#trapny writing

[trapny]

Mobile game ads paint a bizarre world where a mysterious fae, or maybe some trickster god of the hearth, will create puzzles inside the chimneys of those in need, with lava and unmarked gold coins as a prize for the needy if the puzzle is solved correctly. And the burden of solving the puzzle is placed upon some outside observer, on an entire other plane of existence.

The trickster afflicts the observer with frustrating visions that leave the people cold, hungry and poor, before enticing them to give it a try themselves.

"It's so easy! You can do better. You can help them." The trickster whispers in your ear. A soft voice with breath that softly, almost unnoticeably brushes against your skin, yet sends shivers down your spine.

You watch as the molten rock and gold solidifies inside their chimney. Even if they had the coal to burn, the smoke would fill their house and drive them out into the freezing winter, coughing and wretching.

The crying of the mother and child both beckons and mocks you.

"just a few taps. And you can help them." The trickster speaks with a barely disguised smile. It's a tantalizing offer. Everyone wants to make a difference after all.

But now there's an X in the corner of the screen. A way out. An escape from this view of a portal to misery.

Your finger hovers over the X.

"Are you sure?" The trickster whispers. It knows of the conflict in your mind, and it wishes to stir the pot.

"Have you no heart? Have you no desire to help?" The trickster's voice brushes softly against your ear.

You hit the X. A white screen appears. Words flash before your eyes. "Play now!"

"Play now".

"Play".

For the trickster this is nothing but a game. You know this already. It's a game for you too.

Does the mother know that? Does the child?

The five seconds are over.

Your finger once again hovers over an X.

"A pity." The trickster hums in your ear, their frown making it's way into their sing-song tone. "You would truly leave them cold, naked, and alone. Desperate for a justice you, and only you, could provide. But I guess there's always next time."

You cannot see the trickster.

You never could.

But you know they are smiling.

As you press the X, severing your connection, your chance to make a difference, the trickster whispers one more thing in your ear.

"see you again soon."

And as your screen blinks away, you know the trickster is still smiling.

He is the only one.

[trapny]

Item #: SCP-7548

Object class: Safe

Special containment procedures: only one SCP-7548 instance should be kept in a facility, except for special cases. Under typical circumstance, they are to be rotated between foundation sites at regular intervals.

The instances are to be referred to as SCP-7548-a, SCP-7548-b, and so on. Instances are labelled.

SCP-7548 instances should either be kept in an item storage locker in facility sector 12, or in an arts and crafts room if the site has one. Personnel of clearance Level 2 or higher are permitted to use SCP-7548 unsupervised.

Personnel with security clearance of Level 0 and Level 1 may be granted supervised access to an SCP-7548 instance at any time. Well behaved D-Class may also be permitted to use it outside of testing, if they ask.

Senior researchers and senior security staff can request to keep SCP-7548-1 items as office decor. Any SCP-7548-1 items not being researched or used as decor are to be kept in any available storage space until pickup day, which is on the twelfth every month.

On pickup day, the SCP-7548-1 items in storage are to be put into padded boxes and carefully loaded onto the foundations disguised "mover" trucks.

The specific type of boxes used should be the foundation's #71, #98, and #433 type padded boxes, as these are 30.48 by 30.48, 91.44 by 91.44, and 60.96 by 60.96 centimeters respectively. If any SCP-7548-1 items are unable to be stored in a padded box of any of those sizes, then the item can simply be held by a non-driving worker for the duration of the trip. Each non-driving worker is to hold only one SCP-7548-1 item at most.

In the instance of too many large SCP-7548-1 items and not enough workers for all of them, the items can simply be left in site storage where they are until the 12th of the next month.

The number of trucks should be as few as possible, but in the instance that there are enough SCP-7548-1 items to fill more than 12 trucks, then 12 more trucks should be requested, and the items divided between all 24. In the instance that there are too many to fit in 24 trucks, then the process should be repeated.

The SCP-7548-1 items are to be transported to the SCP foundation front known as "Steve's Clay Pottery", which is a pottery store in North Carolina. The SCP-7548-1 items are to be transported into the basement, removed from their boxes, and carefully placed on the available shelves.

In the instance of an SCP-7548-1 item breaking, you are to get out of proximity as quickly as possible and wait an hour before returning. Upon returning, the remains of the item are to be quickly bagged and sent to Steve's Clay Pottery. Upon arrival, they are to be taken to the basement and tossed into the bin with anomalous properties* tossed into the bin labelled as "oopsies".

The foundation knows the locations of all 11 wheels, and keeps tabs on them as well as possible. Currently, there are 7 wheels kept by the foundation, 4 wheels kept by different groups of interest, and one wheel that has been "decommissioned" by the GOC.**** Several researchers have stated that there is more than likely a twelfth wheel somewhere, but this wheel is yet to be found.

SCP-7548 instances have shown a "fondness" for the number 12. It is advised that if a situation or event not covered by the special containment ever occurs, then the number 12 should be a constant in the surroundings of the objects.

Information about the origins of this precaution can be found in the addendum for test-0127.

Description: SCP-7548 refers to a series of white pottery wheels. There are a total of 11 known wheels, each has a diameter measuring 30.48 centimeters. The wheels each have a line cord measuring 3.658 meters, with a three-pronged plug at the end. The SCP-7548 instances are operated by pedal. By design, all instances of SCP-7548 appear to be completely identical, in both appearance and operation.

The wheels operate best when plugged in, but when unplugged they are still capable of twelve additional hours of continual spin. It is currently unknown where this power is stored, as the wheels contain no trace of a visible battery.** This is considered an anomalous property of the wheels.

The ability to hold a charge makes them somewhat useful during breaches or GOI attacks where the power may be cut off, as both the act of creating and the act of watching somebody create pottery has a calming effect.*** This reduces the likelihood of mental breakdowns and panic attacks in SCP staff in the proximity of SCP-7548 instances during stressful situations.

The main anomalous property of SCP-7548 instances is found in SCP-7548-1.

***the calming effect of creating pottery with SCP-7548 instances was originally regarded as an anomalous effect of the wheels. This however has since been proven by multiple psychologists to be an effect consistent with creating regular pottery using non-anomalous wheels. Dr. ████████, who was the head researcher at the time was quoted saying "in hindsight that was probably kind of obvious."

SCP-7548-1 refers to the pottery created using an SCP-7548 instance. SCP-7548-1 instances display minor space-bending properties. When measuring length, width, height, diameter, circumference, weight, and volume, the instance will show different measurements depending on where they are measured, measurements that should be completely impossible.

Addendum: [access currently only permitted to employees with clearance level [REDACTED] or above]

*section crossed out due to confusion. There are multiple bins in the basement of Steves Clay Pottery, but only one actually has anomalous properties. This resulted in multiple catastrophes due to non-anomalous bins being used by accident. Steve has since marked the correct bin with the word "oopsies".

**the current accepted theory is that the capability of holding a charge is an anomalous property. Considering the findings of test-0029, it is very unlikely that there is some battery that researchers have yet to find.

****the "decommissioned" wheel is actually a wheel currently owned by the foundation. The Global Occult Coalition has been led to believe that SCP-7548 consisted only of one instance, and were subsequently led to believe that they had successfully destroyed it. With information from test-0029, the wheel was successfully repaired. It is now one of the seven held by the foundation.

[trapny]

this is chapter 1 of Horrorfell, which is the story im currently writing.

if you have notable triggers, or just don't really like certain things, then feel free to read the content warning. however, if you are planning on reading this and would like to be surprised, then you can just skip over it.

[CONTENT WARNING: blood, character death, corpses, heavy injury, spooky scariness, etm.]

story under the cut.

Chapter 1: Ruins

Pain.

That was the first thing she felt when she regained consciousness.

Her entire body hurt.

Like she had fallen a thousand feet.

She was in so much pain. It was hard to think.

She laid there for a while, her eyes closed. She must’ve laid there for more than an hour, before trying to do anything. 

Deciding to get her mind away from the pain, she tried to concentrate on who she was and what she felt.

She remembered she had long brown hair.

She was wearing socks, but not shoes. 

How old was she again?

13. Probably.  

Her wrists and ankles felt cold and sore. 

She remembered that she was wearing a dress.

Her eyes were gray, right? Yeah.

The floor beneath her was bumpy and hard.

She lay for a few minutes, trying to convince herself to open her eyes.

When she finally managed to force them open, she was greeted by faint light from above. The ceiling didn’t look familiar. Where was she?

Then she remembered.

The ritual.

The deliverance.

The sacrifice.

Is this what’s at the bottom of that dark pit?

She could see the giant sinkhole right above her. The sun faintly shone down on her like a spotlight with low batteries.

She needed to move, if only to escape the memory of her brother.

Slowly she moved her arms and pushed against the hard, uneven floor. She struggled into a sitting position despite the pain she was in. Blood pounded in her head. Her vision swam. 

She shut her eyes tight and steadied herself. 

She opened her eyes and looked down at her hands. There were shackles on her wrists. They must be on her ankles too. That’s probably the cold sensation she was feeling. She steadied herself, and looked around. It took her a moment to process what she was seeing, before the horror set in.

She was sitting on top of a massive pile of bones.

The reality of her surroundings hit her like a baseball bat. She scrambled to her feet, which turned out to be a bad idea. 

Immediately, pain shot up her leg, sending her writhing to the floor. She fell tumbling down the pile of bones, various sharp ribs and teeth piercing at her skin. She hit a wall, which sent harsh throbbing pain through her head.

To her right, there was a corridor. A way out? She began crawling over the pile of bones, desperately trying to reach the exit to this terrifying room.

Her leg screamed in protest and her head was pounding, but she didn't stop until she made it all the way to that corridor. Her hands grasped at dirt and rocks as she pulled herself across the ground.

She hardly registered the red gateway that she crawled through at the end of that hallway. She just wanted out of there.

The next room had a floor that seemed to have, at some point, been cobblestone. The ground was, by now, thick with weeds. 

The girl stopped when she made it through the doorway, resting on the soft green plants.

“H-hey. Are you alright?" A voice echoed through the room. With some effort, the girl looked up and saw a flower across the room staring at her.

A yellow flower. Staring at her. With eyes. And speaking. With a mouth.

She would have screamed if she hadn't been so tired. Instead, she just stared in shock.

“Hello?” The flower spoke in a concerned voice.

“H…hi…” the girl managed a weak greeting, still confused and disoriented.

The flower dove into the ground and reappeared right in front of her. It startled her a little.

“Uh… my name's Flowey. Flowey the flower." The flower said. The girl would've probably questioned the creativity of such a name if she wasn't in so much pain. 

“What's your name?” The flower asked her.

“Ale-” She almost answered 'Alex' on instinct before she stopped herself.

She thought for a moment.

“A-Aliza.” She told the flower.

"It's nice to meet you Aliza!" The flower said with a smile. 

Hearing the name made her feel kind of happy inside.

Flowey looked at her, and a surprised expression washed over his face. “Wait your soul…”

Suddenly, Flowey's expression turned to fear. He looked towards the other end of the room. 

"Someone's coming." He said ominously.

Aliza tried to speak but nothing came out.

"Listen to me." Flowey whipped his head back around to look at her. "This place is dangerous. Very dangerous. Don't trust anyone you meet. Especially not her."

Aliza didn't know who "her" was, but the flower didn’t seem to know this.

"Stay safe." he said to her. Before Aliza could say anything to him, Flowey dove into the ground. This time he didn't come back out. 

Aliza was terrified. The telltale vibrations in the ground heralded someone -or something, walking towards the room.

As much as she wanted to run, Aliza couldn't even stand. She strained to keep her head up, watching the doorway across the room with sinking terror.

Emerging from the shadows of the door, a giant furry goat stepped into the room. Aliza stared up at it, unable to move.

It wore a dark red robe with a strange symbol on the front. Its eyes bore into her, their blood red color a heavy contrast with the matted white fur. It had several scars on its face, with a few others noticeable on its hands and legs. Legs which it only walked on two of.

It was a towering creature, with a strange expression on its face. 

The creature slowly walked towards Aliza and crouched in front of her.

"Hello there," It said in a calming voice. "My name is Toriel."

Aliza was frozen with fear as the monster smiled down at her. 

"Are you hurt?" The creature reached down and picked Aliza up. 

She was lifted into the air by the goat, who was definitely more than twice her height.

Toriel cradled the girl in her (at least, Aliza was pretty sure Toriel was a her) arms, as though Aliza were a baby, or a cat.

"I'll take you to my home, and we'll heal you up. Okay?" Toriel spoke in a soft, soothing tone. 

Aliza should've been scared out of her mind, but something about Toriel just made her feel so safe. Was this the 'her' that Flowey was talking about? It couldn't be. Right?

As Toriel carried Aliza out through the doorway, Aliza could feel herself dozing off in Toriel's arms. 

Barely fighting it, she just fell asleep and let Toriel take her wherever they were going.

When Aliza opened her eyes again, she was in a cozy chair with her leg wrapped in bandages and propped up on a footrest. She was sitting near a warm fire. 

She looked around, taking in the sights of the dusty living room.

"I think she's awake!" She heard a boy's voice say.

The room vibrated a little bit as Toriel walked out of the kitchen.

"I think you're right." Toriel stopped in front of the chair and smiled warmly at Aliza. "How are you feeling?"

"U-uh… I…" Aliza stared up at Toriel, trying to think of something to say.

"I guess you're feeling alright then." Toriel said with a giggle.

A young boy suddenly appeared next to Toriel. He looked to be about Aliza's age. This must be the boy whose voice she heard.

"Hi! My name's Erin! What's your name?" He spoke with a southern accent, and his skin was very tanned.

"A- uh… A-Aliza." She stammered, a bit startled by the sudden question.

“Where did you come from? Do you have a favorite food?” Erin continued asking questions.

"Don't overload her with too many questions, dear. You might scare her off." The goat lady teased the boy.

"Alright…" the boy grinned and leaned in closer. He smelled like oranges. "It's nice to meet you!"

Toriel laughed a bit as the boy stepped away and wandered off to somewhere else in the house. 

"I just finished making some pie. Do you want me to bring you some?" Toriel asked Aliza.

Aliza nodded, and Toriel walked into the kitchen again. She came back with a slice of pie and a fork.

"It's cinnamon and butterscotch." Toriel said as she handed the plate to Aliza. "I hope you like it."

 Aliza took the plate, and hesitantly scooped some pie onto the fork. She slowly lifted it to her mouth.

It was good. Really good. Aliza had eaten the rest before she knew it.. She hadn’t realized that she was starving.

Aliza looked towards Toriel, who giggled a bit. 

“I guess you were hungry.” She laughed good naturedly, a sparkle in her tired eyes.

After the pie, Aliza’s leg felt better. A lot better. She spent the next few hours with Toriel, listening as she told jokes. It was comforting. Aliza hadn’t felt this safe in a long time.

After a while, Aliza began to feel tired. Toriel helped her limp past a stairway to the bedroom, and she laid down on the bed. Toriel pulled the covers over Aliza, and turned out the lights as she left the room. Aliza stared at the ceiling for a couple of minutes, trying to process everything that had happened. Erin came into the bedroom and lied on the bed on the other side of the room.

“Goodnight Aliza. Goodnight Erin.” Toriel leaned her head into the room.

“Goodnight mom.” Erin said back. Toriel smiled, and closed the door.

Aliza slowly dozed off.

Into 

a deep,

deep,

dreamless 

sleep.

When she woke up again, she had no idea how much time had passed. She sat up in bed and looked around the dim room. Erin was no longer in his bed, the covers hung off the side. Aliza guessed it was probably morning. Or whatever the equivalent was here.

She pushed herself off of the bed and hobbled to the door. Her leg still hurt, but it was a lot better. She opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.

Aliza hadn’t noticed before, but the hallway outside the room was very dusty. Toriel must not clean very often.

Aliza limped out into the room with a staircase. The one she had gone past on the way to the bedroom. She hadn’t asked Toriel what was down those stairs. Aliza’s ears picked up faint echoing voices somewhere at the bottom.

Considering that nobody except the three of them were in the house, Aliza’s curiosity got the better of her. She hung onto the railing and carefully crept down the stairs.

The stairs definitely creaked, but it was barely audible considering how little Aliza weighed. As she got closer to the bottom, the voices got clearer and clearer. By the time she was at the bottom, the voices echoing down the cracked red hallway were recognizable. It was Erin and Toriel, but Aliza couldn’t quite make out everything they were saying. She tiptoed slowly down the dark hallway, leaning on the wall for support as she headed for the light that seemed to be shining at the end.

“My child. You can’t.” Toriel said in a firm voice. She was standing at the end of the hallway, blocking Erin from going any further. The light Aliza had seen seemed to be coming from her.

“Miss Toriel. Please.” Erin begged her. “I… I wish I could stay here. But I can’t. They need me at the farm.”

“It is too dangerous out there. You will never make it to the surface.” Toriel stayed firm.

“Y-you could come with me though!” Erin pleaded. “You could keep me safe! Please…” 

“I’m sorry, my child. I am not welcome past these doors.” Toriel spoke sadly. “There is nothing awaiting you but death.”

Erin stood silently for a second, considering her words.

“Okay…” Erin sighed. “Okay. I’ll stay here. I’ll keep living with you.”

“Thank you, my child, but I’m sorry.” Toriel smiled. “I cannot take any chances. This is the only option.”

Erin started to say something, but his body was thrown backwards towards Aliza, light emanating from him.

He landed in front of her with a sickening thud. She stared down at him. His eyes were wide open with surprise. They weren’t blinking. The light Aliza had seen was coming from a gaping hole in his chest. Blood poured out of his body, puddling on the floor. 

The smoking hole in his chest was wide. Directly in the middle, with only about an inch from either side. 

He was dead. 

Killed.

Aliza’s stomach turned. Her vision swam and she stumbled. She braced herself on the wall and vomited. The taste of butterscotch and cinnamon stung her throat.

“Aliza.” Toriel had suddenly appeared about ten feet in front of her. Aliza was paralyzed with fear. Toriel’s calm, gentle voice had undertones of disappointment, as if she had witnessed Aliza taking a cookie without permission. “You should be in bed. I’m very sorry about this.”

Aliza stared up at Toriel as she began to glow brighter. Fire seemed to glisten from her fur. 

“I wish I could’ve learned more about you, Aliza.” Toriel still spoke like she had just read Aliza’s report card, and had been expecting better. “Goodbye, my child.”

A sharp pain shot through Aliza’s chest.

But it didn’t burn.

Aliza stared into Toriel’s eyes as they widened, betraying surprise. She watched as the goat monster’s expression melted into rage.

“Sorry if this hurts…” A familiar voice behind her spoke. “But it’s now or never.”

Aliza’s eyes moved down to stare at her chest. A green tendril, covered with spikes and dripping with blood, had pierced through her sternum. It gripped a gray heart-shaped object at the end of its length. Strangely, Aliza could feel the grip of the vine-like tentacle on the heart. 

She vomited a second time. This time it tasted like copper. 

“You.” Toriel’s voice dripped with absolute fury. The air around her grew to blistering heat.

Aliza felt several syringe-like piercings, as the tendril stabbed into the heart. Red seemed to flow in from the spikes, mixing with the gray. Her vision swam. She kept her eyes open, despite the pain.

Toriel said something else, but Aliza couldn’t really hear her. The hallway grew brighter and brighter as the spikes pulled out of the heart. The tendril gripped tightly around the heart. Aliza felt her skin burning, as the tendril squeezed tighter and tighter.

The crushing force of the vine was immense. Aliza felt it crack, and then watched as the heart shattered like glass, into a million red and gray pieces.

As deadly heat blazed around her, everything went black.

[trapny]

Horrorfell

By Trapny

Prologue

Clamoring voices echoed off the walls of the cave. A man in a red robe was stood on top of a rock in front of the crowd. He held his hands up.

“Silence!” The man commanded. 

The sound of his deep voice reverberated through the mouth of the cave. His skin sagged with wrinkles. His booming voice contrasted with his frail, fragile looking body. 

He was referred to as The Elder, or The Speaker, or The Chosen. But most called him The Priest.

“We are here to provide a sacrifice for the gods.” The Priest spoke to the crowd of people, who all wore white robes, in contrast to the red of his own. Behind him was a girl in a worn gray dress. Her ankles and wrists were chained, and she was suspended by a rope over a deep sinkhole at the center of the cave. The rope attached to a hook next to the pit, which connected to a pulley on the ceiling, right above her. 

She looked terrified.

“This young man has tried to reject the wishes of the gods.” The red robed man announced. He spoke with the cadence and power of a church preacher, but his words were far from holy.

“Alex was once a beloved member of the community,” The Priest declared. “But he has strayed from the path that the gods made for him.”

Hearing the name “Alex” would have normally made the girl’s skin crawl, but she wasn’t really listening. She was staring into the deep hole below. She was already imagining her plummet. It filled her with fear.

“Alex will be sacrificed, and if the gods so wish, he shall be returned to us. He will be made anew!” The cave walls shook with cheers from the crowd.

As the crowd’s cheers slowly quieted, the robed man turned to the girl suspended above the pit. When the crowd was silent, the girl spoke.

“Please…” Her voice cracked as tears fell from her face into the pit. “Let me go.”

The priest didn’t answer. His eyes had a look in them that told her nothing.

The priest turned away from the girl and looked back to the crowd. “Come forth.” The priest commanded to one person. A dark figure melted out of the sea of white cloth. He wore a black hooded robe. They called him The Deliverance. 

The crowd began cheering again.

The man in the black hood was always a part of these ceremonies. Although the person underneath the robe changed regularly, The Deliverance never changed. It didn’t matter who was wearing the black cloth, because they were a vessel for the robes and knife.

When the gods chose a vessel for The Deliverance, he was to take up the robe and be named death. A pool of men chosen by the priest could take the name of death and become The Deliverance. If the vessel is ever deemed unworthy they would be executed themselves. Immediately. 

The man currently under the robe used to be her brother.

He stalked towards the rope. He walked slow, but there was no uncertainty in his steps. It did not matter that they were siblings. It did not matter how close they were and how much they meant to each other. 

He had been chosen for the knife and robes, and he had taken the name of death. He was The Deliverance. Nothing mattered but the will of the gods. If his sibling had defied the will of the gods, then they were worth less than nothing. Their fate lies in the pit.

He patiently and methodically stepped towards the hook. Like a predator stalking wounded prey. He didn’t need to move fast. His slow movement contrasted with the cheers echoing in the cave. As he walked, he reached into the sleeve of his robe and pulled out a knife.

He walked around the back of the hook and stopped, knife in hand, facing the crowd.

The priest began chanting in another language. “Ichmorath Vostrumus. Mechirda Osminos. Palamos Veridos. Tricarta Geratimos.” 

The crowd chanted along with him. The girl had heard this chant thousands of times before. She had spoken it. But nobody had ever told her what it meant. She wasn’t sure it was real words. Regardless, she was terrified, because she knew what happened when the chant ended.

“Unteriaum Mychordia, Tykserdia Ichnerisis!” The last syllables rung through the cave and vibrated through her head. She was shaking with fear.

“For the gods!” The priest’s voice was powerful and sinister, whipping the crowd into a frenzy. Their cheers and screams echoed through the cave. It was deafening.

The priest quieted the crowd down, waving his hands to silence them.

He let silence permeate, the last echoes of cheering disappearing from the cavern. The only motion was from The Deliverance as he raised the knife above the rope. And when he stopped, even that fleeting movement dissipated into the silence.

The air was still. 

Silent.

Cold.

“Sever.” The priest’s voice was low and commanding. Echoing in the silence.

The Deliverance swung the knife down, cutting straight through the rope.

The girl fell into the dark abyss. The crowd’s yelling and cheering echoed down the pit and grew further and further away as she fell. 

Into the deep darkness, never to return.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[trapny]

I've been watching a lot of horror letsplays lately, and two that I just watched back to back gave me an idea.

They were a game where you try to escape a serial killer who has been stalking you and has you locked in his house, and a game where you have to survive a storm of mushroom spores in the air that will infect you and overtake you.

So like, what if I write a story with both extreme environment and extreme circumstances?

Like, the character has to manage both.

Not only are they being hunted down, but also there's like demon plants or smth outside. Idk. I'd have to flesh it out more but the idea made me excited.

[trapny]

hiiiiii friend trapny. what hobbies have you been engaging in recently?

I collect hats, pet cats, and write stories in free verse

[trapny]

im working on writing an undertale au and im calling it horrorfell

anyways i wrote this for it