The following that was published is half of a now deleted internet group chat from the social media application known as Discord. Here, many users begin discussing a popular children’s restaurant that has been shut down for approximately almost 40 years, that being “Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza.” The reasoning for the group chat’s deletion from the internet is still unknown, but we’ve managed to uncover many of the messages that have been sent thanks to some notepads given by a user that wishes to remain anonymous. FFike (3/10/2024) 5:46 PM I’ve recently heard from a pawn shop owner about some old, vintage pizzeria restaurant chain that was known as “Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza”…I got interested. VERY. What was that all about? DYLANW…

Ruby, crimson, scarlet. The colour of fire, of passion, of pain. Red. How I love it. It was beautiful. The boldness, the warmth of the colour stirred something deep inside me. It whispered to the very core of my being. Dark, seductive. Velvet promises of unrivalled pain and pleasure. It made me feel alive, but it was so rarely found pure and untouched. Red. Its essence, I could only behold it in fleeting glimpses. It always vanished before I could really appreciate that loveliness. Blossoms wilted, makeup faded, and the garments of passers-by were never the right shade. I hungered for something deeper, richer than those glimpses of beauty. It was then that something occurred to me… the colour of…

I remember that night all too vividly, as if the memories were etched into my very soul. It was a cold, moonless evening, the kind that sends shivers down your spine and makes you wish for the warmth and safety of home. But little did I know that home would offer no sanctuary from the horrors that awaited me. We were gathered around the campfire, a group of friends seeking refuge from the darkness that enveloped the forest like a shroud. The flames danced and flickered, casting eerie shadows upon the trees that loomed ominously in the distance. It was then that I first heard it, a faint rustling in the underbrush that sent a chill down my spine. At…

I prefer not to speak about the days I worked for Coca-Cola. However, I feel it is my duty to reveal the sick secrets of this wicked corporation. They were willing to torment people, use them as puppets, torture them, and even take their lives, just to assure their business stayed on top. Not too many years ago, I would say around 2009, I was gaining acclaim for the diligence and impressive skill I displayed. The manager of our Coca-Cola sector promoted me to oversee the newest project they were testing. It was called Hyper-Cola. Energy drinks were rising in popularity, and Coca-Cola had no product to compete in this field. Hyper-Cola was planned to alter just that. I had…

Everyone knew that Elias would die young. His life was cursed from the beginning. When he was only seven years old, his existence was already marked by death and chaos. He watched his mother Grace get murdered by his step-father Tim. He strangled the woman with his bare hands and when she was finally dead he picked up a large kitchen knife and proceeded to stab himself in the chest multiple times until he died of blood loss. Elias locked himself in his room and when he came out the police were already taking her away in a body bag. It’s no coincidence our first album, “Body Bag EP” was called just that. In the early days Blasphemous Requiem started…

Bloody and beaten from the journey you’ve had, you finally arrive. A haunting, immense palace of the long fallen kingdom comes into view. Crumbling staircases and ornate statues in every direction you look, each statue represents something, this kingdom… was built on fear. Fear of dying out. As you climb the stairs, you look at each engraving in the cracked stone walls. Horrific experiments displayed, various ways they have tried to impregnate their females, mutilation, torture, mutated fetuses, birth, death, and so much more. You step inside the palace. There is an eerie silence. Deafening in a way as if the people of this kingdom are watching you.The only hint that people even lived here, however, is the bodies. Hanging…

I awoke to the sound of dripping water, it was coming from somewhere in the kitchen, the open door just a few feet away. The smell hit me, just as pungent as it was when I went to sleep. My eyes started to water at the pure concentration of the odor, and the nausea set in. How long had it been since I arrived here? A week? A month? It sure felt like forever, but time was useless for me, since I knew however long it had been wouldn’t affect how long it would be until I could leave. I heard the muffled humming, coming from a distance. It was him… he was on his way back. As he got…

I have nightmares where I’m trapped in a shower. The drain is plugged, and the the water won’t stop pouring down on me. Water rises to my ankles, to my waist, and then over my head. The shower curtain turns to glass, and my screams turn to gargles. A dark figure presses its face against the glass on the other side, and it watches me. I plead, but it won’t let me out. I swallow water and flail helplessly in my glass coffin. I wake up gagging. I know where the nightmare came from – I never have to dig deep. The incident is never far from my subconscious. Finding it is easy. Getting over it is not. It was…

I don’t know what’s worse, the screams that ended a few weeks ago, or the silence that has fallen since then. Before, I felt like everything should be done to help others. Now, in my self-reflection, I don’t know anymore. It was like any other day in the city. Sunny, crowded, and busy. I was walking to work at a large national bank, where I recently began an internship. I remember the day well because, besides the obvious fact that the world ended on this day, I had finally convinced myself to talk to the cute secretary across the hall from me. Things just seemed to be going my way that day. I walked to work every day, and the…

When I was in high school, my friends and I had a peculiar pastime. Like any teenage delinquent, we liked to cause trouble. We weren’t vandals, we didn’t deal drugs, and we certainly didn’t bully kids in school. No, we liked to scare the living shit out of new parents by “hacking” their baby monitors. We were insufferable little punks who thought we were too good to get caught, and that our little acts of mischief would go unpunished. One night; however, I learned my lesson, and realized that I wasn’t quite as bulletproof as my tremendous adolescent ego made me out to be. Dimitri, Kurt, and I went to the same school, shared many of the same classes, and…