So, I'm giving you a link to my Terror Tortellini (creepypasta.com replacement, the creator gave it to Vaughn because he was tired and Vaughn wanted to continue the creepypasta legend)
So, yeah. My terror tortellini main post since we don't have actual public profiles.
And here's my final rewritten draft of the story (They've been merged, it's farther down on the page of the link- Also, MY name is Kenken.)
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I'd always thought of myself as a stylish guy. Go outside to the woods now and again to camp out with my friends. I'm quite physically attractive if I do say so myself, and pretty fit and in-shape. I work as a telemarketer and I receive a lot less hater calls and even a few successful calls compared to my friends and co-workers thanks to my voice quality.
Then again, most people save for my friends view me as a sort of... background character. Most people I knew, I've known since maybe ninth grade. All of them were similar to me, of course, not exactly like me. Their names are Kenneth, Matt, and Gary. My name is Monroe. But my friends call me Zero, because I'm probably the least on the totem pole. Then again it's a cool name, Zero.
Anyway, on to the story.
There was one night I went to the bar, where it's sort of close to my house, just about 30 a second drive down the street when it's clear. I drank a little too much this particular night, and I decided that since it's pretty late, it'd be pretty safe to drive as far as my house.
So I did. And nothing happened. Until I got out of my car. Immediately, I hear a car's horn go off very loudly. It was someone warning a minivan going 100 mph to slow down. That minivan sped just past my own jeep and almost nicked it. Keep in mind there's a sidewalk in between my driveway and the road. But it gets worse. The car sped down towards the bar, swerved to the left, and sped right into the building! From where I was standing, I didn't see too much. But I know it happened. I thought maybe I was hallucinating and decided to walk into my house and contemplate while taking some aspirin and pepto.
So, while I was laying in my bed thinking about the incident, I drifted off to sleep. This is at about 10, maybe 10:45 at night.
When I woke up the next morning, I had already forgotten about what happened the night before. I got up, got dressed and went to work like any other day.
During work, I got the most haters out of all of my co-workers, almost double the person in "second place" (A game we play. Whoever gets the most hate is 1st, etc). I blamed it on luck.
That night, the guys and I decided to go to the woods with our tent and beer and food and all that stuff. Walking down the road from my house would've saved us. But since we were ready from Gary's house, which is down the street the same direction the bar is from my house, we were not.
The bar had been fixed. I thought of how it would have been fixed so quickly, and none of the guys even remembered what had happened (it was on the news, at least at my house).
The same minivan. The same spot right in front of my house. The same exact time. The minivan sped straight toward me. I jumped out of the way, but I wasn't quick enough. I was hit by the corner of the car. My blood spilled all over it. Only Kenneth and I survived the crash. I passed out and didn't know of anything in between then and when I awoke in the hospital in serious pain. I'd broken both of my legs, and even a rib was smashed because I vaulted forward on the car. Ken was in even worse shape. Three teeth gone, four ribs cracked, both arms broken and I don't even know of anything else.
I was taken care of and healed up in a few months. Kenneth got out long after me. I called him a few times at home after he was discharged but to no avail. He hadn't answered. So, after a few days, I decided to go over and see if he was still okay. Kenneth's house is just across the street from mine. It was the weekend, so I went out in the day. Not many people passed, but those that did looked at me in extreme terror. I was scared for myself because I soon realized their screams made my mouth water... I ignored it and went to Ken's place. I knocked on the door and a woman opened the door. She was probably a nurse. She then screamed bloody murder and while running from me, revealed Ken in a wheelchair with multiple casts. He too screamed and flinched in terror.
I was unconscious for a bit. At least I thought I was. When I awoke, I was inside Ken's house. I looked around, and just to my left, Ken and the nurse's ripped open corpses were next to me. I looked at a mirror Ken owned, and screamed. At least I tried to. My vocal chords had probably rotted away like the rest of my body. The lower half of my jaw had fallen off, my chest had died and skin fell off revealing a few ribs, dead muscle tissue and my pale colored entrails were hanging loosely on my lower torso. But I looked back at their corpses.
And they looked back.
And we were all hungry.
Writer's note: I elongated this a bit. I loved writing it, because I was in the mood for some zombie/terror/macabre. Yeah, he was supposed to be a zombie if you didn't catch it. I'd sure love some feedback and constructive criticism. If you haven't, please read the ORIGINAL story to see how much better or worse this was than it. The mystery in this story was more on the "red herring" part. The story is entitled "lucky" because Zero encounters many coincidences on his journey to zombiehood. He turns into a zombie because of a freak accident, he dies, but isn't really... dead. His body works, he can think and all, but the blood stops pumping or something, and there's nothing to fuel him. Which is kind of why he becomes a zombie. The blood sits there becoming more and more rotten, and when it contacts another human, they turn. Like normal zombie shit except it's blood rotten-ness, not a virus.
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So, I'll be putting all of my original storied and most of the ones I love on my Newgrounds.com account. Tell me what you guys think.
Here's a picture of the famous Boxxy meme as a Zalgo type image.
