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disabledbutnotsilent · 4 years ago

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send me your ghost storys,legonds,and folk lore!

i am a dissabled adult. looking to create a collection of ghost storys, tall tails, urban legonds,and folklore from around the world.

and i want to hear ones YOU know. i will soon be typing up ones i know. but i want to hear from you!

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disabledbutnotsilent · 5 years ago

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charlie weasleys freinds

I want to know who Charlie weaslys freinds are.I mean.like on a weeks notice they are going to secretly fly onto hogwarts grounds at midnight.collect an illigaly hatched dragon from area eleven year Olds.then smuggle that dragon from Scotland to Romanian by broomstick.I mean.who are these people.Charlie said they are just some friends coming to visist.what’s he going to say?“hey. by the way I need you to break into hogwarts grounds and smuggle a dragon for me on your way here.thanks I owe ya one”. like how did that go down

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disabledbutnotsilent · 5 years ago

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Sweat collected precariously at the end of my nose. I took care to wipe it on my forearm. It would not do to dirty my hands this way in the kitchen. It was hot, but it wasn't the reason I was sweating. My hands trembled as I plated the meal. I took a deep breath to steady myself before placing the carefully arranged platter on the tray. Training my features into impassivity I stepped through the kitchen's double doors into the darkened diner. Coming around the counter, my mind flailed for the details of the ritual that the producers briefed me on. I shook my head at the nonsense of this thing that was happening to me, but I knew better than to ignore their instructions.

"...when you turn the fifth corner-" they had said, cutting me off before I could begin to protest, "-yes we know the diner doesn't have five corners, but it'll be there and so will He."

"He". I could hear the capitalization of the word. Swallowing hard I pressed forward, making a counterclockwise sweep of the dining area. As I rounded the third corner of the restaurant I shook briefly and started sweating again before steeling myself once more. /This is ridiculous I'll turn the corner and there won't be anything there/, I thought to myself, but part of me, way in the back of my brain where fight or flight lives, wasn't convinced. I closed my eyes as I rounded to fourth corner and prepared myself for the climax of this obvious prank. There was a dizzying sensation as I opened my eyes and my stomach dropped as I laid eyes on a small alcove. There it was a fifth corner and just beyond I could see the back edge of a booth, that I absolutely knew with every fiber of my being, that hadn't been there and never had.

...But then, here it was... /Ok, ok... this is real and it is happening, now get ahold of yourself. You cannot show fear/ I took a deep breath once again and let it out slow and silent. Steadying my hands and putting on my most congenial face, I forged my way ahead. No turning back now.

They say the camera adds ten pounds, but I doubted the old idiom at the sight of the person seated before me. He was far larger than I believed him to be from the show. His back was to me and He was motionless save for His slow breathing... no, more of a slow, yet calm, seething. I came around the table flashing what I hoped to be a convincing smile as I reverently set the platter before him. I took the seat facing him and placed my hands, plams down, on the table in front of me taking care that my fingers were well away from the plate.

"What do you have for me today?" He spoke with a friendly exuberance that in no way matched his face.

"Well.." I began weakly with a raspy squeak and then cleared my throat, "well, here we have spicy lamb coconut curry sliders on a king's Hawaiian roll and my special twice cooked loaded potato wedges. He shifted forward and with a speed I could scarcely believe he had the sandwich, a quarter of it already in his mouth, curry sauce dripping down his fingers and the backs of his hands and into the nooks and crannies of the many rings he wore.

"So, tell me about these fries," he said around a mouth full of food. His voice still friendly but this was unmistakably a command.

A bit taken aback from the scene before me I, shakily, began again. "I-I uhhh, begin with a massive Idaho potato. I bake it and scoop out it's insides and mix it with my loaded potato fixings. I load the skins back up and chill them for an hour then slice them into wedges. Then I bread the potatoes in my savory bread crumb mixture and deep fry them. When they are golden brown I pull them out and add extra cheese to the melt and hit them with just a tiny bit of truffle oil, and it's all served with my signature sriracha fry sauce."

He seemed pleased at my offerings but at the mention of the sauce, His mass quivered with excitement. The producers hadn't steered me wrong, they had told me I'd better have a signature sauce in my back pocket if I wanted a homerun. "...and go big or go home. Big, bold flavors. The spicier the better! If you want subtle, this ain't that kinda show, " they had told me. I'd hoped they were right about that last bit, because there wasn't just sriracha in that sauce, I had managed to get my hands on a Carolina Reaper. The next few moments were crucial.

He was smiling now. A real smile, I think. I didn't see if the smile met his eyes because I'd been warned away from making eye contact. He daintily dipped the end of a massive fry into the sauce and dangled it above his mouth, lowering it in. He closed his mouth around it and began to chew. As he thoughtfully considered the flavor I found myself wondering, once again about the lack of cameras and the darkness. The producers had told me that they would get their footage and that I'd be "amazed what we can do in post" and said nothing more.

I was startled out of my revelry with a loud slap on the table. I held my composure but despite my best efforts I felt a warm trickle running down my leg. Just a small amount, no one would know but me. At least I hoped. If He could smell fear...

The open handed slap on the table gave way to pounding with a fist. "THAT. Sauce. Is. KICKIN'!" He proclaimed, punctuating each word with a pound of the fist. He took the extra large ramekin of sauce and threw it back like a shot, slamming it empty on the table. As he brought his head down, level with mine, I saw his eyes for the first time. He stared at me... no, through me, and His smile widened. It continued to widen revealing one after another brutal tooth until his head split at nearly a ninety degree angle. As his skull tilted back, without looking, he once again seized the sandwich and a fistful of fries, dropping them whole into his now gaping maw. He did not chew nor swallow. His head simply tilted back down onto his jaw, and I watched, helplessly as his eyes glazed over and faded to a opalescent cataract gray. I sat frozen, terrified of what may come next. Of this the producers had said nothing. I was unprepared.

Face blank, He began to intone in many voices, none of which were his own. "Once I was a dream... and in that dream I stood upon a mountain.... and in the valley below there was a town... and in this town were many inhabitants... there were many but not one had a face... I reached up to my own face to find it missing as well... startled by a soft snapping of a twig I found myself face to face with a great stag with a grand set of antlers with countless points. The stag met my gaze and I saw that it's face was my own. It spoke then to me in a terrible voice...((this town is your town, and you are it's mayor))

His eyes began to clear, still speaking in His many voices and he spoke,. now to me, "...and now your face can be added to the residents of my town". Again his face began to split in that terrible wide grin as His true voice issued from deep within him, lips unmoving, "but first it's time YOU got your desserts." His head now rocked back once again at that unnatural angle. With tears standing in my eyes I stood, unbidden, as if in a fugue. Somehow, to my absolute horror, I knew what He wanted. I knew what would come next. Now standing before him I could see into His great, gaping maw. I could see the downward facing barbs that would insure a one way trip as I reached out with my good hand. Even in this trance-like state I couldn't bear to touch the surface of the inside of that mouth. As if some primordial fear held me at bay. Like a crocodile wrangler, sure that if I made contact with His flesh, He would close on me like a deadly trap. That's when I felt it. His tongue rose to meet my outstretched palm, and I felt a powerful suction against my hand like shaking hands with a colossal squid. I felt tendrils rise from the tongue and wrap around my fingers as I was violently pulled in to my shoulder. My trance now broken I pulled desperately, flailing against an impossible strength. I could feel the barbs bite my skin and His teeth scraping the flesh of my shoulder. For some horrible moments I wept and wailed, senseless....

And then... nothing. I was alone in my kitchen. My arm hooked over my sink. Dazed, I stood. Was it a dream? All some panicked anxiety driven hallucination over being on television? But no... my arm was covered in scratches and some foul smelling mucus coating me from shoulder to finger tips. Which as it turned out, to my relief, to be durian puree. And in my hand was clutched an object... I pried my adrenaline clenched fingers open to reveal a single chrome ring with a skull wreathed in chrome flames. The ring only big enough to fit on one finger, and as I slid it on to my pinky I heard a whisper in my ear in His voice, "Welcome to Flavortown"

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disabledbutnotsilent · 6 years ago

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