Dorkpool: You know, last time I kind of crapped on the whole PoTM thing due to a story called "The Plush Cat." Yeah, that story was only nominated due to the power of the writer making multiple accounts and upvoting himself. So sorry about any insults I might have made towards the whole PoTM thing.
Mirror: A guy did that?
Dorkpool: Yep. A fellow called "TheDarkMaster99." He was banned from the Wiki for a month. He also once said that "Dead Bionicles" sucks. I agree, but at least that writer knew his story sucks balls, and didn’t upvote his less-than-adequate story using multiple accounts. Can’t say the same for TheDarkMaster99.
Mirror: You’re really annoyed by this, aren’t you?
Dorkpool: Yes, yes I am. So instead of crapping all over TheDarkMaster99 (which I kind of want to do), let’s instead make jokes about a story from the Jeff the Killer Wiki: "Ellie – The Survivor."
Mirror: Alright, let’s. It’s right up our alley, and-
Dorkpool: "The Plush Cat" totally belongs there. Wait, no, it belongs on the Creepypasta Land Wiki. And the author deserves to have hot coals shoved –
Mirror: OK, let’s just make Star Trek jokes and Riff this bitch.
Dorkpool: Hey, that’s my line.
Mirror: I needed to stop you from saying things you might regret.
Dorkpool: Whatever. Let’s just Riff this bitch.
START RIFF
June 15, 2009~~ Today, the day of my birth.
Dorkpool: Because saying birthday is too mainstream.
Also a day filled with horror and hidden memories. But I am getting ahead of myself. I know this is only a journal but I might as well introduce myself. I'm Ellie. Just a normal teenage girl... Mostly. If you consider having a carved face normal, then yes. I am normal.
Mirror: So you’re normal for a Jeff wannabe.
Just two years ago today, on my 13th birthday (what a lucky number, isn't it?), I was almost killed in my sleep. "I'm a teenager now, everything will be different." I know many kids going into their teens think but, but my life is sure as hell different. That night, I was woken up my a loud thump on my bed. I looked up and there was a white-hooded... Thing... Sitting there staring at me.
Dorkpool: (singing): I always feel like, somebody’s watching me!
I do not remember screaming, but I do remember one thing.
Mirror: (Narrator): Bananas are a great source of potassium.
What it did to me. It carved a smile from the edge of my mouth to my lower cheek bone of both sides, and he scoped out my eye with his knife. My father must have over heard the commotion and ran on with a handgun, and shot it in the shoulder. Surprisingly, it ran.
Dorkpool: (Narrator): It’s so weird. I expected him to grow wings and fly away.
I thought it would fight back, but I guess not. I was rushed to the hospital, which to my own 'luck' was a long ride away. My face never healed, and my missing eye is still a bloody mess.
Mirror: At least there’s no clock in it.
Stitches hold my mouth together, and a white gauze pad covers my eye. I guess I have to go now, my parents like having a little get together for me. Beats me why, since they know this day is Hell on Earth for me. -----
June 16, 2009~~ In school today, my only friend Kirk
Dorkpool: (Narrator): And his friends, Spock and McCoy.
(who was nicknamed Mortis for his obsession with death) told me something very interesting. He told me about this story he read online called Jeff the Killer. I have heard of it before, although I never read it even though I ironically like horror. I thought Jeff was all hype and just regular internet bullshit full of fangirls calling him "Jeffy-kun" or some other crap like that.
Mirror: That’s because he is.
I guess I should read it, see what all the love is about for him, considering even Mortis liked it even though he despises and fears horror and stuff like Jeff with a passion. Where are my manners, I haven't even talked about Mortis yet. In short, he is possibly the best person ever. Everyone but him avoids me, insult me, or even gags at my sight. Not him though... He has never said a single mean thing to me, or looked at me with disgust.
Dorkpool: He’s a Kirk. He’s trying to get into your pants.
It's no act, I can tell when someone lies. God why am I blushing as I write this?! I don't think I like him... Whatever, maybe it's just happiness that someone accepts me. Goodbye once more journal, we'll see of this Jeff the Killer is any good by the night.
June 16, 2009; later that night~~ What. The. Fuck.
Mirror: A typical reaction to reading "Jeff the Killer."
His face, it is so familiar. I've seen Jeff before, not on the internet, but in person. I survived Jeff. How in the name of Hell is he even real?
Dorkpool: Well, it involves something called the Project…
His never blinking eyes, the large sadistic grin, white leathery skin, black hair, and white hoodie. I've seen it all. Face to face with that murderer. How did I even survive? Did he not think I was worth it? No... No. He can only think of killing, then what caused him to run? Couldn't of been the gun, that only would have made him snap even further and kill me and my father.
Mirror: And what a terrible loss that would be.
Now I won't even try sleeping knowing he is still out there, possibly plotting my own death as I write this. If I call the police, that would only make my death sooner.
Dorkpool: Once again, a Creepypasta story misrepresents the police. When will the madness end?
Damnit, why did I listen to Mortis and read it!
Although... Maybe I shouldn't be afraid. I survived. Maybe I can train, learn to fight, or take a life on my own... Yes. Yes. That should assure my safety.
June 18, 2009~~ I did it. I killed them.
Mirror: (Narrator): I killed Adam Sandler’s fanbase. Truly, I have done the world a good.
Not Jeff but... It felt... Good. I murdered three well known school bitches in the bathroom today. The first, I stabbed repeatedly in her stomach with a kitchen knife, and tore out her large intestine. Her two friends walked in while I was laughing at her pain. The second they saw, time froze and I could polytheism hunk of one thing.
Dorkpool: Did the writer have a stroke or something?
Kill, and no witnesses. So, I charged at them as fast as I could, and slit the blonde's throat in a single swing and stabbed the other in her heart. I stood in the middle of the bathroom, gazing upon their bodies and the blood they lied in. I felt good. And I still do. Blood only got on my hands and some of my face, which I can easily pass off as my own due to my eye.
Mirror: Because heaven forbid a Creepypasta character not have something odd about their eyes.
I washed the knife off in the sink, and left school with in problems. No one stopping me. Now the school is closed, and... Wait a sec, someone is calling me----
It was Mor- I mean Kirk...
.He didn't ask about what happened today but instead... He asked me out on a date for this Saturday.
Dorkpool: Yep, definitely a Kirk.
There is a mirror in front of me as I write this and I am as red a tomato. Is this... Is this what happiness is? Whatever, he actually asked me out oh my God! This is the best day of my life, first the three murders now this. Not much of a fan of love, I always thought it was bullshit til now. I guess now I'll go before I start gushing my emotions on this.
Mirror: What is this anyway?
Good bye and good night.
June 19, 2009~~ School is out until next Thursday, a whole week away. Mortis texted me again, asking if we could reschedule for tomorrow, which I am perfectly fine with. All we were really going to do was just stay at his place anyways, so not much of a difference.
Dorkpool: Let’s see. There’s a guy named Kirk, a girl, and they’re both staying at a house.
Mirror: Your point?
Dorkpool: Maybe David isn’t Kirk’s only kid.
Whenever I see his texts or hear is voice I become happy. I guess love isn't that bad... But anyways, on the news they said that "we plan on making the investigation as short but also as efficient as possible." I doubt they will find out it is me who did it... Even in my rage I knew better than to leave any evidence.
Mirror: (Narrator): The words "I DID IT" smeared in blood on the walls shouldn’t give me away at all.
My parents have no idea, and both they and Mortis hope I don't get hurt. I doubt anyone else would give a flying fuck if I got hurt any more, pain is a normal thing for me.
June 20, 2009~~ Today was Mortis's and my date. It was fairly normal from what I expected, we talked and talked and talked, watched a movie, and listened to music. We both like grunge, metal, and some Japanese pop. He is much more into metal than I am, liking bands like Slayer and Trivium. Towards the end of our date I felt an urge...
Dorkpool: (Narrator): The urge to dance!
The same that Jeff felt. The urge to kill. I kept eyeing the knives in the kitchen while Kirk wasn't looking. I still feel the urge now, I want there to be a dance of blood. I'll have to murder somewhere not too far from the school, but also away from my house which could be a problem considering I might be one of the suspects, being
the shy loner freak of the school.
Wish me luck.
Both: No.
June 21, 2009~~ The rush of killing is one of the best feelings in the world. He didn't utter a single sound. No squeak or squeal or scream. Y'know, it's not as satisfying if they don't freak out vocally. Oh well, I am sure it will only get better the more I kill I wonder if this will become a daily thing... I wouldn't mind if it did.
Dorkpool: I said the same thing about the Riffs.
Should be fun. No one suspects a thing. I mean come on, who would suspect a sweet, innocent girl to be murderer.
Mirror: The police, since you’re the "shy loner freak of the school."
June 22, 2009~~ Another day, another date, another murder. This time the hunt screamed. I shut him up quick. I was right, it is much better when they scream! Way more satisfying. Mortis is becoming concerned about me, but he needs not worry. I don't know how I could reassure him without making it seem like I am killing them... This is much more complicated that I expected, but much more.
Dorkpool: This sentence had a much dumber ending than I expected, but much dumber.
Exhilarating. I feel like I can take on Jeff and whatever he throws at me now. I am the perfect killer!
June 28, 2009~~ I apologize for my absence diary, but in have been having fun increasing the body count of numerous people.
Mirror: So you increased the body count others had?
Each kill is more fun than the last, increasing my joy one by one. By now I am back in school, so I can't murder any more students here in the school, but outside of the school is a different story. Their screams and squeals before they die is like music to my ears, the symphony of death. Oh, I almost forgot. Kirk is dead.
Dorkpool: Great, you spoiled "Star Trek: Generations."
Mirror: And "Star Trek Into Darkness." Sort of, since he was brought back by mutant tribble blood.
Dorkpool: The less we talk of that, the better.
He was becoming suspicious of me. Me.
Mirror: (Narrator): I mean, seriously? How could he become suspicious of me?
I feel no remorse for his death, for I cannot be found out. For a time he was a good alibi, but he served no more use to me once he became suspicious.
June 28; Later that night~~ I hear him. I can hear him coming. Jeff, he is finally making his move. I found on my window written in blood GO TO SLEEP. I won't sleep until one of us is dead, you bastard. Today is our final meeting, you sick fuck. I will kill you, and you will suffer you son of a bitch. If I don't come back, BURN THIS JOURNAL.
Dorkpool: (Narrator): Yes, journal, BURN YOURSELF.
--------------
Hey, Jeff here!
Mirror: (Jeff): I’m writing in this journal because…um…anyway….
Just so you know, Ellie stood no chance against me. She was mildly entertaining, and seeing her face again reminded me I had an unfinished job to do. I made her death nice and slow, reopening her wounds and creating new ones.
Dorkpool: Proof that Jeff the Killer is kind of a dick.
Although I must congratulate her. Not many people can kill 12 innocents, along with their boyfriend within a week with no remorse. Now to whoever is reading this, Go To Sleep.
Mirror: Nah, I’m not tired.
END RIFF
Dorkpool: This story sucks.
Mirror: Let’s discuss the plot first. The plot is both standard and different from most Jeff-wannabe stories. It basically follows the "Jeff Formula" – character has crappy life/something bad happens to character, character goes insane, becomes psycho killer and/or gets powers – but it’s different in that the main character gets killed, and her motivation for killing is paper thin even by Jeff wannabe standards. She learns about Jeff the Killer, and decides the best thing to do to defend herself is kill others? Of course. Also, she kills her boyfriend because he was getting suspicious. Wouldn’t it make more sense for her to confess what she did to Kirk, hoping he’d understand, and have him be disturbed by this, and say he’s going to call the police? That would be a good reason for her to kill him, and would be a bit more emotional. By the way, there’s not much to say about Ellie as a character. She hates Jeff, goes nuts, and likes certain types of music. Yippee skippy. Kirk fares worse, since he just seems to be Ellie’s "perfect guy." And what the hell is with the journal? I don’t mind her explaining things to it and talk like she’s talking to an audience, since some people do that, but why does she tell the journal to burn itself? And why does Jeff write in it? What was the point of that? And why do they both assume others will read it? There’s also the grammar, which is at times pretty awkward.
Dorkpool: Like with most every story, there are good things. Despite some awkward grammar at times, the spelling and grammar is decent and, if Ellie is writing this chronicle in a book, somewhat excusable. Also, Ellie does have some characterization, which is a lot more than could be said for a lot of Jeff wannabe stories. And the writer didn’t make multiple accounts to try upvoting their story, unlike some other authors I know of… Anyway, that’s what we think. What do you guys think? Was the story good? Was the Riff good? Do you wish we’d be killed by Ellie? Leave your thoughts in the comments below.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Her name is Rae. She is many things – killer, cannibal, cyborg – but right now, she is unconscious.
She had met with someone she has started working with. He was supposed to bring her victims. He brought someone with him, but not who she was expecting.
She was thinking more along the lines of children, or weaker people. Instead, he brought someone who seemed pretty strong and heavily armored. And the person’s face was…
She couldn’t finish the thought before she was punched. It was a rather strong punch, which threw her about five feet backwards. She got back up, and rushed the person. He stepped out of the way, grabbed her by her robotic wrist, and crushed her robotic arm.
This was not a good sign.
Her other arm had rather long nails, and wasn’t in the grasp of this person. She slashed at his armored stomach, hoping to do some damage. Her broken nails informed her that she might have made a mistake.
She looked up at this person, and saw his face. It seemed skull-like, but something was…odd about it. Almost like it was a h-
A punch from the person knocked her unconscious.
"Thanks," the man who was supposed to help Rae said.
The armored person picked up Rae, looked at the man, and nodded. Then he grabbed the man by the throat, and squeezed. It didn’t take long for him to die.
The armored person seemed to blink out of existence, with Rae in tow.
Mirror: A guy did that?
Dorkpool: Yep. A fellow called "TheDarkMaster99." He was banned from the Wiki for a month. He also once said that "Dead Bionicles" sucks. I agree, but at least that writer knew his story sucks balls, and didn’t upvote his less-than-adequate story using multiple accounts. Can’t say the same for TheDarkMaster99.
Mirror: You’re really annoyed by this, aren’t you?
Dorkpool: Yes, yes I am. So instead of crapping all over TheDarkMaster99 (which I kind of want to do), let’s instead make jokes about a story from the Jeff the Killer Wiki: "Ellie – The Survivor."
Mirror: Alright, let’s. It’s right up our alley, and-
Dorkpool: "The Plush Cat" totally belongs there. Wait, no, it belongs on the Creepypasta Land Wiki. And the author deserves to have hot coals shoved –
Mirror: OK, let’s just make Star Trek jokes and Riff this bitch.
Dorkpool: Hey, that’s my line.
Mirror: I needed to stop you from saying things you might regret.
Dorkpool: Whatever. Let’s just Riff this bitch.
START RIFF
June 15, 2009~~ Today, the day of my birth.
Dorkpool: Because saying birthday is too mainstream.
Also a day filled with horror and hidden memories. But I am getting ahead of myself. I know this is only a journal but I might as well introduce myself. I'm Ellie. Just a normal teenage girl... Mostly. If you consider having a carved face normal, then yes. I am normal.
Mirror: So you’re normal for a Jeff wannabe.
Just two years ago today, on my 13th birthday (what a lucky number, isn't it?), I was almost killed in my sleep. "I'm a teenager now, everything will be different." I know many kids going into their teens think but, but my life is sure as hell different. That night, I was woken up my a loud thump on my bed. I looked up and there was a white-hooded... Thing... Sitting there staring at me.
Dorkpool: (singing): I always feel like, somebody’s watching me!
I do not remember screaming, but I do remember one thing.
Mirror: (Narrator): Bananas are a great source of potassium.
What it did to me. It carved a smile from the edge of my mouth to my lower cheek bone of both sides, and he scoped out my eye with his knife. My father must have over heard the commotion and ran on with a handgun, and shot it in the shoulder. Surprisingly, it ran.
Dorkpool: (Narrator): It’s so weird. I expected him to grow wings and fly away.
I thought it would fight back, but I guess not. I was rushed to the hospital, which to my own 'luck' was a long ride away. My face never healed, and my missing eye is still a bloody mess.
Mirror: At least there’s no clock in it.
Stitches hold my mouth together, and a white gauze pad covers my eye. I guess I have to go now, my parents like having a little get together for me. Beats me why, since they know this day is Hell on Earth for me. -----
June 16, 2009~~ In school today, my only friend Kirk
Dorkpool: (Narrator): And his friends, Spock and McCoy.
(who was nicknamed Mortis for his obsession with death) told me something very interesting. He told me about this story he read online called Jeff the Killer. I have heard of it before, although I never read it even though I ironically like horror. I thought Jeff was all hype and just regular internet bullshit full of fangirls calling him "Jeffy-kun" or some other crap like that.
Mirror: That’s because he is.
I guess I should read it, see what all the love is about for him, considering even Mortis liked it even though he despises and fears horror and stuff like Jeff with a passion. Where are my manners, I haven't even talked about Mortis yet. In short, he is possibly the best person ever. Everyone but him avoids me, insult me, or even gags at my sight. Not him though... He has never said a single mean thing to me, or looked at me with disgust.
Dorkpool: He’s a Kirk. He’s trying to get into your pants.
It's no act, I can tell when someone lies. God why am I blushing as I write this?! I don't think I like him... Whatever, maybe it's just happiness that someone accepts me. Goodbye once more journal, we'll see of this Jeff the Killer is any good by the night.
June 16, 2009; later that night~~ What. The. Fuck.
Mirror: A typical reaction to reading "Jeff the Killer."
His face, it is so familiar. I've seen Jeff before, not on the internet, but in person. I survived Jeff. How in the name of Hell is he even real?
Dorkpool: Well, it involves something called the Project…
His never blinking eyes, the large sadistic grin, white leathery skin, black hair, and white hoodie. I've seen it all. Face to face with that murderer. How did I even survive? Did he not think I was worth it? No... No. He can only think of killing, then what caused him to run? Couldn't of been the gun, that only would have made him snap even further and kill me and my father.
Mirror: And what a terrible loss that would be.
Now I won't even try sleeping knowing he is still out there, possibly plotting my own death as I write this. If I call the police, that would only make my death sooner.
Dorkpool: Once again, a Creepypasta story misrepresents the police. When will the madness end?
Damnit, why did I listen to Mortis and read it!
Although... Maybe I shouldn't be afraid. I survived. Maybe I can train, learn to fight, or take a life on my own... Yes. Yes. That should assure my safety.
June 18, 2009~~ I did it. I killed them.
Mirror: (Narrator): I killed Adam Sandler’s fanbase. Truly, I have done the world a good.
Not Jeff but... It felt... Good. I murdered three well known school bitches in the bathroom today. The first, I stabbed repeatedly in her stomach with a kitchen knife, and tore out her large intestine. Her two friends walked in while I was laughing at her pain. The second they saw, time froze and I could polytheism hunk of one thing.
Dorkpool: Did the writer have a stroke or something?
Kill, and no witnesses. So, I charged at them as fast as I could, and slit the blonde's throat in a single swing and stabbed the other in her heart. I stood in the middle of the bathroom, gazing upon their bodies and the blood they lied in. I felt good. And I still do. Blood only got on my hands and some of my face, which I can easily pass off as my own due to my eye.
Mirror: Because heaven forbid a Creepypasta character not have something odd about their eyes.
I washed the knife off in the sink, and left school with in problems. No one stopping me. Now the school is closed, and... Wait a sec, someone is calling me----
It was Mor- I mean Kirk...
.He didn't ask about what happened today but instead... He asked me out on a date for this Saturday.
Dorkpool: Yep, definitely a Kirk.
There is a mirror in front of me as I write this and I am as red a tomato. Is this... Is this what happiness is? Whatever, he actually asked me out oh my God! This is the best day of my life, first the three murders now this. Not much of a fan of love, I always thought it was bullshit til now. I guess now I'll go before I start gushing my emotions on this.
Mirror: What is this anyway?
Good bye and good night.
June 19, 2009~~ School is out until next Thursday, a whole week away. Mortis texted me again, asking if we could reschedule for tomorrow, which I am perfectly fine with. All we were really going to do was just stay at his place anyways, so not much of a difference.
Dorkpool: Let’s see. There’s a guy named Kirk, a girl, and they’re both staying at a house.
Mirror: Your point?
Dorkpool: Maybe David isn’t Kirk’s only kid.
Whenever I see his texts or hear is voice I become happy. I guess love isn't that bad... But anyways, on the news they said that "we plan on making the investigation as short but also as efficient as possible." I doubt they will find out it is me who did it... Even in my rage I knew better than to leave any evidence.
Mirror: (Narrator): The words "I DID IT" smeared in blood on the walls shouldn’t give me away at all.
My parents have no idea, and both they and Mortis hope I don't get hurt. I doubt anyone else would give a flying fuck if I got hurt any more, pain is a normal thing for me.
June 20, 2009~~ Today was Mortis's and my date. It was fairly normal from what I expected, we talked and talked and talked, watched a movie, and listened to music. We both like grunge, metal, and some Japanese pop. He is much more into metal than I am, liking bands like Slayer and Trivium. Towards the end of our date I felt an urge...
Dorkpool: (Narrator): The urge to dance!
The same that Jeff felt. The urge to kill. I kept eyeing the knives in the kitchen while Kirk wasn't looking. I still feel the urge now, I want there to be a dance of blood. I'll have to murder somewhere not too far from the school, but also away from my house which could be a problem considering I might be one of the suspects, being
the shy loner freak of the school.
Wish me luck.
Both: No.
June 21, 2009~~ The rush of killing is one of the best feelings in the world. He didn't utter a single sound. No squeak or squeal or scream. Y'know, it's not as satisfying if they don't freak out vocally. Oh well, I am sure it will only get better the more I kill I wonder if this will become a daily thing... I wouldn't mind if it did.
Dorkpool: I said the same thing about the Riffs.
Should be fun. No one suspects a thing. I mean come on, who would suspect a sweet, innocent girl to be murderer.
Mirror: The police, since you’re the "shy loner freak of the school."
June 22, 2009~~ Another day, another date, another murder. This time the hunt screamed. I shut him up quick. I was right, it is much better when they scream! Way more satisfying. Mortis is becoming concerned about me, but he needs not worry. I don't know how I could reassure him without making it seem like I am killing them... This is much more complicated that I expected, but much more.
Dorkpool: This sentence had a much dumber ending than I expected, but much dumber.
Exhilarating. I feel like I can take on Jeff and whatever he throws at me now. I am the perfect killer!
June 28, 2009~~ I apologize for my absence diary, but in have been having fun increasing the body count of numerous people.
Mirror: So you increased the body count others had?
Each kill is more fun than the last, increasing my joy one by one. By now I am back in school, so I can't murder any more students here in the school, but outside of the school is a different story. Their screams and squeals before they die is like music to my ears, the symphony of death. Oh, I almost forgot. Kirk is dead.
Dorkpool: Great, you spoiled "Star Trek: Generations."
Mirror: And "Star Trek Into Darkness." Sort of, since he was brought back by mutant tribble blood.
Dorkpool: The less we talk of that, the better.
He was becoming suspicious of me. Me.
Mirror: (Narrator): I mean, seriously? How could he become suspicious of me?
I feel no remorse for his death, for I cannot be found out. For a time he was a good alibi, but he served no more use to me once he became suspicious.
June 28; Later that night~~ I hear him. I can hear him coming. Jeff, he is finally making his move. I found on my window written in blood GO TO SLEEP. I won't sleep until one of us is dead, you bastard. Today is our final meeting, you sick fuck. I will kill you, and you will suffer you son of a bitch. If I don't come back, BURN THIS JOURNAL.
Dorkpool: (Narrator): Yes, journal, BURN YOURSELF.
--------------
Hey, Jeff here!
Mirror: (Jeff): I’m writing in this journal because…um…anyway….
Just so you know, Ellie stood no chance against me. She was mildly entertaining, and seeing her face again reminded me I had an unfinished job to do. I made her death nice and slow, reopening her wounds and creating new ones.
Dorkpool: Proof that Jeff the Killer is kind of a dick.
Although I must congratulate her. Not many people can kill 12 innocents, along with their boyfriend within a week with no remorse. Now to whoever is reading this, Go To Sleep.
Mirror: Nah, I’m not tired.
END RIFF
Dorkpool: This story sucks.
Mirror: Let’s discuss the plot first. The plot is both standard and different from most Jeff-wannabe stories. It basically follows the "Jeff Formula" – character has crappy life/something bad happens to character, character goes insane, becomes psycho killer and/or gets powers – but it’s different in that the main character gets killed, and her motivation for killing is paper thin even by Jeff wannabe standards. She learns about Jeff the Killer, and decides the best thing to do to defend herself is kill others? Of course. Also, she kills her boyfriend because he was getting suspicious. Wouldn’t it make more sense for her to confess what she did to Kirk, hoping he’d understand, and have him be disturbed by this, and say he’s going to call the police? That would be a good reason for her to kill him, and would be a bit more emotional. By the way, there’s not much to say about Ellie as a character. She hates Jeff, goes nuts, and likes certain types of music. Yippee skippy. Kirk fares worse, since he just seems to be Ellie’s "perfect guy." And what the hell is with the journal? I don’t mind her explaining things to it and talk like she’s talking to an audience, since some people do that, but why does she tell the journal to burn itself? And why does Jeff write in it? What was the point of that? And why do they both assume others will read it? There’s also the grammar, which is at times pretty awkward.
Dorkpool: Like with most every story, there are good things. Despite some awkward grammar at times, the spelling and grammar is decent and, if Ellie is writing this chronicle in a book, somewhat excusable. Also, Ellie does have some characterization, which is a lot more than could be said for a lot of Jeff wannabe stories. And the writer didn’t make multiple accounts to try upvoting their story, unlike some other authors I know of… Anyway, that’s what we think. What do you guys think? Was the story good? Was the Riff good? Do you wish we’d be killed by Ellie? Leave your thoughts in the comments below.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Her name is Rae. She is many things – killer, cannibal, cyborg – but right now, she is unconscious.
She had met with someone she has started working with. He was supposed to bring her victims. He brought someone with him, but not who she was expecting.
She was thinking more along the lines of children, or weaker people. Instead, he brought someone who seemed pretty strong and heavily armored. And the person’s face was…
She couldn’t finish the thought before she was punched. It was a rather strong punch, which threw her about five feet backwards. She got back up, and rushed the person. He stepped out of the way, grabbed her by her robotic wrist, and crushed her robotic arm.
This was not a good sign.
Her other arm had rather long nails, and wasn’t in the grasp of this person. She slashed at his armored stomach, hoping to do some damage. Her broken nails informed her that she might have made a mistake.
She looked up at this person, and saw his face. It seemed skull-like, but something was…odd about it. Almost like it was a h-
A punch from the person knocked her unconscious.
"Thanks," the man who was supposed to help Rae said.
The armored person picked up Rae, looked at the man, and nodded. Then he grabbed the man by the throat, and squeezed. It didn’t take long for him to die.
The armored person seemed to blink out of existence, with Rae in tow.