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  • Helel ben Shahaar
    Helel ben Shahaar closed this thread because:
    Plagiarism.
    21:34, September 5, 2018
    Ratman
    I was standing in the rain. Nothing but wet droplets for miles around. Hard, wet, blurry rain, but most of all, complete and utter isolation. I stood in one place and turned in a circle, looking everywhere for signs of life. Nothing... nothing at all. Just the tall buildings and street lights.

    Suddenly I see something in the distance, a small black, slightly human shape, and it's moving towards me with fierce speed. As it closes in, I see its head, a horrid, brown rat head, with two, red, evil eyes. It wore a dark hoodie and dirty jeans. It screeched like a rat. I tried to run, but didn't get very far. It reached for my jacket, threw me to the ground, and began to scratch my face with it's claws, and bit down hard on my shoulders. Suddenly... It leaned in close and spoke in a human voice... It whispered in my ear: I'll make this quick... Just give me a minute...

    I awoke with a gasp. After a moment or two, reality sets back in. I am in my bedroom. I am in New York, safe. I looked out my window and saw the cityscape pressed against the night sky. The high-rise buildings with their lights, the noise of the traffic on the street below me, even the muffled conversation of my neighbor talking on his phone... it brought reality back to me in a crash. I was home and safe, that wet, screeching nightmare, just a dream. The image of the brown rat-thing, though, that stuck with me for a while. Eventually sleep found me again.

    Two weeks later I was sitting at a street café with my friend Sam. Sam's father owned a yacht, and since our first day of college together, Sam and I had spoken non-stop about taking that yacht out on the open waters. Sailing from the Gulf of Mexico, down the coast of South America, and then back again.

    "So, is your dad really going to go for it, Sam?"

    "Yep, we graduated on time, with the right GPA. That was his end of the deal. I asked him last night, and after he studied over my transcripts for about an hour, he agreed that we could take the boat out for our cruise."

    This was to be our defining moment. Right after college but before going into the work force. Our last chance to be crazy kids before settling down into a lifetime of pushing papers and being adults.

    We pulled out our map and began to plot our course again for the millionth time. The boat was docked in Biloxi, MS. We would leave there and just sail south. We had enough supplies locked down to make the trip a breeze. We had all the right port cities marked off to stop at and party. This was going to be an amazing journey.

    We both stocked up on personal items. I brought my portable gaming devices and plenty of batteries. Of course we both had our cameras. Sam was more of a reader, and he stocked up on large novels and other books. Most were just the standard Stephen King type books; however, he goes to the New York Public Library and buys whatever he can get his hands on. Until he got a strange book I never knew about.

    I only saw the book once before we set sail. It was a paperback, nothing fancy; however, it had no title, no author, nothing on the spine. I asked him what it was for, and he responded that it was, For the journey.

    He wouldn't go any further about it, and honestly I really didn't care. The only thing on my mind at that time was setting sail.

    Three days later we were sitting at a Starbucks in 80 Delancey Street, waiting on the call from the marina. Sam's dad had hired a professional crew to ensure that every inch of the boat was in top notch condition. Sam was being strangely quiet for once. He was writing numbers on his napkin. I asked him what was up, and he just shrugged, told me he was thinking, and promptly tossed the napkin in the trash.

    Shortly afterwards, we received a call from the dock crew, telling us that our yacht was all set. We had left our cars in a pay-lot for safe keeping, and would pick them up in about five weeks, when the round trip was complete.

    Upon arrival at the marina, we loaded up our personal belongings, conducted a quick safety brief with the dock crew, checked our essentials one last time, and finally, after four years of waiting and talking, we set sail.

    To tell a little about this yacht, it was pretty much a floating house. Needless to say, Sam's dad was rich. We both had private bedrooms on this boat; it had a fully functional kitchen, a 62" television with a mounted satellite for all the channels, all the gaming consoles on the market, tons of food, and a respectable amount of emergency supplies. We had dried rations similar to military MRE's and enough bottled water to drown a whale.

    As we already got back to our home in New York, me and Sam decided to take a midnight stroll around St Mary's Park like we always do. As we sat on the bench, we could see something moving in the opposite direction. It looked somewhat human. As we moved closer towards it, they noticed what looked like something from a Sci-Fi film. The figure wore a dark hoodie, and really dirty jeans. He was completely wrapped in shadow. We came closer towards it, and we could see that he moved in weird motions; crawling on all fours. We thought it was some drunk guy who got thrown out of some nearby bar, Sam called out to the shadowy figure.

    "Hey buddy, do you need some help?"

    "Sam stop, we don’t even know who he is! He could be a fucking killer for all we know!" I whispered, uncertain. Indeed I was, around where I'm from, you can't even tell who's friend or foe.

    "Mark relax, he's just some guy who had a lot to drink. It's cool, I got this."

    Obviously Sam didn't get it. I was scared that he could be someone who would shoot him dead for his wallet, but something in the back of my mind reminded me of my nightmare; that rat-man thing from my nightmare. The way this man's dressed: The hoodie, the jeans, it's similar to the animalistic boogeyman that haunted me days before our trip on Sam's yacht. My gut told me to run, but I was stuck in one place; frozen in fear.

    Suddenly, as I was about to tell Sam to get away from this man, it was too late. The figure lifted his head and screeched as Sam and I saw his face. His head was warped into the head of a rat, his teeth sharp and pointed, his eyes blood shot, as if the creature hasn't slept in months. The fingers on each inhuman hand has a set of razor sharp finger nails, and so as his toes. His clothes both are dirty, as if he had been trapped inside the sewers for almost years. And I can smell it on him, it was a smell so vile, it made both me and Sam gag on our on vomit.

    I yelled at Sam to run, and we did just that. We ran, and ran, and ran till we thought our lungs would burst! We stopped at the nearby hotel, and breathed heavy breaths. It felt as if we ran a whole marathon. We didn't dare look back, we were too afraid. Just then, I saw Sam check his back, and he said loudly, "Ah, Fuck!"

    I looked, and saw that his backpack was missing. We were sitting on the bench when we saw the creature.

    "I'll go get my backpack, you go home and get some rest." Sam said.

    "Sam, don't! What if it's still there?!" I begged.

    "I'll be fine, you had a busy day. Now go home and get some shut-eye. I'll call you in the morning."

    I had nothing to hold Sam back on, so I did what I was told.

    I didn't sleep that night, I was thinking about Sam, and most of all... That- that thing. Whatever it was, it must've had some... connection with me or something.

    Did the creature escape my nightmare, and enter the real world? Was it some sort of Demon? And was I dreaming this whole time? These questions have been circling in my mind, ever since that horrible experience.

    The next morning, I haven't got any calls from Sam like he promised. I kept trying to call him, but all I got was the same voice when you make voice messages. And that's all I did, leave voice mails for Sam; telling him to pick up his phone. Finally, I drove to his apartment, and knocked on his door. No response. So, I went to open the door, but found it already unlocked. I stepped inside, and looked around for Sam.

    Then... I found him. Dead.

    Cause of death: Broken Heart Syndrome.

    I then saw a note on his bedroom dresser, and I put all the pieces together. I checked the surveillance cameras, and saw... It. The monster had crept in Sam's apartment, with Sam's own backpack. It must've took it when Sam and I ran away, and forgot all about it. It went inside Sam's apartment, and when Sam saw the creature creeping inside his bedroom, he literally died of fright.

    Then the creature wrote the note in which, I have in my possession to this day.

    It reads:

    You left this on the bench. Thought I might wanna give it back to ya. Your welcome.

    - Mortimer.

      Loading editor
    • The middle of this is a direct rip from The Demon Tobit of Delphia from K. Banning Kellum and has nothing to do with the story itself. The whole boat trip seems to have been added as an after thought or this is trollpasta.

        Loading editor
    • I rather liked it - or I did until the issue of plagiarism came out.

        Loading editor
    • The Demon Tobit of Delphia

      "

      Two weeks later I was sitting at a street café with my friend Sergio. Sergio's father owned a yacht, and since our first day of college together, Serge and I had spoken non-stop about taking that yacht out on the open waters. Sailing from the Gulf of Mexico, down the coast of South America, and then back again.

      "So, is your dad really going to go for it, Serge?"

      "Yep, we graduated on time, with the right GPA. That was his end of the deal. I asked him last night, and after he studied over my transcripts for about an hour, he agreed that we could take the boat out for our cruise."

      This was to be our defining moment. Right after college but before going into the work force. Our last chance to be crazy kids before settling down into a lifetime of pushing papers and being adults.

      We pulled out our map and began to plot our course again for the millionth time. The boat was docked in Biloxi, MS. We would leave there and just sail south. We had enough supplies locked down to make the trip a breeze. We had all the right port cities marked off to stop at and party. This was going to be an amazing journey.

      We both stocked up on personal items. I brought my portable gaming devices and plenty of batteries. Of course we both had our cameras. Serge was more of a reader, and he stocked up on large novels and other books. Most were just the standard Stephen King type books; however, one he had to go to a special book store in the French Quarter, called Esoterica, and order.

      I only saw the book once before we set sail. It was a paperback, nothing fancy; however, it had no title, no author, nothing on the spine. I asked him what it was for, and he responded that it was,

      "For the journey."

      He wouldn't go any further about it, and honestly I really didn't care. The only thing on my mind at that time was setting sail.

      Three days later we were sitting at a Starbucks in downtown Biloxi, waiting on the call from the marina. Serge's dad had hired a professional crew to ensure that every inch of the boat was in top notch condition. Serge was being strangely quiet for once. He was writing numbers on his napkin. I asked him what was up, and he just shrugged, told me he was thinking, and promptly tossed the napkin in the trash.

      Shortly afterwards, we received a call from the dock crew, telling us that our yacht was all set. We had left our cars in a pay-lot for safe keeping in Biloxi, and would pick them up in about five weeks, when the round trip was complete.

      Upon arrival at the marina, we loaded up our personal belongings, conducted a quick safety brief with the dock crew, checked our essentials one last time, and finally, after four years of waiting and talking, we set sail.

      To tell a little about this yacht, it was pretty much a floating house. Needless to say, Serge's dad was rich. We both had private bedrooms on this boat; it had a fully functional kitchen, a 62" television with a mounted satellite for all the channels, all the gaming consoles on the market, tons of food, and a respectable amount of emergency supplies. We had dried rations similar to military MRE's and enough bottled water to drown a whale."

      This story: "

      Two weeks later I was sitting at a street café with my friend Sam. Sam's father owned a yacht, and since our first day of college together, Sam and I had spoken non-stop about taking that yacht out on the open waters. Sailing from the Gulf of Mexico, down the coast of South America, and then back again.

      "So, is your dad really going to go for it, Sam?"

      "Yep, we graduated on time, with the right GPA. That was his end of the deal. I asked him last night, and after he studied over my transcripts for about an hour, he agreed that we could take the boat out for our cruise."

      This was to be our defining moment. Right after college but before going into the work force. Our last chance to be crazy kids before settling down into a lifetime of pushing papers and being adults.

      We pulled out our map and began to plot our course again for the millionth time. The boat was docked in Biloxi, MS. We would leave there and just sail south. We had enough supplies locked down to make the trip a breeze. We had all the right port cities marked off to stop at and party. This was going to be an amazing journey.

      We both stocked up on personal items. I brought my portable gaming devices and plenty of batteries. Of course we both had our cameras. Sam was more of a reader, and he stocked up on large novels and other books. Most were just the standard Stephen King type books; however, he goes to the New York Public Library and buys whatever he can get his hands on. Until he got a strange book I never knew about.

      I only saw the book once before we set sail. It was a paperback, nothing fancy; however, it had no title, no author, nothing on the spine. I asked him what it was for, and he responded that it was, For the journey.

      He wouldn't go any further about it, and honestly I really didn't care. The only thing on my mind at that time was setting sail.

      Three days later we were sitting at a Starbucks in 80 Delancey Street, waiting on the call from the marina. Sam's dad had hired a professional crew to ensure that every inch of the boat was in top notch condition. Sam was being strangely quiet for once. He was writing numbers on his napkin. I asked him what was up, and he just shrugged, told me he was thinking, and promptly tossed the napkin in the trash.

      Shortly afterwards, we received a call from the dock crew, telling us that our yacht was all set. We had left our cars in a pay-lot for safe keeping, and would pick them up in about five weeks, when the round trip was complete.

      Upon arrival at the marina, we loaded up our personal belongings, conducted a quick safety brief with the dock crew, checked our essentials one last time, and finally, after four years of waiting and talking, we set sail.

      To tell a little about this yacht, it was pretty much a floating house. Needless to say, Sam's dad was rich. We both had private bedrooms on this boat; it had a fully functional kitchen, a 62" television with a mounted satellite for all the channels, all the gaming consoles on the market, tons of food, and a respectable amount of emergency supplies. We had dried rations similar to military MRE's and enough bottled water to drown a whale."

        Loading editor
    • Sorry guys... Damn I'm stupid!

        Loading editor
    • Psychopasta,

      Delete the plagiarism in the middle. Let's start over. Let's see what YOU can do.

        Loading editor
    • Okay, but I'll do it tomorrow. I promise to delete the plagiarism and make it right!

      You have my word.

        Loading editor
    • This has actually been posted one another CP Wiki https://geosheas-lost-episodes.wikia.com/wiki/Mortimer_the_Rat

        Loading editor
    • Okay. I understand. Thank you for noticing.

        Loading editor
    • L0CKED334 wrote:
      This has actually been posted one another CP Wiki

      https://geosheas-lost-episodes.wikia.com/wiki/Mortimer_the_Rat

      Which seems to be a direct rip of this Wiki...

      https://geosheas-lost-episodes.wikia.com/wiki/Quality_Standards

        Loading editor
    • D'OH!

        Loading editor
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