed it.
I really appreciate the time you've taken to read this piece of crap, and I hope to see a fresh, hilarious one coming from you:-)
You know, for me, yours are quite inspiring pieces of writing to want more. Please, keep going!
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#95

Сообщение Kind_Punk »

VictorB пишет: 28 июл 2021, 14:21piece of crap
Don't underestimate your writings. Even if you think it's a sort of BS, there are people who think it's like, worth reading )
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#96

Сообщение VictorB »

Kind_Punk,
Thanks, mate, you've made my day! And you know how dear your opinion is to me :-)
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#97

Сообщение VictorB »

Kind_Punk,
To you, my friend, as well as to [mention]acapnotic[/mention] and [mention]Yety[/mention] I dedicate this piece of writing:-)

The Forest

One of the last days of a short summer in the Northwest Russia.
A military summer training camp somewhere off Tikhvin
A calm, clear, moonlit night.
2 AM.
***
Half an hour ago I was wakened up by the sergeant of the guard to spend the two following hours on watch, patrolling my part of the camp perimeter.
Despite the twenty-minute march to the post, I'm still sleepy and I'm trying hard to put an end to fits of yawning.
Having taken the post, I'm looking around.
On my right and left, in the distance, I see the ghostly silhouettes of other two watchmen, the bayonets fixed to their AKs gleaming dimly in the moonlight.
A hundred yards ahead, the two rows of barbed-wire separate the rest of the field on which the camp stands, from a dense old forest.
They say that in 1941-1942 it was chock full of the partisans, and even these days the so called "black diggers" keep going into it in search of the yet unearthed rusty items of weaponry that've been resting there since the War.
Being on watch, I've got nothing to do but watch and listen, and I'm eye-scanning that forest as the most probable area from which there might appear anything I am here to guard the sleeping camp against.
As for what I can hear, it's only the rustle of grass clippings my feet make as I pace along, and the distant, barely audible whisper of the now dark forest.
At some moment it seems to me that I'm about to discern some words in that whisper, and I stop to hear what it is.
And here I am, listening to and gazing at the forest, and I start feeling that IT is gazing back to me.
Suddenly the wind starts blowing, and louder becomes the whisper coming from the forest.
Now the sky is getting cloudy and it gets quite dark and is getting darker and darker.
Now I feel the growing intensity of the forest's gaze, and I think I hear my name being whispered.
In a few minutes the darkness becomes inky, and the wind gets blustery, and the forest is now roaring.
I feel queasy.
My head aches terribly, my knees are getting weak, I can hardly breathe.
I think I'm going mad when I hear those two on my right and left screaming wildly...
Then come the long bursts of their AKs, which reminds me of my own one, but my hands betray me...
I'm hollering like a banshee...
Am I going to die? I don't want to, but I do feel I'm dying... Dying... Dying... The last thought throbs through my agonizing mind:

What the fuck am I doing here? Didn't I do my two-year army stint twenty years ago?
Wake up, asshole!
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#98

Сообщение VictorB »

The Third Degree (A Nightmare #X)

When I open my eyes, the first thing I can see is a blurred outline of someone sitting opposite me.
I focus to see who it is, and the silhouette turns out to be that of a man.
Now I see that it's a middle-aged man of strong build with silver-gray crew cut.
A black face mask and mirrored sunglasses he's wearing cover the features he could be recognized by.
What's left of the face for my observation, doesn't ring any bell.
A total stranger to me, he's sitting motionlessly in an armchair, staring at me intently.
I can't see his stare, hidden by the huge sunglasses, but I somehow feel its intentness.
There's something decidedly odd about the settings I find myself having been put at.
It's a brightly-lit, spacious, high-ceilinged room, its bare walls painted glossy white.
There're no items of furniture other than those we are sitting in.
But whereas the man is seated in the office armchair, I am sat in a sort of a dentist's armchair.
That, alone, wouldn't make it that odd to me if I hadn't been handcuffed to its arms.
On top of that, my mouth is gagged with something soft which I take--I can't say why-- for a big pincushion.
Now, I can hear the clank of metal and the rustle of movement behind my back.
There's someone else in the room, I don't need to turn my head to find out who's there and what they are busy with at the moment. I've already figured that out.
So, I'm going to be tortured.
They want to know who did it, and they're sure I know what exactly has been done.
Well, let it be what it will be. I'll never become a traitor, even if they start cutting me into small pieces.
That I'm sitting in this armchair may only mean that either my other two companions haven't yet been interrogated, or if they had been they were able to stand it and not to confess to anything.
This thought is rushing through my mind as the activity behind me becomes busier and busier, and the stare from the man opposite me gets harder and harder.
I just can't help feeling that stare with the pores of my skin, and I am getting horrified by it more and more, and far more than by the clanking of the instruments being prepared for the torture.
To avoid that creepy stare, I shut my eyes tight when I hear the starer addressing his words to me:
"I'll ask you only once, and if I don't hear who did it, I'll leave you face to face with the guys behind you and just go out of here to never be back."
A brief pause follows; then he goes on:
"I'm not giving you any time to decide whether you tell it or not. Now, just nod your yes and I'll take out the gag to hear your answer. You got it?"
Shit, did I get that! I shake my head, and the man stands up to leave the room.
But...
Stop! There's something wrong with all this madman stuff, dreadfully wrong and unrealistically nightmarish.
What is it? Is it the voice? Why is it so familiar to me? So incredibly, intimately familiar...
Bingo!
***
With a start, I wake up to hear that same voice saying loudly, "Time to get up, boys!"
It means that Dad's already back home from his night shift.
And by the merry tone of his voice we at once figure out that he hasn't yet noticed the damage one of us, three brothers born a year apart, did to his dearest hunting trophy yesterday night.
Последний раз редактировалось Aksamitka 07 авг 2021, 23:12, всего редактировалось 2 раза.
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#99

Сообщение acapnotic »

VictorB пишет: 07 авг 2021, 17:45 There're no items of furniture other than those we are sitting in.
Even though you can't see what is behind you? How do you know, then? :)
VictorB пишет: 07 авг 2021, 17:45 But whereas the man is seated in the office armchair, I am sat in a sort of a dentist's armchair.
What makes the first armchair definite?
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#100

Сообщение VictorB »

acapnotic,
Thanks for taking the time to read it:)
Re: the comment, you have me on the ropes again!
The first sentence may be changed to
From my seat, I can't see any items pieces of furniture other than those we are sitting in.
or something like that... Although, mentioning seeing something that you're sitting on/it sounds somewhat odd. What do you think? Could you suggest a better way for this idea to be put in?
As for the article "the", I absolutely agree with you.
Oh, I also spotted the article "a" after the preposition "of" in "a sort of a dentist's armchair" to be deleted.
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