New Evidence Could Point to Cause of Italian Earthquake

My brain just fucking EXPLODED.

21do87t.gif
 
Time for some bad stories!




Twenty years ago, global warming reached a new stage where, for the first time in modern human history, the threat of our civilization being wiped out became all too real.

Before, the dangers of our ever-warming planet were confined to wild speculation and fantasy; no one had thought that day would come so quickly, but it did.

I remember it so clearly. Reports flooded in from all over the world of a drastic rise in skin-related diseases, of massive chunks of ice breaking off of the Antarctic mainland, of freak storms and mud slides that engulfed whole villages.

On that day, we faced the fury of a world we nearly destroyed with pollution, mindless slaughtering of wildlife and desecration of forests.

It was on that day that Nature made its first and greatest stand against us, and we were helpless to do anything about it but cower in fear from her wrath.

Then, the worst news came Once-harmless viruses had begun to mutate and infect a large portion of the world’s animal livestock. Poultry, cattle, and even plants were not spared. Many new diseases appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

All while this happened, we continued to receive more reports of thousands dead each hour as coastal towns vanished forever beneath the water’s surface. Airports, harbors, schools and businesses were closed.

The world came to a screeching halt. And yet, the effects of global warming only grew worse with each passing day. Great deserts formed where once there were lush forests and beautiful, sparkling lakes.

Over the next few weeks, millions of animals that we had relied on for food began to die. The world’s food supply reached dangerously low levels. Vaccines could not be made fast enough. New viruses emerged every few days.

The world entered into another World War. Nations formed fragile alliances and fought amongst each other for control of whatever little resources still remained.

At the height of this war, a conference was held by a shattered United Nations. The outcome of that conference would erode the very last strand of morality we still possessed. It was a necessary evil for our civilization to continue to survive.

A new nation, New Eurasia, situated at the heart of Central Asia, was formed. It consisted of once-powerful nations that had crumbled under worldwide conflict and civil war. New Eurasia was to become our salvation, our last hope for our lessening food supply. There, humans were bred and kept as livestock, in massive factories and slaughtered for food. We had turned into cannibals.

I was a journalist for the New International, a news agency, and I was sent to that hellish land to bring news to the world. It was an assignment I had not wanted, and refused many times, but the agency had sent me anyway.

Until today, the images that I had seen in my two-hour tour of one of the hundreds of factories there still haunt my dreams.

I had visited animal slaughterhouses before, but the conditions in those factories were far worse, and completely inhumane. It also occurred to me how low a level we could bring ourselves to in order to survive.

My tour in that horrible place started at noon on a Saturday. My guide was a frail-looking, middle-aged man clad in a dark-gray overall, his pockets filled with all sorts of tools, from hammers to scalpels to screwdrivers. He told me he was a Warden. His jobs included patrolling the factory, overseeing the meat processing, supervising the other workers, among many others.

I think what frightened me most about that man was how he didn’t seem at all guilty. Throughout the tour, a wide grin remained spread across his dirty face.

As I stepped past the main entrance into the visitors’ hall, I was given a green tag to wear around my neck. The Warden, Billy, told me that very few visitors were allowed there. I don’t think I considered myself one of the lucky ones. If anything, I wished I had never gone into that damned place.

I had to change into a simple, plastic overall before I was allowed to continue into the factory. The visitors’ hall was fairly clean and well decorated, but as Billy took me down a seemingly endless corridor, my surroundings grew darker and dirtier. The portraits on the walls gave way to tiles covered in algae.

The worst was yet to come, and when it did, it hit me with the force of a speeding train. Billy had not warned me of what to expect. I was shocked. This was the first time a camera was allowed into the factory, and I took mine out of my sling bag.

The first thing I heard was the ceaseless cries and moans of utter agony coming from ahead. I choked on my own saliva; the stench of spilt blood and raw meat assaulted my senses. But still, I hadn’t seen anything yet.

Then, Billy opened a metal door at the end of the corridor, and shoved me gently forward.

An uncontrollable wave of nausea washed over my body. As my eyes rose from the damp, bloodstained floor to the ceiling dozens of meters above, I saw a vision of Hell. It was the Hell that the religious had so often spoken of. There were the screams, writhing bodies and flames from fire pits that charred flesh and bone. There were steel rods like devils’ tridents that impaled soft flesh. There was only one exception; this Hell was on Earth, and I had unsuspectingly stepped into it.

For as far as I could see, the same horrible scenes played themselves out over and over again. Billy said that 35,000 people were slaughtered here every day. Then, he added that more would always be available and there would not be a shortage. I could not bear to look any longer, but I had to. I had a job to do.

Billy explained that this room was the slaughter room, the biggest one in the factory. He walked me through an aisle as he continued to explain. I began taking pictures and scribbling down notes, but I could never fully focus on the task at hand.

On my left, thousands of people were hung upside down, limbs bound together. They were moved slowly by a conveyer that brought them towards a row of blades that would slit their throats as they passed by. There were some who missed the blades as they struggled and squirmed, so workers like Billy had to personally do the job with an assortment of tools.

The most commonly used one was the sickle. Billy offered to demonstrate for me, but I declined. He still did it anyway. I looked away, but I could not avoid hearing the terrible scream that followed. Blood splattered onto me.

Tears formed at the corners of my eyes. They trickled down my face in little streams. Billy noticed I was crying and offered me his handkerchief, but I brushed him off.

We continued to walk, and came to the incinerator. This was where human livestock that were diseased were sent. They were tied up and thrown into the pit, at the bottom of which there was a great fire that incinerated the bodies.

We moved on, to another room, after passing through a checkpoint where I had to show my tag. Billy took something resembling a manual out of his pocket and looked at it for a while.

“The Breeding and Monitoring Chamber is up ahead. I have a sort of…connection with that place.”

“Connection?” I stammered, puzzled.

“That’s right. Most of the employees, myself included, have donated our sperm or eggs to the breeding program,” he said.

I wasn’t surprised.

Billy didn’t say a thing until we stepped into the breeding chamber. It was considerably smaller than the previous room, but nonetheless shocking.

Endless rows of what looked like enormous, enclosed vats faced me. Inside, a red, liquid-like substance filled half of each vat.

“What’s inside them?” I gestured at the vats, although I already suspected.

“Eggs, sperm, embryos. Thousands of them. You see those tubes?” he pointed at the half dozen or so tubes attached to each vat. The red substance flowed through each and every one of them.

“That’s a blood and nutrient solution, and each vat perfectly mimics the conditions inside a human womb. With a few exceptions, of course. A synthetic drug is used to artificially enhance and improve the growth and development rate of the embryos. Ageing becomes two times faster than normal.”

“Go on,” I urged, disgusted and yet fascinated.

“When the embryos have grown into fetuses, they are automatically transferred by our machines to other vats,” Billy added, walking me through the chamber.

There, in front of me, were even larger vats, packed with human fetuses. Organic material hugged the inside walls of the transparent containers.

“A perfect, artificial womb,” Billy boasted.

“Gestation period is now four months at most, then they are taken to the storage at the back of this chamber.”

Billy pulled me along as he hurried forward.

“Look, there,” he pointed.

I saw. There were people enclosed in pods. They all looked no older than thirteen years old, yet, their bodies were fully developed like an adult’s. They were also extremely pale and hairless.

“What is this madness?” I blurted.

“Artificially enhanced ageing, remember?” Billy reminded me.

I nodded, shuddering, unable to take my eyes away from the sinful combination child-like faces and voluptuous bodies.

“In the pods, they are fed intravenously by a synthetic solution of nutrients and vitamins. It gives them what they need to grow into…proper and healthy food for consumption,” he added.

I stared at the children. Their eyes were shut, bodies covered with tubes.

“Do they dream?” I wondered aloud.

Billy must have heard me, because he replied.
“Of course. Everyone dreams, but I honestly don’t know what they dream about though. Their eyes do not open until they are sent for slaughter or to the other chambers, where the first and last thing most of them will see is the blade coming towards them, and their own blood flowing.”

“A cruel waste of life,” I muttered.

“A necessity,” he countered. “Life is made up of an individual’s memories and experiences. But, these people will never experience anything that life has to offer. They will never be alive in the conventional sense. They will never know they are alive.”

I checked my watch. An hour had passed.

“Has our tour ended?”

“No, there is still more of the facility you have yet to visit,” Billy replied.

Then, he took me through a maze of dark corridors, until we arrived at another checkpoint, where I again had to show the guard my tag.

I noticed the sign above the next exit.
“Milking Chamber.”

“Where are we going now?” I asked. “Milking Chamber?”

“Yes, sir. Now, please move along,” the guard said.

Another long walk through a corridor, then Billy said, “Here we are.”

Like the slaughter room, the first thing I heard were the tormented cries.

The metal door automatically slid open to the side as we approached, and a strange new world greeted me.

Girls, thousands of them, who looked no older than thirteen years of age, lay across the floor of the entire chamber.

Shackled by their limbs to the damp ground, they moaned and strained their bruised bodies towards us. Dog tags hung on tight chokers around their necks.

Other Wardens patrolled the room, whips in their hands, lashing out at the girls once in a while.

The girls were freaks, spawned by the manipulation of Nature with Science and Technology.

Their breasts had grown to massive proportions, and pumps were attached to each monstrously swollen nipple to extract milk.

“I cannot believe what I am seeing,” I gasped.

“Shocking, isn’t it?”

I glared at Billy as he walked towards one of the girls. The pitiful child had her mouth open, tongue hanging out. She seemed to be in great hunger. Billy raised a boot over the frail girl as she stared at him, frightened and helpless.

“What are you doing?” I demanded, perhaps a little too loudly.

Without a word, he brought the foot down hard on the girl’s left breast. She writhed in pain as the pump detached from her nipple with a sick, wet sound.

Her breast milk sprayed onto the ground, forming a white puddle. Without hesitation, the girl craned her neck, reaching for the milk with her tongue.

“Go on, taste it,” Billy persuaded me. “We produce top-quality milk in this factory.”

At that instant, I lost whatever little respect I had for the man. He was crazed, sadistic.

“No,” I said firmly, but Billy bent forward and scooped some milk off the ground with his hand, then licked it off.

“Please, let’s just go,” I begged. My heart ached at the sight before me. I could not remain here to watch this any longer.

“Fine,” he said, attaching the pump back onto the girl’s nipple. By then, my notepad was more than half filled with my scribbling.

Reluctantly, I took a few pictures.

“We’ll be heading to the Packing Chamber next. Be sure to get your camera ready,” Billy snickered.

The next chamber was much, much more horrible than the slaughter room.

There, alive, conscious, and without being given any anesthetic, people were bound to metal tables to have their limbs sawed off by mechanical tools. Then, they were decapitated and their individual body parts transferred onto a conveyer.

I had become a cannibal too, but the only parts of a human body I ate were the limbs.

After my visit to that factory, I fasted for more than week. I had even attempted to kill myself a few times. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.

I couldn’t live with those horrifying images trapped in my mind. But, I lived. Everyday since then has been the same. I quitted my job as a journalist and spent my days at home, too frightened to go out and face the world.

Eventually, I became mad, and was sent to a mental hospital, where I currently am residing. I do not know how long this would go on, but the world is getting better.

I only hope to live long enough to taste the flesh of a potato again.
 
Here we go, this one is entitled: Claire Bennett Brain Fuck:

Claire Bennett unlike most people has experienced a million life changing moments, when she first found out she could heal from any wound almost instantly, to the many occasions when it was put to the test. But after tonight, when someone asks her of the most incredible moment of her life, she will have only one answer. The night syler cut open her head and played with her brain. Claire I used to feeling pain, and discomfort from her injuries, but this was different, while the brain itself feels nothing, each prod would send her body twitching and she could feel the subtle effects of being explored at the back of her mind. She knows that all he would need to do is sink his fingers in a little and stir it around and her mind would be gone, at least until his hand was removed. The greatest revelation was that this was it, the most intimate and terrifying thing she could dream up was happening, and she could survive it, she could survive anything

Blood drips down her face, a square of bloody bone and scalp sitting on the grass next to her, with the surgical saw she used to remove it. as her middle digit probes the folds of her brain she rationalizes it as typical teenage exploration, except that her boundaries are far beyond those of her classmates. In the past she would have thought of them as peers, but she looked up the definition once, people of equal social status, abilities, age, and so on, but no one had abilities like hers, or at least not many people did. Exploration is all about the collection of information, among the things she has learned is that the sensations, both mental and physical make it so damn hard to stay focused. Her fingers were just putting pressure on the surface, massaging over the ripples of her brain matter. The surface was a rough from the veins, but she knows that it would only take a little pressure to insert her finger all the way in, but she doesn’t, she has no idea what would happen, would she pass out, would she die? She could not risk having anyone find her collapsed on the floor with her skull cut open and her fingers knuckle deep in her own brain. On this thought she focuses, how long has she been doing this? It was dark, no one would find her here, but if she stays too long they might start looking, she sits up and replaces the square of bone, and feels as the tissue reconnects and heals over. The saw she returns to her bag. Her sense of time is so skewed, it could be very late, or very early for all she could tell, and as she glanced a her watch she was surprised to see it was only nine, her parents would have no reason to worry yet. Even so she was tired, and wanted a shower.


She sat on the hill looking out over the city, all the tiny lights in the distance. She loved that view. She came up here to do it again, but when it came to it, she couldn’t. it was not until last night that she realized the risk she had been talking, an instant away from unconscious and the thousand questions that would come when someone found her. And when she realized she couldn’t risk it, she realized how much she wanted to. What did this say about her, was there something wrong with her? “im already a freak” she said to herself, “whats one more thing?”
The time for thinking had ended, she knew what she wanted to do, she just had to figure out the safest way. She needed something top ensure that should she pass out, or die, she would not stay that way until some person happened to find her. But considered different possibilities, but in all of them there was risk. In truth only the most obvious solution was safe, find someone who she could trust, and who would understand, to help her. But who could possibly be that person?

All he wanted was to be a good person, he hated the urges he would get, he hated how much the blood and violence and destruction turned him on, for the longest time he had suppressed these urges, pushed them deep down in his soul and tried to be normal, he got himself a girlfriend, and he treated her well, and had normal sex, in his normal apartment, and for awhile it was good, and then, all of a sudden it stopped being good. Perhaps she sensed his own lack of satisfaction, or perhaps it was just her. Whatever the cause it mattered little to him, for only a day ago, without warning, she left him, just grabbed her things and left. There is only so long you can feel sorry for yourself, and try to change, only so much you can take. He was done holding in all that he felt for fear that he might hurt or scare those around him, he was done being nice, or normal, or good. It was time to find someone, and at last, to satisfy himself

Claire Bennett walked the streets, it was late afternoon, a bit over cast, but the weather was comfortable. It was a fairly relaxing day, but that had no affect on the storm of thoughts going through her mind. How could she satisfy this curiosity of hers? How could she obtain that feeling she desired so badly without ruining ever other part of her life. as she walked she caught the eyes of another pedestrian walking her way, he seemed as troubled as she, and as he passed her he bumped into her, and said nothing. She was to distracted to care, and walked on. Soon though she felt in a daze, her vision blurring, she began to fall, but there was someone to catch her, he walked her away from the busy sidewalk, and by the time she realized he was the same man who bumped into her, and was dragging her to his car, she no longer had the strength to even speak.

She awoke, still in a daze, she was lying on a table, her head just a little past the edge, her mouth was gagged, and she could feel nothing.
A man spoke from somewhere behind her “don’t worry, it will all be over soon, and you wont feel it, I promise”
She heard the sound of an electric saw turn on, and then the sound of it cutting something, behind her, with a surprising slowness she realized it must be her. The sound of the saw ceased, and already the daze was fading, she could feel the whole in her skull, right at the back. Her head was strapped to the table, so she could not turn to see what was happening behind her, but as she heard a zipper undone, she could conjure plenty of ideas. Some of them terribly exciting. Her arm twitched, and she knew something was touching her brain through the newly drilled hole, and then her vision blurred and her hearing stopped, her thoughts fragmented and fell away as complete physical ecstasy engulfed her body.

Her body continued to twitch even after she was dead. His cock was buried in her brain as deep as it would go. Her expression was one of disbelief, with her eyes rolled back slightly, a grotesque mask of enjoyment he though, and it fuelled his lust even more. He started to thrust in and out, around the edges of the hole gray brain matter was torn loose and stuck to him, or to the outside of her head, and at last, when it all was to much, and he could hold it no longer he thrust in deep, and came, filling the mess that was her brain with his seed. And as the last of his cum was expelled into her skull, the lust was gone, in an instant he was entirely rational, and he looked into her life less eyes, and at her body with his member still inside her skull. The realization of what he had done came over him, with drew his member, pulled his pants up, he clumsily ran for a chair across the bench from him, and collapsed into it with his head in his hands. “what have I done?” he screamed as he cried. Soon all suggestions of sensible speech left him as he rocked back and forth and sobbed at what he had done, what had had become.

The last bits of her brain finished regenerating, and her heart started to beat again, and all at once her mind was back, as though between her last thoughts and these fresh ones no time had passed. Her body felt better than ever before, and the sexual gratification she had felt in her last moments, was still with her, with her strength back she reached up and undid the strap holding her head, while replacing the bit of skull she felt on the table next to her head. The strap came undone, and she sat up to see, the man, sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, he had stopped crying, in fact he had stopped breathing, for he was so dumb struck. His eyes stared at her unblinkingly, disbelievingly. And then all of a sudden, as his body realized he it too was alive, and need air, he breathed in deeply, and quickly, blinked, and continued to stare.
She stared back as well, with a mixture of emotions she could not quite articulate. And said with a shy, awkward smile “next time, perhaps you could buy me dinner first.”
 
Remember, if you feel the ground begin to shake, head to a doorway.

Uh, actually, don't. 3 main reasons. First, thanks to modern ADA guidelines, trying to actually keep yourself in a doorway during any significant earthquate is something of an Olympic event. Second, everybody has seen the same movie you have, and a fist fight will break out over who gets to stand in the doorway. Third, and most important, is that many doorways have doors attached to them. Earthquakes make doors very angry -- angry enough to beat your earthquake N00bness to smithereenes. Instead, find a sturdy piece of furniture, one that you wouldn't mind spending the next 10-14 days trapped under waiting for rescue, and sit tight. When it goes for random wanders across the floor, stay under it. If some moron is screaming like a B movie actress, call to them, but don't go get them.

Aaaaaaand that said -- when do we get to start talking about omlettes? Or bacon? I like bacon! It's page 4. [WHINING]I want omlettes and bacon![/WHINING]
 
Uh, actually, don't. 3 main reasons. First, thanks to modern ADA guidelines, trying to actually keep yourself in a doorway during any significant earthquate is something of an Olympic event. Second, everybody has seen the same movie you have, and a fist fight will break out over who gets to stand in the doorway. Third, and most important, is that many doorways have doors attached to them. Earthquakes make doors very angry -- angry enough to beat your earthquake N00bness to smithereenes. Instead, find a sturdy piece of furniture, one that you wouldn't mind spending the next 10-14 days trapped under waiting for rescue, and sit tight. When it goes for random wanders across the floor, stay under it. If some moron is screaming like a B movie actress, call to them, but don't go get them.

Thanks, joke slayer.
 
Real men beard their way out, fuck a 14 day wait. Just cook bacon and omelettes in front of the building he's trapped under, he'll come flying right out chin-first.
 
Thanks, joke slayer.

Oh you're welcome. Really -- anytime! I'm a helper! *nods enthusiastically*

Real men beard their way out, fuck a 14 day wait. Just cook bacon and omelettes in front of the building he's trapped under, he'll come flying right out chin-first.

Yay! A bacon post! *bouncing up and down clapping wildly*

I knew I could count on you guys! *snif*