- Joined
- Jun 20, 2019
Could someone with greater creative writing ability than I please do a piece on Lucas dying and discovering that God in fact is real and describe his judgement?
AI pics for inspiration
AI pics for inspiration
Horrorcow Lucas Werner - A man of Spokane, Washington who is obsessed with millennial and Gen Z chicks
- Thread starter SpacePanther
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WonderWino
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Dec 17, 2019
The way I see it if there is some kind of afterlife lucas's possibilities for his narrow down to a handful of possibilities:
1. Christian hell
2. The ferengi afterlife - the vault of eternal destitution, which to be fair isn't a whole lot different from what his life is like now
3. His own pah-wraith personal hell - lucas will be placed in his own personal hell for eternity. Probably experiencing it as being back in 1998, stuck living on the frozen streets of spokane with cyril and dan campbell as his hobo roommates, constantly starving to death but never actually dying, always surrounded by zoomer baes who are dating flatbills and greybeards but who only point and laugh at him and call him a creep, always trying to call his mother on his shitty cell phone to beg for help getting out of it only to be told its not in the cards for her to get him off the streets and having to experience what it is like to be himself as a roommate by having cyril and dan be as unwashed and shitty to him as he is to everyone else, and having it always be one day away from his tugboat arriving while cyril rakes in the cash and stuffs himself with food right in front of lucas, only sharing weed that doesn't get him high or do anything for lucas except makes him hungrier and makes him constantly shit himself
4. Cursed to walk the earth jacob marley style, watching the elk kingdom go this brothers, zoomers get swooped left and right and not being able to do anything, interact with anything or be seen or heard, left to go utterly insane and wander the woods of spokane nightly, where the city dumped his ashes
5. A horrifying afterlife where he is forced to relive his most hated memories over and over again for all eternity, while being constantly reminded by his own mother that its all recorded for the world to see on kiwifarms
6. Being forced to walk the earth for all eternity until he finds the party he could never find in life (which doesn't actually exist so he'll be wandering forever)
7. Being reincarnated as a hideously ugly woman in saudi arabia or some shithole in africa and be forced to marry a saudi/african version of himself when he was alive and be everything he wanted a zoomer bae to be for him
That said, holy shit that one pic looks exactly like how I would expect lucas to waddle into hell. Same hair, obese body and weird walk. The caption could be the wern waddles into eternity
That one is eerie at how accurate the AI got it. You can just feel the seething anger in him and know he's about to give one last screaming rant at god for not yeeting him a bae and about how much of an atheist he is
Fatal Walter
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Oct 23, 2019
I'm gonna just remember better times, I think. Happy (late) birthday, Wern!
- Joined
- Jun 20, 2019
My friend, you have satisfied me immensely with your pantheistic examples of how The Wern might embrace eternity
- Joined
- Jun 25, 2013
Lucas is a living ghost, a phantom who haunts fertile Gen Z baes, just as he is haunted by ghastly desires. No. 6 is a fitting end. Fine work!
I imagine it more like "An Inhabitant of Caracosa," and will never get around to writing it. Lucas wonders the cold and lonely night in search of "the party," only to realize he's dead once he finds it. A bitter, impotent spectre watching the living enjoy themselves isn't too far off from Lucas's experience.
WonderWino
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Dec 17, 2019
Theres also cursed to walk the earth until wound is completed in full, which will inevitably become a document lost to history and never be completed, and a monkey paw last wish where lucas has himself cremated to be turned into an artificial diamond that would be worn by a zoomer bae....which it would be.....except it would be a male zoomer bae in a gay relationship so lucas would spend eternity as a diamond ring on some gay guys hand while he gives handjobs and ends up covered in gay loads constantly....or while cursed to spend eternity stalking the woods of spokane, in a century or two the woods get repurposed by the city of spokane and a gay strip club is built there so he spends a few centuries trapped walking the halls of the VIP room in the most degenerate gay strip club in the western US and watch all the degeneracy until he goes mad
Though having the area repurposed as a high end restaurant and lucas be forced to watch people eat his favorite foods for eternity would be fitting as well
If lucas gets buried, given the climate I can absolutely see lucas ending up as one of those mummies that end up becoming essentially a mummified bar of corpse soap because of all the fat in their bodies, getting dug up a few hundred years later and put on display in some museum of oddities as an example of a morbidly obese monstrosity that became the worlds largest human bar of soap - he would become the one thing he never used in life - an epic fuck you from god. Gawked at in death as he was in life
- Joined
- Dec 28, 2014
Facts not in evidence.
neutral grandpa
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Jun 14, 2020
Lucas and frankly most of the lolcows havent done much in a while. Chris chan will be in jail until at least next August as well. Im glad this site is back up but the people we monitor are more boring then ever currently
Yeah, but she also hasn’t posted anything about his death, which makes me think he’s for sure still alive. I think Myrna’s Facebook is a very good indication of whether Lucas is dead or in REALLY bad shape health wise — we all know how she is, if her precious beautiful perfect baby boy died or was in real danger, you bet your ass she would be telling the world.
WonderWino
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Dec 17, 2019
Myrna is almost as big of an idiot as lucas is and lucas lies through his teeth about his health. She would only know he was in seriously bad condition if he told her such, and he wouldn't. Not to mention he's too stupid and in denial to recognize such things himself. The fact dialysis came up at all indicates he's in seriously bad health
In short, I wouldn't expect her to say shit about the state of his health, and as for his death it would take some time before she was made aware of it herself. Not that I expect him to be dead at this point, i'm leaning heavily toward something set him off and he got himself committed again
- Joined
- Oct 27, 2018
Very true about Lucas's health. I seriously doubt Myrna speaks to Lucas at all anymore. Probably did not call him on his birthday and probably did not send him a card or an email or anything. But if she got notification the cow was dead, she would be booo hoooing on Facebook about what a victim Lucas was and how society did not do enough to help her perfect son. All for ass pats and attention. In real life she probably would not care and would tell the coroner in Spokane County to throw her dead son in a pauper's grave.
- Joined
- Dec 16, 2019
Myrna stated she was going to Mexico after recent, life-altering health news, right? She might not be in any position to post much about him or able to really grasp it at this point, unlike sharing a random post on FB.
- Joined
- Jun 20, 2019
Lucas opened his eyes. He had only just been falling asleep in his apartment after feeling unwell for some time. But instead of awaking in his room on the usual bare mattress and in his batman pantaloons, Luke instead found himself in a dimly lit tunnel. The walls were lined with dry porous rock. Ahead of him lay a dim red light far in the distance.
Confused, yet also for some reason feeling a sense of dread, Lucas began waddling slowly down the tunnel. The ground was unpleasantly rough and warm to his bare, diabetic feet. Oddly, as he continued down the tunnel, his sense of dread increased, feeling like an icy knife on his heart.
“It’s ok,” he said to himself, “this is just a dream… maybe I’ll find a hot zoomer bae like in my other dreams!”
While most likely a carrion comfort in the scope of his growing terror, this is not an unreasonable thought, for dreams were the only place where Luke could escape and satisfy his desires, and with his health as it had been after the last few months, strange dreams indeed had come to him in the early stages of the night.
Just as he thought his terror had reached his peak, Lucas suddenly found the end of the tunnel. Like the gaping maw of giant behemoth the tunnel widened, the entrance broadening out into a wider room. Seated at a grey stone desk was an old man with a long grey beard. His gnarled fingers were clasped around an ancient looking quill, which in turn rested on a thick vellum book.
“Ahh” said the peculiar man, in a voice much deeper and full of vigour than his appearance might suggest, “You are here at last, Lucas. Not quite as late as could have been achieved, yet no later indeed than expected given your…. proclivities” during that moment’s pause, the man opened his mouth to run his tongue across his teeth. The tongue in question was black and at least two times longer than what would be considered normal. The teeth were yellow and jagged, almost fang-like.
Lucas was beginning to panic. This was unlike any dream he had experienced before,
“Who are you? Where am I?” he asked. His fists were clenched as a sign of defiance as he sought to seek dominance over the telemere-attrited elder. Lucas had to strain his neck to look up at the desk, as it came to his realisation that both the elder and his desk were at least two times larger than to be expected.
The old man laughed… a high pitched, hyena like cackle that feels like nails on a chalkboard to Lucas’s ears,
“Well think for yourself, Lucas my dear boy… where do you are?”
Lucas, being a man of science, took the moment to take in his surroundings and called on all his worldly knowledge to take stock of his situation. If indeed this was not a dream, where in fact was he? The recent turn of events could seem to the untrained eye but Lucas, being an atheist, knew such things were imaginary. He therefore elected to remain silent, his gaping mouth exaggerating his many chins to give the appearance of a yawning frog.
The seated man, in response to Lucas’s muteness, briefly rested the quill, leaning back in his chair and clasping his fingers,
“Lucas, Lucas, Lucas…. you knew this time was coming”, he said, inclining his head to the side in a sign of bemusement, as if gently scolding a child in error.
The penny dropped. Lucas’s sense of dread quickly turned to one of shock and much, much deeper terror,
“No… no!” he mouthed. It was impossible. Dead? Lucas was in his prime. 42 years old and in his prime, his birthday steadily approaching, with so much potential left in him… it simply didn’t make sense! Sure, he reasoned, I was feeling sick for the last few days, but my strong telmoeres would have protected me!
The old man, as if divining the deepest recesses of Lucas’s thoughts at this moment, continued to speak in his bemused tone,
“Yes, yes… I’m afraid that you passed away in your sleep at approximately eleven in the evening. As we speak you lie there alone. It will likely be a matter of days or even weeks until they find you but yet..” and with this pause the old man’s eyes briefly flashed with a cold, blue light, “We have work that needs to be done..”
“I.. I don’t believe you, you bigot!” Lucas erupted! He stomped his feet in anger. The gaul this old greybeard had to suggest that he, an otherwise healthy, virile man that had so much to give the world, could possibly have died.
“Well then,” the old man said leaning forward, his gnarled hands remaining clasped, “As you yourself say… evidence is required?” With this statement, the man nodded to over Lucas’s shoulder. Lucas turned slowly, his surrounding environment blending away in a dream-like transition to reveal his own bedroom.
There, laying on the bed in front of him, was himself. Unclothed with the exception of some filthy Batman pantaloonies, his body lay prostrate. A dirty blanket with a wolf graphic on it was draped over his leg, doing a poor job to conceal the cankers and ulcers that peppered his thighs and torso. His eyes were open and staring but starting to cloud, a blank expression rested on his face, as his gaping mouth oozed a small trail of vomit which he had clearly aspirated in his sleep. His skin, yellowed from jaundice, strained at the sheer bloat of his body; sure to bloat much further in the coming days.
Lucas beheld this spectacle with a sense of impending doom. He turned away, maybe in disgust or perhaps as a means to seek escape from the terrible scene. However, he merely found himself standing once again in the cavern, facing the old man at the desk. The man faced him with a somewhat sterner impression.
“So, Lucas” he said, raising an eyebrow, “Was that enough evidence for you?”
“F-fuck you bigot!” Lucas stammered, a sense of doom settling deep in his rotund gut. For the first time since he tried to sexually exploit the young women at his old residence, Lucas was panicking, “This isn’t real… God isn’t real!”
At this, the old man threw his head back and let out a deep, malicious laugh. Once he finally regained his composure, the elder assumed a much more serious countenance,
“Oh Lucas, let me assure you that God most certainly is very real indeed. But don’t believe for a second that a sinner as prolific as you warrant his attention. After all, you have already been in receipt of his judgement. I am merely here to impart it upon you.”
He reached a gnarled finger down to the book resting upon the desk, casting it across the pages while gently tutting to himself,
“Goodness me Lucas… gluttony, sloth, lust, pride, envy, wrath, greed… you’ve really ticked all the boxes. Normally I would assign a specific punishment for the primary, over-arching sin. However in your case Mr Werner, despite all the advantages and love you received in childhood, it seems you really did your best to commit all of them in equal measure.”
Lucas’s blood run cold, “Punishment?”
“Oh yes, punishment. You are damned Lucas, for all eternity. You were entirely unrepentant and remain so, if I am not led to believe”. The ancient one picked up his quill once more, tapping it to his lip in thought briefly before writing upon the vellum text, “Yes, your suffering will be eternal… everlasting. I am assigning to you a series of punishments that will worsen exponentially throughout infinity.
I know the concept of infinity is something which escapes one of your intellect, given your misadventures into academia of late.. but the gravity of your crimes against nature will become apparent after a few million years of agony; a million years which, in the unending and ever-worsening nature of your suffering, will feel like a happy memory.”
“No…. no!” Lucas cried… “Noooooooooooooooo!”
Epilogue:
Ten thousand years later, Lucas sits in his own private room in hell. The chamber is modest and bare, yet he is never alone. The young, virginal whores that he had pined after were ever there, prostrating themselves seductively before him. Yet oddly when he had time to reflect – and in Hell, reflection is the closest thing to a luxury – it dawned on him that they were his greatest torture of all.
Over the millennia Lucas had been flayed alive countless times, raped with barbed wire, burned, melted, eviscerated, roasted on a spit, his eyes slit with razor blade and his genitals garnished with needles. Yet agonising as these were, his main punishment remained the women. The females were forever out of reach, dancing, laughing at him and, every once in a while, ducking behind a screen where they were violated by demons wearing flat billed caps.
This is not the end of Lucas’s tale, merely the beginning.
Confused, yet also for some reason feeling a sense of dread, Lucas began waddling slowly down the tunnel. The ground was unpleasantly rough and warm to his bare, diabetic feet. Oddly, as he continued down the tunnel, his sense of dread increased, feeling like an icy knife on his heart.
“It’s ok,” he said to himself, “this is just a dream… maybe I’ll find a hot zoomer bae like in my other dreams!”
While most likely a carrion comfort in the scope of his growing terror, this is not an unreasonable thought, for dreams were the only place where Luke could escape and satisfy his desires, and with his health as it had been after the last few months, strange dreams indeed had come to him in the early stages of the night.
Just as he thought his terror had reached his peak, Lucas suddenly found the end of the tunnel. Like the gaping maw of giant behemoth the tunnel widened, the entrance broadening out into a wider room. Seated at a grey stone desk was an old man with a long grey beard. His gnarled fingers were clasped around an ancient looking quill, which in turn rested on a thick vellum book.
“Ahh” said the peculiar man, in a voice much deeper and full of vigour than his appearance might suggest, “You are here at last, Lucas. Not quite as late as could have been achieved, yet no later indeed than expected given your…. proclivities” during that moment’s pause, the man opened his mouth to run his tongue across his teeth. The tongue in question was black and at least two times longer than what would be considered normal. The teeth were yellow and jagged, almost fang-like.
Lucas was beginning to panic. This was unlike any dream he had experienced before,
“Who are you? Where am I?” he asked. His fists were clenched as a sign of defiance as he sought to seek dominance over the telemere-attrited elder. Lucas had to strain his neck to look up at the desk, as it came to his realisation that both the elder and his desk were at least two times larger than to be expected.
The old man laughed… a high pitched, hyena like cackle that feels like nails on a chalkboard to Lucas’s ears,
“Well think for yourself, Lucas my dear boy… where do you are?”
Lucas, being a man of science, took the moment to take in his surroundings and called on all his worldly knowledge to take stock of his situation. If indeed this was not a dream, where in fact was he? The recent turn of events could seem to the untrained eye but Lucas, being an atheist, knew such things were imaginary. He therefore elected to remain silent, his gaping mouth exaggerating his many chins to give the appearance of a yawning frog.
The seated man, in response to Lucas’s muteness, briefly rested the quill, leaning back in his chair and clasping his fingers,
“Lucas, Lucas, Lucas…. you knew this time was coming”, he said, inclining his head to the side in a sign of bemusement, as if gently scolding a child in error.
The penny dropped. Lucas’s sense of dread quickly turned to one of shock and much, much deeper terror,
“No… no!” he mouthed. It was impossible. Dead? Lucas was in his prime. 42 years old and in his prime, his birthday steadily approaching, with so much potential left in him… it simply didn’t make sense! Sure, he reasoned, I was feeling sick for the last few days, but my strong telmoeres would have protected me!
The old man, as if divining the deepest recesses of Lucas’s thoughts at this moment, continued to speak in his bemused tone,
“Yes, yes… I’m afraid that you passed away in your sleep at approximately eleven in the evening. As we speak you lie there alone. It will likely be a matter of days or even weeks until they find you but yet..” and with this pause the old man’s eyes briefly flashed with a cold, blue light, “We have work that needs to be done..”
“I.. I don’t believe you, you bigot!” Lucas erupted! He stomped his feet in anger. The gaul this old greybeard had to suggest that he, an otherwise healthy, virile man that had so much to give the world, could possibly have died.
“Well then,” the old man said leaning forward, his gnarled hands remaining clasped, “As you yourself say… evidence is required?” With this statement, the man nodded to over Lucas’s shoulder. Lucas turned slowly, his surrounding environment blending away in a dream-like transition to reveal his own bedroom.
There, laying on the bed in front of him, was himself. Unclothed with the exception of some filthy Batman pantaloonies, his body lay prostrate. A dirty blanket with a wolf graphic on it was draped over his leg, doing a poor job to conceal the cankers and ulcers that peppered his thighs and torso. His eyes were open and staring but starting to cloud, a blank expression rested on his face, as his gaping mouth oozed a small trail of vomit which he had clearly aspirated in his sleep. His skin, yellowed from jaundice, strained at the sheer bloat of his body; sure to bloat much further in the coming days.
Lucas beheld this spectacle with a sense of impending doom. He turned away, maybe in disgust or perhaps as a means to seek escape from the terrible scene. However, he merely found himself standing once again in the cavern, facing the old man at the desk. The man faced him with a somewhat sterner impression.
“So, Lucas” he said, raising an eyebrow, “Was that enough evidence for you?”
“F-fuck you bigot!” Lucas stammered, a sense of doom settling deep in his rotund gut. For the first time since he tried to sexually exploit the young women at his old residence, Lucas was panicking, “This isn’t real… God isn’t real!”
At this, the old man threw his head back and let out a deep, malicious laugh. Once he finally regained his composure, the elder assumed a much more serious countenance,
“Oh Lucas, let me assure you that God most certainly is very real indeed. But don’t believe for a second that a sinner as prolific as you warrant his attention. After all, you have already been in receipt of his judgement. I am merely here to impart it upon you.”
He reached a gnarled finger down to the book resting upon the desk, casting it across the pages while gently tutting to himself,
“Goodness me Lucas… gluttony, sloth, lust, pride, envy, wrath, greed… you’ve really ticked all the boxes. Normally I would assign a specific punishment for the primary, over-arching sin. However in your case Mr Werner, despite all the advantages and love you received in childhood, it seems you really did your best to commit all of them in equal measure.”
Lucas’s blood run cold, “Punishment?”
“Oh yes, punishment. You are damned Lucas, for all eternity. You were entirely unrepentant and remain so, if I am not led to believe”. The ancient one picked up his quill once more, tapping it to his lip in thought briefly before writing upon the vellum text, “Yes, your suffering will be eternal… everlasting. I am assigning to you a series of punishments that will worsen exponentially throughout infinity.
I know the concept of infinity is something which escapes one of your intellect, given your misadventures into academia of late.. but the gravity of your crimes against nature will become apparent after a few million years of agony; a million years which, in the unending and ever-worsening nature of your suffering, will feel like a happy memory.”
“No…. no!” Lucas cried… “Noooooooooooooooo!”
Epilogue:
Ten thousand years later, Lucas sits in his own private room in hell. The chamber is modest and bare, yet he is never alone. The young, virginal whores that he had pined after were ever there, prostrating themselves seductively before him. Yet oddly when he had time to reflect – and in Hell, reflection is the closest thing to a luxury – it dawned on him that they were his greatest torture of all.
Over the millennia Lucas had been flayed alive countless times, raped with barbed wire, burned, melted, eviscerated, roasted on a spit, his eyes slit with razor blade and his genitals garnished with needles. Yet agonising as these were, his main punishment remained the women. The females were forever out of reach, dancing, laughing at him and, every once in a while, ducking behind a screen where they were violated by demons wearing flat billed caps.
This is not the end of Lucas’s tale, merely the beginning.
Last edited by a moderator:
Well, she's still functional and grasps reality enough to post about her new home down in Mexico, shopping trips, the furniture they ordered, how she misses 1 of their dogs (Bella) that died etc. etc., so I'd say she is purposely not posting anything about her insane Creeper son.
Todd Weiss
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Jun 15, 2019
I'm placing money on health ailments for this prolonged absence. When you're at the point of having emergency dialysis and substituting energy drinks for water, the damage has already been done. Much like a stage-4 cirrhosis case, the prognostications aren't good: Ol' Luke bent his renal system over and went in dry, then added corn nuts and copious amounts of MSG to his red meat diet, shredding his kidneys even further. There's bodily pain, round-the-clock fatigue and a lethal blood infection and/or cardiac event on the horizon, the likes of which exceptional telomerase can't ward off.
Al from Dadeville
Please expect my motion for sanctions forthvoming.
True & Honest Fan
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Jul 20, 2019
Patrick Tomlinson seems to be ramping up
- Joined
- Aug 13, 2022
Meanwhile in the feywilde the original Lucas Colby Werner is living it up with his adoptive ogre family (his mom switched him for her own retarded infant son in the dead of night). Although slight of stature and narrow of jaw no one disses his heritage because he's the only tribe member with delicate enough fingers to operate firearms.
WonderWino
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Dec 17, 2019
That sounds like the beginning of a horrifying version of planescape torment with lucas as the nameless oneBowlOfDick said:
Al from Dadeville
Please expect my motion for sanctions forthvoming.
True & Honest Fan
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Jul 20, 2019
- Joined
- Apr 15, 2019