Happy Halloween gals and 'gals'. As happy and as safe as we can muster in the current climate anyway. I for one will be staying home dressed as an undead panda and watching something frightening with a bottle of Jack Daniel's in my decaying paw. I believe this is called Netflix and Chills.
Anyways... I am not a fan of posting old content for new clicks but one of these captions got taken down a few years back and today seemed an appropriate day to repost the series in full. I am sorry I don't have any new scary themed tg captions for you this year but I wasn't expecting to be home to post anything. I am working on new captions and have seven ready to go. Depending on how life goes in the meantime, I may start posting season 5 in December.
-Zoli-
The three ghosthunters
stood in the hallway of the abandoned mansion using their flashlights
to examine every inch of the gothic inspired room. There was a hushed
excitement among the men as they were gearing up for a night in the
last of the 'haunted' houses on soulsearchers.com's creepiest places
in the state.
'Here we go boys, we
saved the best 'til last,' cheered Gerry as he led his companions
into the most haunted living room in the state. The room was
dominated by an enormous log fireplace, a centerpiece of the
wood-lined decor and somewhere that seemed to project darkness. Gerry
turned up the power on his flashlight and aimed it above the mantle
and jumped back in fright.
'Now that's one spooky
broad,' Stephen chuckled nervously as the light illuminated a
portrait of a young woman dressed all in black apart from a china
white, harsh looking face. The stern features were sharpened further
by thick black makeup and an angular black haircut that framed them.
Her body bore an old fashioned dress under an excruciating looking
corset but most jarring of all was the way the woman in the painting
seemed so lifelike, as if she could jump out at any moment;
'Actually that's not a
'broad' at all,' exclaimed David studying the guidebook. 'It says
here that the painting is of George Hurst, only son of the house's
last owners. The legend goes that from an early age, George became
fascinated with puppets, first toys but eventually he began crafting
his own from wood. Apparently, his parents didn't understand his
hobby and thought that he was playing with dolls and when the mother
got older she went a bit mad and gave George a choice; he could
either give up his puppets of live as a girl. After that the family
became more and more reclusive and it's not really clear what
happened to them, however, it's said that anyone who stays here
leaves 'changed'.'
'Changed?' the other
men repeated together. 'Changed how?'
'It doesn't say,'
replied David, closing the book with a little frustration. 'Okay,
it's getting late, I say we pitch down here for the night. Give
Georgie some company.'
Gerry awoke with a
start, unsure of why, he glanced over to where his friends were
sleeping. Their sleeping bags lay empty. Where were they!? The sweet
scent of women's perfume filled the air and he looked around
frantically for the source, eventually fixing his eyes on the
portrait. George was gone...
A shiver ran down
Gerry's spine as he jumped to his feet and turned his flashlight to
full beam. Keeping his back to the wall, he slowly crept out of the
living room and back into the giant hall. Moonlight cast in through a
large window giving the room an eerie glow that seemed to lead Gerry
to another door on the farside of the room. Hurredly he crossed over
to opposite wall and padded through the doorway into a large study.
The study, like the
living room, had wood paneled walls and was gothic in decor and a
large oak desk stood in the center of the room. Approaching the desk,
flashlight drawn, Gerry noticed that the desk was covered in papers.
Carefully he shone the beam on one and saw that it was a sketch for a
sort of puppet design. Pictured crudely in pencil was a regal looking
woman in an armchair with puppetstrings around her wrists. He traced
the strings all the way around to the other side of the paper where
they reached a control bar held by a sketched figure looking
suspiciously like George from the living room painting. Turning the
paper back over, he noticed a word neatly written under the drawing
of the puppet.
MOM
Suddenly Gerry became
aware of some movement in the corner of the room and shone his light
over to reveal a startling sight. Sitting in a leather armchair was a
feminine figure much like the one from the drawings. Her slim figure
was encased in a short black silk dress beneath an old fashioned
women's vest and her fair hair was carefully styled under a tiny
decorative hat.
'Stephen!?' gasped
Gerry, recognising his blonde friend even under the thick layers of
makeup. The figure's raccoon-like eyes shot open and Gerry could see
an expression of helpless panic in his friend's face. He tried to
reach out to Gerry but lace binds around his wrists became tight
without warning and Stephen was posed like a puppet by an unseeable
master. Slowly his painted lips parted and gave a frantic cry of
desperation.
'BEWARE OF THE GIRL IN
THE BOX! BEWARE OF THE GIRL IN THE BOX!'
Suddenly the room was
thrown into darkness. Dammit! Gerry cursed his flashlight's poor
timing to cut out. He banged it frantically against his palm until
the beam returned before shining it back towards where his ghoulishly
feminised friend had been sitting. Stephen was gone! Shining the
light wildly around the room, Gerry searched for a sign of where he
had gone, finally finding it sticking out of the floor it the corner
of the room. A trapdoor. Cautiously with the light outstretched in
front of him, he made his way over to the gaping hole and stopped at
the edge of a sprawling wooden staircase. His heart was banging in
his chest with fear but the need to rescue his friends drove him
onwards. It was on the third step he found it, the book, a thick
leather bound cover hugging pages and pages of scrawled handwriting,
a diary. Gerry picked it up and opened it near the back...
It was a tragic tale,
one of misunderstood youth and misguided parents. George's diary told
of how his mother had gone mad and forced him to live as a girl or
give up the only thing he truly cared about, his puppets. She had
kept him locked in the basement, providing him with only scraps for
nourishment and girl's dresses for warmth while George's weakling
father did nothing to challenge his wife. Gerry flicked a few months
worth of entries forward and noted that the handwriting had started
to get seriously erratic, a few more pages passed and they started to
be signed 'Georgina', until finally Gerry reached the last page and
the final entry, 'Mother is planning to let me out tomorrow. Father
is pleased, he always wanted a daughter. I think I'm ready. I can't
wait to add them to my collection. Georgina.'
Gerry felt an icy chill
run up his spine as he placed the diary back on the step and
continued his journey down the wooden stairs. As he descended, the
ticking of a clock grew louder and he aimed his flashlight into the
gloom in search of the source. Suddenly, there was a loud chime to
his left and he spun round, almost dropping his flashlight at the
vision before him. A pale figure clad all in black was stumbling
around in front of him. Cables were tied around its wrists, pulling
upwards to somewhere above them, not allowing the figure to get a
good grip on the floor with the shiny black high-heeled pumps,
instead forcing it to thrash and kick in search of a good footing.
Gerry met its eyes, it was David, his helpless pleading gaze
screaming through raccoon eyes in the same fashion that Stephen's
had. Gerry could see the chinstrap of the wig now, streaking across
David's thickly madeup face and he became aware of the screeching of
the black latex outfit that enveloped his body as he jerked around in
desperation. David's expression turned even more fearful as the
cables seemed to take control and manipulate his movements, pulling
him up into a graceful pose that defied his horrified face. Using the
only part of his body he could still control, he called out to his
friend...
'BEWARE OF THE GIRL IN
THE BOX! BEWARE OF THE GIRL IN THE BOX!'
The light went out
again and this time it stayed out, all the banging and cursing in the
world couldn't get the flashlight back on and it hung lifeless in
Gerry's hand. He fumbled in the darkness in the direction of his
rubber clad friend but the surrounding black was so thick that he
couldn't be sure where he was going. Stumbling on, he felt the wooden
frame of a doorway in front of him and passed through
it...ooommphhh...his nose smashed against something hard. He raised
his fands to find that there was a wooden panel blocking his path.
What the hell?! As he turned to go back the way he had come, he heard
something slam behind him. Feeling with his hands, he concluded that
he had accidentally wandered into a box a little bigger than the size
of his body. The air around him began to grow clammy and Gerry could
feel a presence next to his shoulder.
'I...am the girl in the
box...apparently,' a soft voice chuckled in his ear. Gerry's skin
prickled as he realised that he had probably just found George. 'I
saw you reading my diary,' the voice sighed, 'I know you know why I'm
down here. But you know what else? Those bastards never did let me
out. They kept me down here for more than a year, and I even accepted
my fate as Georgina. I convinced myself I was their daughter because
I knew that if I were to have my revenge, I would have to be the girl
they wanted to invite back into their home. That final day, when they
told me it was enough, and that it was finally time to rejoin the
family, I thought they were going to bring me back into the house,
but instead they put me in here, forever!' Suddenly, the penny
dropped and Gerry realised that he was standing in George's coffin.
He felt like throwing up, but a waft of sweet perfume soothed his
stomach. 'After all these decades buried down here, in limbo, buried
as the girl I never wanted to be, I have been awakened and set free.
My parents are long gone now and sadly I will never avenge what they
did to me, but at least I have the next best thing. I can carry out
my plot on those that dare trespass my home and make them into the
puppets I do love so dearly. Oh Gerry, I am the girl in the box, and
now so shall you be too!' The air around Gerry began to swirl
violently, surrounding his whole body in a powerful vortex that
treatened to pull him to pieces. A deep pain rose in his skull and
just as it began to be unbearable, he mercifully passed out.
Gerry awoke to the
timeless haze of the basement. Right away he knew something was
wrong, he just felt different, like a totally different shape. He
smoothed him palms over his chest to find pale breasts heaving
beneath a red latex leotard that stretched tight around the rest of
his torso and where his crotch had once been. Uh-oh what the hell? He
tried to maneouveur out of the coffin, balancing his new thick ass
with the towering platform heels on his feet and as his eyes began to
adjust to the twilight, he spotted George standing across the
basement. He was wearing the same painful looking outfit from the
painting and was cradling something carefully in his hands.
'You look exquisite, if
I do say so myself,' the phantom smiled, holding up the puppet
control bar in his hands, 'just one final adjustment, and then we can
go play with your friends!'
In this very special
Halloween edition of Flashback Friday we catch up with Gerry, who
along with his fellow ghosthunters found himself trapped by the
ghoulish George, a tormented puppet obsessed soul transformed into a
living doll and then left to die by his unaccepting parents. The
hapless trio ended up becoming victims of George's misplaced desire
for vengeance and now find themselves his eternal playthings in the
mansion's basement. Let's see how they're doing...
Gerry's gloved arms lay
limply by his sides as he slumped in the corner of the dank basement.
The large full breasts that were now a permanent fixture on his chest
rose and fell but he otherwise felt powerless to move. The
unanswerable urge to cup, fondle and squeeze his own tremendous
cleavage called him, prodding his curiosity, they were after all more
sublime than any he had had access to in his previous life...such is
the reality of being a ghosthunter.... But no...just as the strings
tied to them lay still, so did his arms and he was limited to gazing
upon the heaving globes tucked beneath the latex corset through
makeup laden eyes while he waited for the mistress to once again take
up his controls.
Georgina was the other
side of the dark basement tending to Stephen and David. In contrast
to Gerry, their arms were suspended above their heads by
puppetstrings attached to controlbars hooked high on the wall.
Georgina was hard at work putting the finishing touches on their
costumes, somehow managing to split concentration between pulling
Stephen's corset bonecrushingly tight and rolling up the tops of a
pair of thigh-length vinyl heeled boots towards David's smooth female
groin. They hobbled around awkwardly on the spot barely able to keep
contact with the floor as the taut strings pulled them towards the
ceiling.
Gerry knew it would be
his turn next and then they would be once again be made to act out
another of Georgina's crazy pantomimes. Like mere toys they would be
drawn around the cramped basement by their powerful spiritual
mistress, unwilling actors in bizarre scenes of drama, emotion and
even love. Georgina would use her unknown power to force her
meticulously dressed and madeup subjects to argue, to cry and to
embrace and then she would redress her helplessly loyal playthings
and start all over again, endlessly... Gerry could see she was
getting more ambitious, her stories more intricate and passionate. In
the last one he had felt his new curvy body grab that which David
occupied and kiss it deeply. Taking such a beautiful woman in his
arms in such a way should have been amazing but he found himself
staring into his friend's terrified eyes for its duration. He later
realised David must have had the same experience. The puppets began
to hear Georgina's mutterings of new intruders in the house. She
talked about them excitedly like they were new additions to her toy
chest...and maybe they would be... For Gerry the idea of having
others to distract Georgina from him was a good thing, he just feared
what weird new adventures they would inspire...
