she finds old stories


a long time ago i was in the midst of a serial killer phase. i would read online crime libraries all night long and consistently be baffled, appalled, and intrigued. i couldn’t understand what brought them to do what they’d done. it’s still a mystery how people can be broken down so much, to sometimes something so little, that they lose their sense of self. others have never had a sense of self, and who they are was the criminal they eventually became. their whole lives lead up to that moment when they finally let go. and when they did, they were addicted to being themselves, because they at last felt significant.

others who were spirited dwindled, eaten away with time. and they became who they never thought they could, who they never wanted to.

the following story was written during that phase. it’s about 10 years old, and the writing style of it shows its age. shows my age when i wrote it. there’s no need for me to edit it or adapt it, because i enjoy seeing how my mind used to work.

it was inspired by the werewolf of wysteria, and of course, the supernatural. it’s a long read, and is obviously horror.


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