… Aaaaand stick the dismount. Yes, that’s right, two Creepypasta reviews in a row. Either I like you just that much, or I really, really hate you. Probably a bit of both!
Alas, with Satan On The Muppet Show, we strayed a tad into the “unreasonable” territory, even for Creepypastas, so let’s check with something closer to reality!
… Not that it’s any more realistic, I mean, just that the category is literally called “Reality”. For a bunch of horror writers, Creepypasta writers have apparently decided that reality is something that happens to other people. The Suicide Photographer, let’s roll!
“I am a photographer.”
Gasp! Could you be… a suicide photographer?!
Yeah, kind of played your cards a bit early with that one, huh.
“People hate my work. You may ask why, but when you see my shots, you’ll understand.”
The deadliest Instagram page.
“My work is very controversial. I am sadly proud of my photos, for I may be the only one who’s adopted this style.”
Pictures of dogs in sweaters?
“I capture photos of suicide.”
That was my second guess.
“No matter where I go, I carry my camera with me, ready to shoot anything that may happen.”
I think we just explained every single found footage film ever.
“There’s surprisingly a lot of suicides in this city and the next city over. I’ve gotten beautiful shots.”
And literally all of them were duckfacing.
“The most common ones are those of people jumping from buildings.”
Ah, yes, the most common cause of death: Re-creating the opening scenes from The Incredibles.
“Of course, there’s usually a crowd of people pleading for the person to come down, so I know right away what I am about to get. I stand to get a good perspective, hold up my camera, and snap the photo right as the person plunges to their demise.”
“I take a couple one after the other so I make sure to get the perfect shot. People surrounding me shout at me and call me heartless.”
Yes, but that’s how most people talk to photographers, so don’t take it too hard.
“On the contrary, I am more caring than them.”
… You’re a special kind of stupid, huh.
“That person wanted to end their life, so they had a perfect reason to make that decision. I’m showing them support and kindness by capturing their last moments.”
My arm is not big enough for the jerk-off motion in my soul.
“However, I don’t remember the last time I smiled.”
Was it the time you watched Young Frankenstein? Because that movie rocks.
“I have a splendid dark room to develop my photos, which I pin to the walls in my house. I have pictures of jumpers, people shooting themselves, taking pills or cyanide, jumping in front of a train, people stabbing themselves, and even some more unorthodox methods.”
‘… A trombone is involved.’
“It’s funny. I can see the idea form in their heads by looking into their eyes or reading their body language. For most of the most spontaneous ones, like the shooters or the train jumpers, I kindly approach them, explain that I’m not going to stop them, and ask if I could take a picture as they commit suicide.”
Half the time, it turns out they’re not actually committing suicide, and it’s super embarrassing.
“I’ve never had someone say no. The model will even wait for my cue. I have them point the gun to their head, and give them the signal to shoot. I wait until the train is close enough as they stand there, preparing to jump, and I give them the go.”
I’d like to know how many times he screwed up, and completely missed his chance, and caught them with a really embarrassing expression.
“Some even give me their names so that I can attend the funeral and visit their grave. They ask me for a copy of the photo. I oblige, but I lock the photo in a box so no one takes it away. From below the earth, I can almost hear the faint “thank you” coming from the coffin.”
And the crazy keeps on coming. Hot and cold running neuroses.
“I couldn’t make money off my hobby. No one wanted to show my art. But I think I’ve found someone who will…”
Faces Of Death?
“It’s a suicide cult.”
“I let them know what I do, and that I myself don’t want to end my life, but they are awed by what I do. As their cult grows, so does my gallery, for now we have scheduled photo shoots. We have our own art gallery for people fascinated with suicide. I’ve even had a few non-suicidal people come in just to admire the horror.”
Oooh, “Admire The Horror”, good name for that electro-screamo-porno band I’m starting.
“I’m making money now. Capturing suicides is now my career.”
Try putting that on a resume.
“Here’s my card. Call me to schedule an appointment.”
Oh, please tell me he has a secretary, that would be the best/worst job ever.
So, that was The Suicide Photographer! How was it? Well, I’d say it made me want to kill myself if I was the witty sort- ooh, I totally should have used that on Life Of Deaths. Um, anyway, it was really good!
Nice and simple, with good word choices and an uneasy tone that sticks with you!