Tu es Bête
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Hi, I'm Lauren. I'm president of the Germans For the Salvation of Eagles Club. In my spare time I cook meals for homeless pigeons and work on a Pig-Latin translation of The Odyssey. Point(s) for RavenclawLinks
In 1983, a team of deeply pious scientists conducted a radical experiment in an undisclosed facility. The scientists had theorized that a human without access to any senses or ways to perceive stimuli would be able to perceive the presence of God. They believed that the five senses clouded our awareness of eternity, and without them, a human could actually establish contact with God by thought. An elderly man who claimed to have “nothing to left to live for” was the only test subject to volunteer. To purge him of all his senses, the scientists performed a complex operation in which every sensory nerve connection to the brain was surgically severed. Although the test subject retained full muscular function, he could not see, hear, taste, smell, or feel. With no possible way to communicate with or even sense the outside world, he was alone with his thoughts.
Scientists monitored him as he spoke aloud about his state of mind in jumbled, slurred sentences that he couldn’t even hear. After four days, the man claimed to be hearing hushed, unintelligible voices in his head. Assuming it was an onset of psychosis, the scientists paid little attention to the man’s concerns.
Two days later, the man cried that he could hear his dead wife speaking with him, and even more, he could communicate back. The scientists were intrigued, but were not convinced until the subject started naming dead relatives of the scientists. He repeated personal information to the scientists that only their dead spouses and parents would have known. At this point, a sizable portion of scientists left the study.
After a week of conversing with the deceased through his thoughts, the subject became distressed, saying the voices were overwhelming. In every waking moment, his consciousness was bombarded by hundreds of voices that refused to leave him alone. He frequently threw himself against the wall, trying to elicit a pain response. He begged the scientists for sedatives, so he could escape the voices by sleeping. This tactic worked for three days, until he started having severe night terrors. The subject repeatedly said that he could see and hear the deceased in his dreams.
Only a day later, the subject began to scream and claw at his nonfunctional eyes, hoping to sense something in the physical world. The hysterical subject now said the voices of the dead were deafening and hostile, speaking of hell and the end of the world. At one point, he yelled “No heaven, no forgiveness” for five hours straight. He continually begged to be killed, but the scientists were convinced that he was close to establishing contact with God.
After another day, the subject could no longer form coherent sentences. Seemingly mad, he started to bite off chunks of flesh from his arm. The scientists rushed into the test chamber and restrained him to a table so he could not kill himself. After a few hours of being tied down, the subject halted his struggling and screaming. He stared blankly at the ceiling as teardrops silently streaked across his face. For two weeks, the subject had to be manually re-hydrated due to the constant crying. Eventually, he turned his head and, despite his blindness, made focused eye contact with a scientist for the first time in the study. He whispered “I have spoken with God, and he has abandoned us” and his vital signs stopped. There was no apparent cause of death.Submitted by rachelgutman.
A Girls Best Friend
When I was about 6 or 7, I lived in a development that was made up of apartments, we just called it “the park”. I lived in one complex, and my friend Cheyenne lived in another. One day, a new girl moved in the building opposite Cheyenne’s. We were both really excited because we were the only girls in the park and never really played with anybody else. When they were unloading the truck we saw a beautiful porcelain doll being handed over to a woman in her 30s. The girl came stomping out of the house, screaming for the doll. We shrugged it off; moving into a new house can get the best of people. The next day, we went over to introduce ourselves. The girl told us her name was Annette and she lived with her mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, two aunts, four sisters and one cousin, who was also a girl. We thought it was a little strange that there was no men in the house but we didn’t say anything because we figured that would be rude. She took us up to her room that only had a bed, a plain brown dresser and a chair holding her doll. Cheyenne went to touch it only to have Annette scream “THAT’S MINE!” Chey stumbled backwards, tumbling into me. We stared at Annette, her nostrils flared, eyes wide. Her grandmother rushed up the stairs, grabbed her and whispered into her ear something that sounded like “Shh, you’ll wake her, we don’t want it to happen again.” Cheyenne & I exchanged nervous glances, and told them we had to go eat.
Later that night, I called her and explained to her that I didn’t think we should play with Annette anymore. Chey agreed quickly and right as we were about to hang up for the night, we heard a blood curdling scream. My family & I rushed outside, to see Annette’s family standing in the driveway, the mother lying under the window, surrounded by blood. Anne stood off to the side, clutching her doll, trembling, her lips moving fast & silently. When the ambulance arrived, my mother insisted we go and try to console them. When I approached Anne, I saw one of her doll’s fingernails were blood red. Over the next few months, Anne’s family started to die off, the same way every time. And every time, one of the doll’s fingernails changed from white to red. Our mothers refused to let Cheyenne & I to go over there anymore, not that we wanted to. When the last person in Anne’s family fell out the window, the tenth person, the doll’s hands were completely red. Chey & I tried to explain this to our parents, but they said it was probably just her way of coping. Four days after the last person had fallen, we heard a cry of “ENOUGH ALREADY!” and a loud, glassy smash. We rushed outside, abandoning our Barbies to see Annette’s doll in a million pieces, under the window. Anne raced out of the house, sobbing “It’s over, it’s over, it’s over…” Upon closer inspection of the wreckage, we found that this doll was not an ordinary child’s companion. Where it should have been a hollow, porcelain shell, there was human organs, still clinging to the last bit of life.
Submitted by Raven.
fuckyeahfilipinocuties
adventuretime
(Source: adventuretime, via ae0lus-deactivated20120822)
