About: The Darkness of Desire   Sponge Permalink

An Entity of Type : owl:Thing, within Data Space : 134.155.108.49:8890 associated with source dataset(s)

This is a message. I do not know who it is a message to, but know that I am coming for you. Once I find you, no person, God, or other such entity will be able to help you. This all started when my brother was murdered in his own bedroom. I’m the one who discovered his body, and much to my surprise, it didn't look like a murder. When murder springs to mind, people think mutilated corpses and blood everywhere, but this was different. You could almost say that the killing was done tastefully. He was lying on his bed with his eyes closed; the only thing that gave away the fact that he was dead was the small red spot on his shirt and the crimson blade that lay at his side.

AttributesValues
rdfs:label
  • The Darkness of Desire
rdfs:comment
  • This is a message. I do not know who it is a message to, but know that I am coming for you. Once I find you, no person, God, or other such entity will be able to help you. This all started when my brother was murdered in his own bedroom. I’m the one who discovered his body, and much to my surprise, it didn't look like a murder. When murder springs to mind, people think mutilated corpses and blood everywhere, but this was different. You could almost say that the killing was done tastefully. He was lying on his bed with his eyes closed; the only thing that gave away the fact that he was dead was the small red spot on his shirt and the crimson blade that lay at his side.
dcterms:subject
dbkwik:creepy-past...iPageUsesTemplate
dbkwik:creepypasta...iPageUsesTemplate
abstract
  • This is a message. I do not know who it is a message to, but know that I am coming for you. Once I find you, no person, God, or other such entity will be able to help you. This all started when my brother was murdered in his own bedroom. I’m the one who discovered his body, and much to my surprise, it didn't look like a murder. When murder springs to mind, people think mutilated corpses and blood everywhere, but this was different. You could almost say that the killing was done tastefully. He was lying on his bed with his eyes closed; the only thing that gave away the fact that he was dead was the small red spot on his shirt and the crimson blade that lay at his side. Of course, the police investigated. They couldn't find who did it, nor could they find any evidence that could point to the person who did it. The conclusion that they came to was that it must be suicide. But I don't believe that; my brother wasn't like that. This incident practically destroyed my family. My brother, whose name is… was, Mark, was always the favorite child. I didn't care much about it, and life was about as normal as any life could be. But on the day of his death, things changed. My father became extremely aggressive, and my mother was merely a shell of the woman she once was. Also, it seemed that my so-called friends only really hung out with me because of my brother. So now I was alone with a dysfunctional family, all thanks to some bastard who decided to knife my brother. I had to let out my anger in some way, so I started acting out at school, which only made people stay away from me even more. I even started breaking into people's lockers and stealing things. Quite frankly, this was the best decision I ever made in my life, thanks to what I found. One day, I decided to break into a locker whose owner I knew absolutely nothing about. Inside was a book and nothing else. I took the book for the sake of it, deciding to study it at home. Once school had ended, I made my way back home and looked at the book. It was a small book, which was bound in black leather. On the front was carved, “Obsession is just ambition, ambition is a dream and dreams are what you desire.” I laughed at this makeshift title. It sounded like some ten-year-old's attempt to be deep. I put the book away and did other things for a time. A few weeks later I got bored, and while looking for something to do, I found the book. I had nothing better to do, so I opened it and began reading. Looking back, finding the book was possibly the greatest thing to ever happen to me. The book was filled with several stories, which each followed a certain pattern. After reading the first few stories, I was able to work out what that pattern was. The stories were always about a person. This person would always have a good desire, which would benefit everyone, and a deep dark desire, which would often benefit no one. This person would come into contact with an object. It was never clear about what the object was or what it looked like, but it had the ability to grant one of these desires. The story would always give details on how they obtained their desire after coming into contact with the object. You see, their desire was not instantly given to them. What happens is that the object tricks the person into becoming obsessed over it through various means. Apparently, the object could talk or convey information in some other way, so it would often trick people by telling them what they want to hear. Once I had taken a break from reading, I thought about my own desires. My desire for my life and family to be normal again. My darker desire to avenge my brother. However, I knew that the latter was impossible. I mean, how could I find out who the killer is and where they are? Oh, yes, I forgot to mention an important detail: the person doesn't get to choose which desire to fulfill - that’s the object's decision. In most of the beginning stories, the object tricked people into achieving their good desires like happiness or health. Then things started to take a darker turn. In some of the later stories, the object seemed different; it seemed as if giving people what they want for so many years was starting to have an effect on it. It started choosing people’s darker desires more often and started to use insensitive trickery tactics, such as lying and threats. I tend to like darker stories, mainly due to the fact that they rarely ended happily, but this seemed wrong. It was almost as if human desire had corrupted the object. Another thing that I should note is that while I was reading, I had begun to think about both of my desires a lot more. My sadness for what it had done to me and my family grew, as did the rage for what happened to my brother. But I was too stupid to realize what was happening back then. I continued reading, and the human desires detailed in the stories began to get much darker, as did the imagery. Detailed descriptions of murder, rape, disembowelment and people burning alive comprised most of the book now. It was horrible. Behind all of this evil I saw him, the killer, the silhouette of my brother’s murderer. I was enraged. All thoughts of family or friends or anything else were shoved aside, and all I could think about was him. He was the cause of all the world's evils, and in my mind, he laughed as the images conjured up by the book swirled around in my head. I closed the book and thought for a while. "I must kill him" were the only words that went through my mind. My lips however, which were much more sensible, spoke differently. I told myself that I couldn't find this person anyway, and even though I hate the killer, there was nothing I could do. I opened up the book once again to find only four words on the page: “You can find him.” I was shocked by this and thought, "Can I?" I turned the page and found the response. “Yes.” I began to laugh hysterically, and all other thoughts were now gone. Hell, I couldn't even remember my own name. I now only thought about two things: my brother and his murderer. So, now I’m here writing this to my brother’s murderer. I may not know you, but I figured out how to find you. I just simply kill everyone I meet. After all, one of them is bound to be you. I do hope that you are reading this as I want you to be as scared as possible because I am coming for you. Or you can completely disregard this. Either way, I get what I desire.
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