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About Varied / Hobbyist Member Elizabeth and LillyFemale/United States Group :icondw-50th-project: DW-50th-project
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The Twelfth by AlessiaPelonzi

First off, this is a brilliant piece of work you have here, and I congratulate you; excellent job! What I particularly love about this ...


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NOTE: I will always take suggestions but I'll only draw/ write them if I feel like it. To be honest, I'll be more likely to respond to a writing request because I am more often inspired to write and feel that I'm better at it~

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Whovian178's Profile Picture
Elizabeth and Lilly
Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
United States
Hello, and welcome. I'm Elizabeth, but some of my friends call me Ace, Whovian, Steak, and Scotty. I am the main administrator of this blog, but I share it with my friend, Lilly. You are always welcome to talk to me about anything, so don't hesitate to message me or anything like that. As far as the arts go, I mostly write, do photography, and while I use to draw a lot, I don't do that as much anymore. Writing is my greatest passion, and I hope to become a writer someday. I am (usually) open for requests or point commissions, but you can always look at my donations box, and there you'll find what I will and won't do. I will always take suggestions, but I'll only draw/ write them if I feel like it. To be honest, I'll be more likely to respond to a writing request because I am more often inspired to write and feel that I'm better at it~
If you want to know more about me, check out my Tumblr. I have a link on there that has a full description all about me. Thanks for reading, fellow deviants! :devart:

Some awesome people that I have come to know as friends:
:iconlpeebles: :iconredoctoberrising: :iconjessie-zacharia: :iconhamilljoker: :iconcrashmypartyhard: :iconsto04084071: :iconovolox: :iconsonikkuruzu: :iconcarryphoenix: :icondreamsphereinc: :iconyokufire5: :iconcrazyartist12: :iconcrazyartist11: :iconanimechibi21:

What Doctor Are You Most Like?
What Doctor Are You Most Like?
Hosted By Anime

My birthday badge


:iconpetercapaldiplz: "Come the fuck in or fuck the fuck off!"

:icondoctordanceplz: :iconsuperw00tplz: :iconstartrekplz:

Hello Internet People! My name is Lilly and I am ever delighted to make your acquaintance. As you probably already know, I will be posting my artwork here on my best friend Elizabeth's page. Hope you all like it! Okay, ummm, so an artist I like. The forever awesome :iconburdge:. She inspires me sooooo much. Well, I don't really have many hobbies, but as you know I love to draw…um, I play three instruments, and I play volleyball. As for the art I do, it's mostly traditional, but I love trying out new things all the time. Also, I LOVE to read. If you don't believe me, ask Elizabeth. Books consume my life, but I wouldn't have it any other way! And, for a little bit about me, my friends say that I'm hilariously happy all the time, and they call me the eternal optimist. I don't know where they get that from, but oh well! I'm just another fangirl that loves being me.

Journal History

  • Mood: Big Grin
  • Listening to: American Idiot- Green Day
  • Reading: Hitler's Secret
  • Watching: Parks and Recreation
  • Playing: Pokemon Emerald
  • Drinking: Water
Got this from :iconkorealchemist: :D

You can tell a lot about someone by the music they listen to.

Hit shuffle on your iPod/iTunes/media player and then write the first ten songs. 
Next pass it on to ten people! (whiiiich I never do so you know the drill)

  1. Time Warp- The Rocky Horror Picture Show
  2. S.O.S- ABBA
  3. Just Give Me a Reason- P!nk & Nate Reuss
  4. Stubborn Love- The Lumineers
  5. I Wanna Be Sedated- The Ramones
  6. I'm Gonna Love You Too- Blondie
  7. One Way or Another- Blondie
  8. Here Comes the Sun- The Beatles
  9. Why Do Fools Fall In Love- Frankie Lymon & The Teenagers
  10. Richard Cory- Simon and Garfunkel
I was going to be very surprised if I didn't get a single Beatles song. I have A LOT of the Beatles. Kind of surprised I didn't get any Green Day, though.
And today at lunch my friend accidentally called Simon and Garfunkel... Simon and Guitarfunkel. I laughed way too hard and she hit me in the head with a water bottle.


Buizel- Sketch by Whovian178
Buizel- Sketch
Dug up my old Pokemon guides for reference and sketched up an old favorite- Buizel. I'll probably end up making some finishing touches and coloring him later~
PS. My scanner didn't cut off the tail; I have a horrible tenancy to draw things right in the middle of the page and forget about whatever might hang off the paper later on. Oops. And if you look carefully, you can see where I didn't fully erase my beginning sketch lines because I wasn't careful enough. Double oops :P That's why this is a sketch though, right?
Good News: My dad is finally letting me use his scanner, and I actually figured out how to use it! Yay, no more bad-quality pictures of drawings!
  • Mood: Big Grin
  • Listening to: American Idiot- Green Day
  • Reading: Hitler's Secret
  • Watching: Parks and Recreation
  • Playing: Pokemon Emerald
  • Drinking: Water
Got this from :iconkorealchemist: :D

You can tell a lot about someone by the music they listen to.

Hit shuffle on your iPod/iTunes/media player and then write the first ten songs. 
Next pass it on to ten people! (whiiiich I never do so you know the drill)

  1. Time Warp- The Rocky Horror Picture Show
  2. S.O.S- ABBA
  3. Just Give Me a Reason- P!nk & Nate Reuss
  4. Stubborn Love- The Lumineers
  5. I Wanna Be Sedated- The Ramones
  6. I'm Gonna Love You Too- Blondie
  7. One Way or Another- Blondie
  8. Here Comes the Sun- The Beatles
  9. Why Do Fools Fall In Love- Frankie Lymon & The Teenagers
  10. Richard Cory- Simon and Garfunkel
I was going to be very surprised if I didn't get a single Beatles song. I have A LOT of the Beatles. Kind of surprised I didn't get any Green Day, though.
And today at lunch my friend accidentally called Simon and Garfunkel... Simon and Guitarfunkel. I laughed way too hard and she hit me in the head with a water bottle.
    THE TARDIS landed with a gentle thud in front of a giant obelisk-like monument. “Doctor, are you sure you set the coordinates correctly?” Jo asked as she peered out of the blue doors.

     “Of course I did!” he said from inside. “I’m absolutely sure that I’ve gotten it right this time. After all of that nonsense with that miniscope on Inter Minor, I was more than careful this time.

    Jo stepped out and threw her hands on her hips and muttered, “Well, this isn’t exactly how I had pictured Metebelis Three to look like.”

    “Well, of course it’s not what you thought it would look like. You have never been here befo-” The Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS himself. Jo noticed that he was wearing his cape. She actually liked how it looked on him, even though she had never said anything about it. “Well. This isn’t Metebelis Three, that’s for sure. It looks like…” The Doctor turned to face the large obelisk in front of them. “Ah! This is the Bunker Hill Monument.”

    “Oh. So we’re in Boston, then,” Jo said, starting to relax a bit. She didn’t want a repeat of last time’s terrible dilemma with the Drashigs.

    “Well, yes, but it isn’t 1973. We seem to be in the future!” The Doctor looked over at Jo. He knew that look… “Now, Jo, it isn’t good to know too much about the future…”

    “Oh, but Doctor, it’s just Boston! I’ve never been to Boston before! Can’t we just take a look around?” Jo gave the Doctor her puppy eyes. “Aren’t you the slightest bit curious?” The Doctor thought that this was starting to sound a bit too much like last time for his liking.

    “Jo, get in the TARDIS. Now. We’re going to Metebelis Three.”

    “Doctor, I want to take a look around!” Jo argued. The Doctor wasn’t going to admit that he was just a little bit curious about what time they had landed in.

    “Well…” he paused, trying to decide for a second. “Alright. I just want to find out what time period this is, and then we’ll leave.” Jo grinned from ear to ear and started pulling the Doctor in one direction. “Wait, Jo! Do you even know where you’re going?” the Doctor was actually about to head in the opposite direction until Jo had pulled him the other way.

    “Yeah,” she replied, “I wanted to check out that airport over there.” She stopped and pointed to it. It didn’t look too far away.

    “Why, exactly, did you want to see the airport?” the Doctor said with a slightly confused expression on his face.

    “Well, I wanted to see what a future airport was like,” Jo replied. “They must have made some impressive advances in technology, right?” The Doctor sighed. All he wanted to do was find out how far off he had set the coordinates and get out of there, but he still wanted Jo to at least somewhat enjoy it.

    “They probably have,” the Doctor said, finally giving in. “I guess we could go take a look for a second.” He started walking in the direction of the airport while Jo followed closely behind him. The airport building was huge and almost alien to Jo. It was just so much different! She could barely contain her excitement and her curiosity. When they arrived, the Doctor pushed open the doors and held them open for Jo. As she slowly walked in, she gasped, trying to take in all of the modern sights and technology around her. The airport was full of people waiting for their flights. There was a large digital board on the far wall that displayed flight numbers, times, etcetera. The Doctor let Jo wander around a bit as he tried to determine the year.  “Well, the security is pretty good but not as good as it would become after-”

    “Doctor!” Jo said as she ran up to him, making him lose his train of thought. “Who are those men?” The Doctor stole a glance without staring at them. There were six Arab men sitting along the wall, probably waiting for their flight.

    “They’re just some Arab men waiting for their flight. Just because they’re probably from the Middle East doesn’t mean that they mean any harm.”

    “I don’t like it, Doctor. They just seem really suspicious,” Jo sighed. “Maybe we could just follow them around a little and see which flight that they’re on.”

    “Now, Jo, that would be called stalking. We can’t just go around stalking random people just because they aren’t from around here. Remember, we aren’t from around here, either! We are at an American airport! The Logan Airport in Boston, to be exact.”

    “But these aren’t just random people! Doctor-”

    “Jo!” the Doctor interrupted, “We’ve already gotten farther from the TARDIS than I would have liked, and I don’t plan on getting any farther away! I just wanted to find today’s date-”

    “Why are you so interested in the date?!” said Jo, who was losing her patience. The Doctor wasn’t going to have much patience left after this argument, either.

    “I want to see how far off I was when I set the coordinates!” he shot back at her. Before the Doctor could say anything else, Jo knew that she wouldn’t win this argument, so she did the only thing that she could: she took off in the opposite direction. The Doctor was taken by surprise by this, but he knew that he would have to start chasing her. “Jo, stop!” Suddenly, the six Arab men stood up and headed in the direction of the security check. Jo caught up with them, and slowly started to follow behind. The Doctor seemed to have been lost in the crowd. The Arabs came up to the security check. Jo just hoped that they wouldn’t ask her for her ticket… yet. After she passed the security check, she planned on pick-pocketing one of the Arabs. As she continued to follow closely behind them, she saw that they were close to their flight. The Arabs stopped to get their tickets out, but, just as Jo knew would happen, one of them couldn’t find their ticket. She had already taken it.

    To Jo’s surprise, one of the men simply stayed behind while the others went onto the plane. That just didn’t make any sense to her. “I knew that there was something strange about those men,” Jo thought to herself. Now she couldn’t wait to tell the Doctor “I told you so” later on. The Arabs got on the plane, and so did Jo. She somehow knew that the Doctor would catch up soon. He always did. Jo sat down as far away from the five men as possible and made herself comfortable. There were many other passengers on the plane besides the five men. Jo decided to finally take a look at her ticket. It turned out she was on Flight 11. Their destination was- Los Angeles, California?! Jo almost got up and left after that, but of course, the Doctor walked in right at that moment.

    “Jo!” he almost shouted quite loudly in front of all of the other passengers. “What were you
thinking?! I had to buy a ticket and-”

    “Doctor,” Jo whispered, “There is something strange about those men! I snatched one of their tickets to get on and the others simply left one of the men behind!”

    “Well, I suppose that is a little strange… Wait, you did WHAT?”

    Then, a voice came on over the intercom of the plane, saying, “The plane is preparing for take-off. Please fasten your seatbelts.” Jo did fasten her seatbelt, but the Doctor just sat there. He turned his head slowly towards her to look at her.

    “Jo,” he said quietly, “Did you ever think about how we are going to get back to Boston?”

    “Well, I assumed that you would buy the tickets for us to get back.”

    “It costs a lot more money to get flight tickets in this period of time! I spent almost all of my money just paying for my first ticket! All the rest of my money is back at the TARDIS!” the Doctor almost shouted as Jo’s eyes grew wide with realization. Then, the plane took off. It was only 7:59 am (in this time period), and Jo and the Doctor were already in a huge heap of trouble.

    “What are we going to do?” Jo said, starting to panic. The Doctor had absolutely no idea.

    “Well, there’s nothing we can do at the moment. We’ll have to wait until we get to Vegas.”

    “Maybe we’ll win some big money at a casino,” Jo murmured sarcastically. The Doctor couldn’t help but smile at this. They both knew that it would be a long trip. Jo soon fell asleep, and the Doctor sat there, thinking about the terrible demise that he had gotten them into this time. Sure, Jo was the one who ran onto the plane and stole a ticket from an Arab, but it was him who had given into taking her to the airport in the first place. He couldn’t help feeling a little guilty. Then, the Doctor started to slowly doze off, too. As he was falling asleep, he realized that Flight 11 sounded quite a bit familiar. Maybe he had been on another Flight 11 before.

    Suddenly, the Doctor woke up as he heard the sound of people screaming. His eyes bolted open only to find a sharp box cutter pointed at his own chest. The Doctor slowly stood up and saw that the man was one of the five Arabs. He looked to his left and saw Jo standing up with another knife at her throat. Most of the other passengers were being held back in the corner by two of the other men. The Doctor knew that it was a good thing that he could speak Arabic.

    “What is this?!”  He demanded with a perfect accent and everything. Jo looked surprised, and so did the Arab, even.

    “This plane is ours, now. So be a good little hostage and empty out your pockets.”  

    “Empty out your pockets, Jo,” the Doctor told her.

    They did, but before the Arab threw them across the aisle and onto the other seat, the Doctor asked, “Before you take that, could you hold up one of the tickets for me to read for a second? I swear to Allah that I won’t try to pull anything.”  

    The Doctor put his hands above his head and nodded in Jo’s direction as if to tell her to do the same. She did, and the Arab reluctantly held up one of the tickets while keeping the knife at the Doctor’s throat. The other Arab took Jo and shoved her into the corner of the plane with the rest of the passengers. The Doctor skipped most of the information on the crumpled up ticket until he found exactly what he had been looking for all along: the date. The Doctor’s eyes slowly grew even wider with fear, if that was even possible when you were on an airplane with a terrorist pointing a knife at you. He felt himself start shaking, even. He had a very good reason to, too. The date on the ticket read November 11, 2001. The Doctor and Jo were caught up right in the middle of the hijacking of one of the planes that was going to crash into the World Trade Center at any moment. This was 9/11.
A Day That Shook the World- Part 1
Well, there you have it. We were talking about 9/11 in class a couple days ago, so I was inspired to write this.

Part 2:…
Part 3:…

EDIT: Made a cool new cover image for this :)
George Peterson was walking through Chicago one fine day in Autumn. The sounds of the bustling city surrounded him, and it made him slightly uncomfortable. George didn’t know why he lived in the city when he hated the loud sounds of cars and people. In fact, if he didn’t have somewhere to be, George would much rather just stay at home and read or get some work done. But, alas, he had a meeting with someone named Martha Janet. George had no idea who this lady was or what she was associated with, but he felt it was important to see her since he was a police officer, and he had gotten a letter from her asking him to meet her at her apartment because it was ‘urgent’. There was no offered explanation in the writing. Plus, even though George was a tense, unsociable man, he would have admitted that he was a little bit curious.
Luckily, the woman’s small house was only a short walk from George’s, so it didn’t take him long to find the run-down building where Martha claimed she lived. After walking up the three steps to the front door, he pressed the bell. George was sure that no one would answer at first; it would have been better that way. After waiting a minute, he almost left when suddenly the old, green door was whipped open by no one. The space in the doorframe was empty, and George was suspicious as to how a door could open so quickly on its own. It was then that he realized that he didn’t have a warrant as a police officer to come into the house, for the fourth amendment of the Constitution protected a citizen’s right to privacy. George should have left at that point. His curiosity got the best of him, however; he didn’t.
George stepped into the dark hallway in the house, and the door closed behind him. There were no lights or signs of electricity in the hall, but he did notice that there was a coat rack with a long, trench coat and a single top hat hanging from it. There were no other hats or coats in the hall. George started slowly making his way across the house, glancing around at each closed door as he went.
“H-hello, is there anybody home?” George called out timidly. He hadn’t remembered seeing a car in the driveway, so maybe there was no one in the rickety old house. He was just about to turn around and go home, but then he caught a glimpse of light emitting from the door on the far end of the hall. The door was cracked open, and the light inside was flickering like a fire. Once again, George’s curiosity got the best of him, and he didn’t leave, even though he had the vague feeling that he was in a place where he shouldn’t be.
The floorboards creaked as George walked across the hall and towards the lit room. At first, he figured the light came from a fireplace lit inside, but when he opened the door, he discovered that the brightness actually came from a series of lit candles throughout the practically empty room. There was no furniture besides a single chair in the far right corner and a couple small stools which were occupied by more candles. Lit candles seemed to fill the room, making it seem less spacious than it actually was. There were no other items clearly visible in the room, and it took a second for George to realize that there was someone sitting in the middle with their back to the door. Instead of using the chair, the person sat on the floor, Indian-style. They didn’t move, even when George took a step inside, the floorboards creaking still. He was very careful to leave the door open.
“Erm, excuse-” George began. Suddenly, the person’s head whipped around unexpectedly, scaring the shit out of him. He could now see that it was an older woman who was sitting down, and she immediately started smiling when she saw him.
“Oh, George!” the woman exclaimed, now turning her whole body to face him. “I didn’t see you come in.”
You were facing away from the door, George thought. Of course you didn’t see me come in. To avoid sounding rude, he just said, “I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t mean to startle or disturb you.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that, dear,” the woman said, standing up. “I’m so very glad you were able to come today. I’ve been awaiting your visit for years!”
“Years?” George wondered. “But I got the letter about visiting you just yesterday. And we only live two blocks away from each other.”
“Would you be kind enough to pop into the sitting-room on the ground floor and sign the book?” the woman who appeared to be Martha asked, completely ignoring his question.
“... the book? What book?” George asked again. “And this is a one-story house. All there is is the ground floor.”
“Oh, dear me, you’re right,” Martha said looking at the ceiling as if remembering that there wasn’t a floor above them. “And I’ve also come to realize that we’re already in the sitting-room.”
George looked at her, confused. “Um, what book were you wanting me to sign, and what’s it for?”
“The book in the corner, dear. On that chair,” Martha said, pointing to the darkest corner of the room. Instead of questioning her again, George walked to the small, fold over chair which was facing away from the middle of the room. He turned the chair around to find a small, dusty book sitting on the seat. Picking it up, George thought about how sad and grey it looked; it was obviously at least a decade old. He opened the front cover, only to find it empty. In fact, the whole book was empty.
“Wh... where do you want me to sign?” George asked. He noticed that he was shaking slightly, even though he couldn’t figure out why. He wasn’t exactly frightened, per se. Martha was clearly off her rocker, but he was just creeped out at the most.
“Just in the back cover will do,” Martha said. George became suddenly aware of a peculiar smell in the room. As he flipped to the back cover of the book, he realized that the room contained the clean, sanitized smell that one would find in a hospital room.
That’s a bit odd, he thought. As if everything else that had happened recently wasn’t odd. When George got to the back of the book, he was happy to find a pen laying in the cover so that he would be able to sign his name there. He uncapped the pen and attempted to sign in the back as best he could, which was hard since he was standing up and still shaking.
As soon as he took the pen off of the paper, Martha said excitedly, “Let me see!” George awkwardly handed her the book which was still open to his signature. She started studying it carefully through her pale, grey eyes. She suddenly started frowning, and a concerned look came about her face.
“Look, mam, may I ask why you wanted me to come over in the first place? You said it was urgent...” George said. However, Martha continued to analyze his signature, ignoring him yet again. He was starting to grow impatient with her. “Look, I-”
“Shhh!” Martha said, holding up one finger to shush George. Then, she flipped to the front cover of the book again and looked at it carefully, even though he remembered the cover being blank. Martha’s frown only grew wider. “Oh, no. This isn’t good at all.”
“What’s wrong?!” George said irritably. He found himself subconsciously resting his hand on his gun before removing it, ashamed that he would even think about using it in this situation.
“Your condition is only getting worse, I’m afraid...” Martha said sadly. At this point, George was able to draw the conclusion that this woman was completely insane.
“What are you even talking about?” he questioned her. “What condition?”
Martha seemed just as confused as George was. “Are you alright, George? You’re shaking horribly, and you’ve gone quite pale.” Once again, she had evaded his question. Although, she had a point; he was shaking worse than before at this point, and the blood was drained from his face.
“P-please just tell me what the hell is going on here,” George stuttered.
“Maybe it would help if you read some of the journal entries in this book, dear,” Martha said, handing it to him.
“But the p-pages are empty!”
“What do you mean?” Martha said, tilting her head now that she was even more puzzled. “Don’t you remember writing anything in here?”
“Not since you asked me to sign the back of the book!” George replied. He was starting to become quite excitable.
“Well, I know it’s been a long time since you’ve written, but I was hoping you’d remember something. This last entry is over two years old, but still!” Martha said, shoving the book closer towards him. He reluctantly accepted the book and opened it up again, expecting to find the blank pages from before. However, to his surprise, most of the book was filled with scribbles of writing and dates at the top of the pages, as if it was a diary or a journal. Then, George flipped to the front cover, only to find the name “George Peterson” inscribed neatly on the inside. He then tried flipping to the back to see what had been wrong with his previous signature, only to find a series of indistinguishable scribbles. It took him a second to realize that this had been his attempt at signing his name.
“D-does my condition happen to be Parkinson’s disease?” George asked worriedly. Martha just sighed sadly.
“Oh, if only that was the biggest problem,” she lamented. “Do you know where you are, George? Do you know what’s wrong with you?”
“I have no idea...” he said. He looked down at the book in his hands, flipping through it slowly. Words like ‘senses’, ‘accident’, and ‘help’ stood out and seemed to appear more than once in the entries. He also noticed that the handwriting inside the book was neat in the beginning, especially compared to the horrible scrawling towards the end of the book. “Did I w-write this?”
“Yes. Remember, I asked you to start keeping a journal as soon as you started staying here. You use to write in it every day, but you stopped writing as your mental stability continued to decline. The ‘Parkinson’s’ was a side-effect to your initial problem.” Martha moved closer to George, who was now sitting in the old chair. She put out one of her white hands and patted him comfortingly on the knee. “I knew that this would happen eventually.”
“WHAT ARE YOU EVEN TALKING ABOUT?” George screamed. He stood up suddenly, surprising Martha. “YOU’RE ABSOLUTELY INSANE!” A single tear dripped down the side of his face and onto a page in the book.
“No, George. You are.” Martha said as a shadow was suddenly cast over her. “You may be seeing things with your condition, but you’re sitting in your own room in Garner’s Asylum in Chicago. You’ve been here for almost seven years now, and you haven’t been the same since your girlfriend accidentally hit you with your own truck. After that, you suffered from permanent brain damage. Everything seemed fine at first, but symptoms such as Parkinson’s disease, memory loss, and hallucinations quickly followed the incident. You started hurting others, George. You killed your girlfriend by hitting her over the head with a brick. To keep you and others safe, we put you here. I’ve been searching for a cure to your supposed brain damage, and I thought things were getting better, but it seems as if you’ve completely forgotten who you are and have made up your own little reality in your head.”
The room swam as George slowly thought about everything that Martha had told him. “THAT’S BULL SHIT!” he shouted as he reached for his gun, only to find that it wasn’t there. Suddenly, his head started throbbing, and he couldn’t take the pain. George crumpled to the ground, probably screaming, even though at this point he couldn’t hear anything.
He closed his eyes for a split second, only to find that when he opened them again, he was laying in the middle of a white, dimly lit room with a large window where many people in white lab coats looked in from the other side. Martha herself was standing there, looking over at him worriedly. She picked up a walkie-talkie that was in her pocket and pressed a red button on it. “I think he’s a lost cause, Dr. Roberts,” she said into the mic.
One of the doctors beyond the window nodded sadly before speaking with a thick German accent into his own device, “We should get ready to put him down.”
“NO!” George screamed crazily as Martha dragged him to his feet and towards the only door in the room. “YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME! I’LL HAVE YOU UNDER ARREST!”
“Oh, you think you’re a police officer now, do you? That’s cute. I heard that was what you wanted to be as a kid before you became a sick alcoholic,” Martha said. George was starting to realize that she wasn’t as nice as she seemed, or maybe he was just as despicable as she was describing him as.
George finally started to calm down once he realized that him and and the doctor had gone into another empty room. There didn’t seem to be anything threatening inside. “I-is anyone else here?” he asked worriedly.
“Only you,” Martha said almost deviously just before she left him alone and locked the door behind her. George screamed again before running up to the door and pounding on it, trying to get out. But, the situation was hopeless. All that George could do was look around the practically empty room and wait for something to happen. It was then that he noticed that Martha had thrown the book from earlier across the room. He couldn't help but look through it.
It didn’t take George a long time to figure out that he hadn’t actually written anything in the book, but in fact, it was a collection of entries written by numerous people. George’s name was still written in the front and back of the book, but his name wasn’t mentioned anywhere else. There were many places, however where a series of seemingly random numbers would take the place of a name. In fact, most of the entries looked to be written in German. There were two or three written in English, however. They all talked about an experiment which was being conducted somewhere in Germany. All of the dates were within the 1940s, and the experiments that George read about made him want to throw up. Who would ever even consider doing this to someone, especially a person?! George wondered. Then, the reality of the situation hit George like a slap in the face.
“Wait, are they…” he muttered to himself. Just then, a loud, fizzing sound was heard throughout the small room as George looked up to see clouds of gas coming out of the ceiling. The fog filled the room, and it caused him to start coughing and wheezing as he fell to the ground once more. His vision slowly faded into darkness, and the last thing that George saw was a shadowy figure standing on the other side of the gas chamber.
A Failed Experiment
So, this is a short story I wrote sometime in April, I think. It was written for an English assignment, and I really enjoyed coming up with the idea and writing it out. I almost forgot how it ended after not reading it for awhile, but was quickly reminded about what a weird, twisted, and morbid mind I have.

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