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About Varied / Hobbyist fryin' ryanMale/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 3 Years
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you move on
i'll stay behind
the shortest straw
smolders in my mind
burning a hole
searing through my soul
head pulling heartstrings
plucking the notes of rejection
acceptance is key
tolerate the misery
someday i'll maybe see
what went wrong
realizing it was me
struggle with it hypothetically
pathetically, i can't let go
can't express this or let you know
unarticulated, it festers
mentally creeping in my head
sly as a mollester
let me touch your fear
bringing what i got
it's nothing good
it's not a whole lot
it's me, put on the spot
i just can't say it
can't let you know
i'm staying behind
and you should go
sometimes farther
can keep us closer
so just go away
save what's between us
for better days
or let it die
because i stayed behind
"When he should come he throws up! When he should throw up he comes!" chanted the madman over and again, eyes darting to and fro as if looking for some holy answer to his vexing conundrum.  The chaps head was shaven bald, and he had a centraly crammed face surrounded by a big moon pie head.  He was slightly tubby and a bit large but nevertheless appeared to be harlmess.  Except, for the wheelchair he was strapped to and straight jacketed in.  

"Give 'em hell!  Give 'em what they want!" was the next chant to bellow forth.  Over and over, he screamed at the top of his lungs.  The other patients in the Activity Room turned from the television in the corner to look upon Elmer, a growing excitement on their faces.  First one, then others began to mimic his chant.  Some whispered, while a few wailed as if in the grips of great passion.  They began to stomp and slam fists on the tables in tempo to the rising crescendo.  Some stood up, while a ghoul of a man, buzz cut and buzzed beard in stark contrast to his near albino complexion, sat in a fetal pose in the corner.

Luther was the bony patiens name, and he whispered a prayer in the form of a statement to himself, "They're doing it wrong.  Ha!  They're doing it all wrong have a little longer."  He fancied himself a repentant Devil, trying to get back in good graces with God, here in his mind at the end of all things.  

Mary, an attractive woman with a constant rebellious expression stamped on her face, ripped her hospital gown open and wagged her perfect breasts at the other patients, cackling and screaming "Want some tittie?"  It was like Babel all over again.  

Then the bouncers came into the room.  They had dense black rubber clubs weighted at the ends.  Soon the room filled with the chaos of screams and the dull "whap!  whapping" of the bouncers weapons.  For them, the paycheck came through suppression of the patients, who tend to riot when Elmer gets them riled.  In the end there are sobs and ten thousand tears on the tile floor.  There are whelps and bruises, accompanied with sniffles.  Then a calm panting in the air, followed by grateful typical morning at the sanitarium they all called The Satanatarium.

Elmer was carted down to the Quiet Room at the end of the hall past the Nurses Station.  He sat strapped in the wheelchair, giggling triumpantly to himself, eyes rolling, with an expression of glee on his face, like a kid who just scared the bejesus out of his parents with some prank.  A padded soundproof cell, the Quiet Room was barren save a table/bed in the center, heavily padded also.  All the padding was behind tightly stretched pink cloth, lending the look of being constructed entirely of pink pillows fit for a little princess.  Supposedly the color pink is a soothing, calming color to look upon, and so it seemed this was true, for the patients sometines even fell asleep after struggling for a while on the bed.

After elmer was stowed in the room, Brock, the head bouncer walked back up the hall to the Nurses Station and chatted with one of the Techs behind the counter.  A loud Buzzer sounded signifying that the entrance to the floor, known as Ward Thirteen was being opened, and the two metal doors at the other end of the hall swung wide.  In rolled a man strapped to a gurney, being pushed up to the Station to be registered as a patient.  It was a formality, but the nurse behind the desk stood, peered over the counter, and began to ask the new guy some questions, usually these were answered with nonsensical Satanic gibberish, and this man was no different.  

"Do you feel homicidal or suicidal Mr. Slatter?" was her first question.  

"I have a plan..." he stated, "this place is perfect!" he said looking around, craning his head from side to side to see the layout of the place.  "Where's my room?  It has to be private."

"You'll be sharing a room with Arnold, room 18 down at the end of the hall sir."

"That's no good, no good at all, I need my privacy, but that's okay, 'cause I have a plan..."

"Just a few more questions Mr. Slatter."

"Lucifer has granted me abilities beyond your wildest imagination!"

Suddenly, the lights flickered.  It was storming outside, rain pounded the windows of the Activity Room.  Peals of thunder resounded and the windows vibrated.  The electric blinked on and off for ten seconds and then went out completely, engulfing all in darkness.

"Shit!" muttered the Tech who was pushing the gurney minutes earlier.  The bouncers turned on their flashlights, and panned the lights around the halls and rooms, doing a head count and rounding everyone up in the wide hall.  

"Where's Mary?" inquired Brock.

"Want some tittie tough guy?" she piped up, having crept up behind him with her hospital gown open once again.

After all was calm, Brock, a bull of a man, ordered the bouncers beneath him to escort the patients to their rooms, instructing them to "take no shit."

The rest of the night passed uneventfully when all were asleep, or so it seemed, until the next morning when Kyle, a Tech that was new here made his last round of room checks, as he had done repeatedly all night at fifteen minute intervals, before getting to clock out and go home.  It was six AM, and everyone appeared to have had a good nights sleep, at least until he cracked the door to room eighteen and shined a pen light into the gloom.  At first he stood there in shock, then yelled for Brock, who came running down to the end of the hall.  Shining his light into the room, they both jumped as the electric finally blinked back on, revealing a cannibalistic scene before them.  

Arnold was splayed on his bed belly up, Slatter was on top of him, hunched like a wolf over a carcass.  Arnold was quite dead, an enormous amount of blood covered the bed, leaking from the ragged wound where his adams apple should have been.  Slatter looked up from his meal, bands of blood and strings of muscle tissue running down his face and hanging limp from his mouth.  He slurped up the meat and licked his lips with a grin.  The way he did it reminded Kyle of someone slurping spaghetti noodles.  Brock barged into the room, rubber club descended to touch down its weighted end on Slatters temple, erasing the grin from his face, and sending him over the edge of the bed where he crumpled to the floor like a chaotic heap of laundry.
somehow i was there
sparse surroundings
gaming chairs
but none could see me
i was there in consciousness only
i knew
but you didn't
of what you were getting into
i scream no but no sound is made
and a kiss, a prick
lighter than a mosquitos caress
in the crook of your arm
i hope you didn't feel a thing
just like they said you would
too much, too much man
helpless i turn and fade
fact-more americans have died as a result of police brutality since 9/11 than the brave military men and women who served in the middle east since the beginning of the war in iraq.

Journal History


Negative-Pallor's Profile Picture
fryin' ryan
Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
United States
My name is Ryan Miller. I like to draw, mess with imagery on the gimp and other digital applications, and I like to write. I have even been paid a small amount for a published piece or short horror fiction entitled Shaman in a collection called When Nightmares Fall. Most of my visual art starts as a pencil or pen drawing and gets finished up eventually on the computer. I like the outdoors but should probably spend more time there. My outdoor hobbies include swimming, nature hikes, and medicinal herb cultivation (not weed, although I smoke plenty), and I would like to start fishing and camping more. I used to hunt a lot but shied away from guns when I became mentally unstable, however I have many archery trophies and may start hunting again with a bow or crossbow. The only thing I've killed with a bow was a squirrel, a hard target to hit, and I have killed three deer, and countless squirrels and rabbits with rifle and shotgun. I like to gig, the art of spearing fish and frogs with a long forked pole from either boat, shore, or wading water, although it's been a few years since I have owned a license to do so (I am below middle class and am on a tighter budged than I used to be), although I grew up in a middle class setting .

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liha-irden Featured By Owner Aug 23, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for the favorite!
Negative-Pallor Featured By Owner Aug 23, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
very welcome!
tsukiko-kiyomidzu Featured By Owner Jun 28, 2015  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thank you for the watch! :D I really appreciate it! :hug:
Negative-Pallor Featured By Owner Jun 29, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
enc86 Featured By Owner Apr 28, 2015
Thanks a tonnage for the watch! more scale models on the way.
Negative-Pallor Featured By Owner Apr 29, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Crowsrock Featured By Owner Apr 26, 2015
Thanks a lot for all those favorites! :)
Negative-Pallor Featured By Owner Apr 28, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
SleentheBeast Featured By Owner Dec 26, 2014  Professional General Artist
Thanks so much for the fave Ryan. O haven't seen too many people on here that's been frog gigging
Negative-Pallor Featured By Owner Dec 27, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
ha, fish are easier for me to gig cause they are in schools, miss one and you might hit another on accident and up on the boat with those lights its like looking down into a night time aquarium.  and you are welcome!
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