Artemia – Episode 1 – Late Posting!

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Attention Devils and Ghouls,

I apologize for posting this late. My weekend was full of events I was unaware of and I do hope you forgive me and enjoy the passage below.

– Mercy Desdemona

 

 

Artemia: Ep.1

         I am an old soul trapped within a young body. I remember every detail, scent, name, etc. All of my lives. From beginning to end. I sit here smoking a cigarette, watching the smoke curl. A century ago, I was Bernadatte. A wealthy woman with a lot of political influence. My soul was born in 5 A.D. No I am not a vampire or a creature of the night. I am just a mere soul that refuses to rest in peace. No matter how hard I try. So here we are in 2013. I’m a young woman of twenty-three and I work as a receptionist at a tattoo parlor. I have to say, I have been lucky with my soul finding attractive people to call home. In the 1920s, I was Annabel Lee the Flapper. In the 1950s, I was a pin-up working a long side Betty Page. And in 2013, I’m a lovely and eccentric young woman.

        My name is Artemia. As I’ve stated before. I’m twenty-three. I live in a cabin near Dark Pond. Secluded by trees and away from town. Just how I like it. I hate when people say they wish they could live forever. You don’t realize how stressful it is. I know you hear this tons of times from vampire tales and all that jazz, but it really is a painful journey. No amount of anger management courses can help me with this pure anger and stress I feel at times. So I deal with it in my own manner. I’m working tonight, the late shift. Avery’s Tattoo parlor is in between two bars and is right in the down town area near the pizza shop. So tonight will be nothing more than a drunk tattoo spree. I couldn’t tell you how many people coming in here claiming to be oh so in love and get names tattooed on them…but it turns out to be either spelled wrong or the wrong woman/man’s name. Don’t get names tattooed Ladies and Gents. Because I guarantee within the next three weeks, you’ll be back in the tattoo chair getting a cover up.

         I’m sitting here watching the news. When will people learn the world is not just black and white. The human brain cannot comprehend what is all out there. We aren’t meant to know everything. Stop bitching about religion and politics and smell the flowers asshole. It’s times like this where I remember Morty. Morty Ives, my lover in 1925. Asshole made me swim with the fishes after our child was born. All because it wasn’t a son. It was a calm night in 1925. I was coming home with Betsy Murr from the new picture. Morty was waiting for me at the usual corner. He didn’t like to show his face. Pigs would be all over him. Our daughter, Linda Mae, was in his arms. She looked like she was sleeping. AS if she was just rocked into a slumber. Morty smiled at me and took me out to Denver’s Pond just a little bit out of town. At first, I objected. The cool night air could be too cold for Linda Mae. Morty insisted. When we arrived, his smile faded. An evil came over his straight face. Two male figures approached us out of the dark. Morty looked at me. “Annabel Lee… I believe you promised me a son as our first born. And since you’ve broken a promise…” He dropped Linda Mae on the ground. She was stone cold dead. I let out a cry and then a scream. “Morty! How could you do this?! To our child!” He smacked me across the face and snickered. “Devil Woman!” He proclaimed before having his two goons tie me up and gag me. “Devil woman! Gave me a devil child!” He sent me to drown… my demise… all the while screaming that I was a devil woman with a devil child. His chant were the final words I heard.

      Once Annabel died, my soul found a new host. A woman who found Annabel’s body. Yep. I found my own dead corpse. And I was allowed to do my duty as a responsible citizen to get Morty Ives and the Goons locked up until their dying day. Mother flippin’ Justice! How about them apples? Morty, I hope you never rest in peace. More like resting in pieces.

                    I made it to Avery’s Tattoo Parlor on time. Some rather large woman was pulling down her pants to get a tramp stamp of a butterfly. Poor Avery. I sat down at the front desk to help some customers. Tonight shall be interesting.

– End Part One-

© Mercy Desdemona 2013

“Tune In” next Friday at 11:00PM for the Next “Episode”.

Comment below with your feedback and get a chance to have your blog mentioned at the end of one of our videos!

= Mercy Desdemona =

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5 Things Missing in Movies

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Dear Creeps,

I think it’s been awhile since I did any sort of thing like this. So here we go. Today we’re going to talk about what I think is missing in films. Ready? Here we go:

 

  1. Story line:  A good and well thought out story line is needed in anything. It’s pretty much missing from every genre of film except documentary. All you really see now is boobs and how people party to hard. Where are all the good story lines?
  2. Emotion: Emotion is a big one and ties into story line. When the emotion isn’t there, how can the audience get entranced? How can we feel the chills? Or question? Or wonder?
  3. Psychological Touch: This is more towards the horror/mystery genre. We are definitely missing the psychological touch. At the end of said films, I want to actually feel scared. I want to question if it’s reality or fantasy. I want a total mind fuck to be honest!
  4. Scenery: Everything is all computers and HD. The HD ruins the mood for horror films a lot, because there’s no longer rough quality to distort the scenery behind it. Also, with all the special effects, it doesn’t feel like a movie at all, but a video game. Instead of always using Blue for horror, Yellow/orange for adventure, why not use scenery and actually bring the people into the film?
  5. Actors & Actresses: Let’s face it, with the whole over doing special effects thing, people don’t really need to even act anymore. They don’t need to try to tell a story – because it’s not there. They don’t need to show emotion – because it’s not there. All the “movies” really are now are a bunch of pixel effects that look like shit. What happened to actors and actresses? Stunt men?! Where did it all go?!

I hope you enjoyed this list. More to come in a future Unsuccessful Entertainment video.

 

– Mercy

Writing

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Dear Creeps,

One of my favorite hobbies is writing short stories. I’ve always enjoyed those televisions shows where they would tell a tale you could get lost in. When I was a young girl, I would write to my hearts desire and even compose music soundtracks for the story I was writing! My love for writing is #2 on my list of loves as Music shall always be my #1. I received a few Creeper questions via Facebook, deviantart and Youtube that I’d like to answer here.

What type of stories do you usually write?

– I enjoy writing stories that could be placed within the Gothic category but also psychological horror. I do have a few Science Fiction short stories as well.

Do you outline your stories or just write?

– This depends. If it was for an assignment I would outline. If it’s for myself, I just write and then analyze.

What is the earliest story you remember writing?

– Let’s see — I was 10 sitting in my grandparents house for a visit. I had a notebook and composed a tale that took place in the early 1900s. It was about a young girl named, Rebecca, who was trying to find the truth of paranormal activity.

What’s the first story you received feedback?

– The Girl. I wrote it for a school English project and put it on Deviantart. Re-reading it now, I see all the errors and I’m in the process of re-writing it.

Thanks for the little questions. I’m off now to consume a dinner.

– Mercy

Wilderness

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One with the wilderness.

Since one was young.

Nature’s beautiful song.

 

As we have aged.

Emotion’s decayed.

Man as cold as ice.

 

What once was our friend.

Now enemy.

Nature’s haunting cry.

 

Freedom of thought.

Endless dreaming.

Fresh world at fingertips.

 

Oh to be young again.

Oh to be free again.

From these emotionless chains.

 

Years have gone by.

I now lay in decay.

Beneath fresh fallen leaves.

I lay in decay

unable to take

the person I had become.

 

© Mercy Desdemona 2013

Writing

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Hello Creeps.

I’d like to take the time out to talk about how I feel towards people that leave rude comments about a piece of work I have written or that bring about questions and concerns. 

This means that I am doing my job as a writer to stir emotions deep within you. To cause you to think, to cause you to question. 

Sure, you may be pissed at a piece of work of mine or hate that I brought out an emotion in you one of which, you’d love to keep hidden from the world. 

But it means I’m doing my job.