#fear project

I’m starting a project based off of fears, whether they be legitimate such as, “I’m afraid of heights” or could be completely out there such as  “I’m afraid of hairdryers.” What I need for you, my lovely followers and non-followers, is to please inbox me your fears. You can keep them anonymous, have your url be followed by the fear, whatever you choose. I want to showcase the different fears in the world, regardless of how stupid or frustrating they may seem. I’m not sure how I’m going to compile them just yet, but I want to start gathering fears from people, instead of searching for weird fears from Google. 

Your help with this project is greatly appreciated. 

I was honestly shocked to see so many replies. I really enjoyed reading through them all. You guys have some interesting, strange or different fears and I seriously can’t wait to draw them.

I’ve already started on a few and put up half of the site so you all can check if your fear made it to a visual image. http://bookoffears.weebly.com/monster-gallery.html

Also i’m really grateful to all of you ;u; my project would be nothing without you guys so I can’t thank you all enough. I’ll try to make as many monsters as I can. 

Cold, Wet & Dark 

The thumps and bumps overhead alerted her to the movement of traffic. There was no way to tell which part of the city she was in, but the elaborate tunnels ensured her safety. Her ankle boots did little to protect her feet from spurts of rushing water. The diminished grips on the soles failed her balance as she moved in a low, stooped motion. Yellow teethed rats clung to the brick walls with dagger claws, their tails whipping frantically to keep balance.  Every few feet a single, blue-white emergency light pulsed, fighting, but suffocating in the darkness. She forced her eyes closed and waited for the bursts behind them to seize, pressing her palm to the wall. Cold air filtered through cracks, numbing her fingertips.  Her lips trembled and her skin pricked, a drenched tank top clung to her slight frame, her favorite pair of jeans suctioned like a second layer of skin. A splintering ache stormed her skull, but she pushed her body blindly forward. Time escaped her senses.  Her hand read the wall like brail and she knew the water was seizing before her hollow footsteps tapped in the air. The tunnel widened, a pocket of air filled the cove and assaulted her with a blast of cold air. She opened her eyes and took in the slated steel of four wall mounted grates, bathed in light from the street above. Three of the grates vibrated with fans that sucked at debris, licking it up and whipping it through its casing. The only empty grate, with its unhinged cover gaped at her like an open mouth, the air inside stale and dry. She crawled forward, eyes wide open and all consumed by blackness. A hollow thump echoed in the distance. She had to keep moving.

Check out the actual contest @ FearProject 

Antagonist: create a diabolical villain capable of turning blood cold. 

Xylda’s barbed spinerippled, grazing her flesh until pricks of blood surfaced. Every vein in her body glowed iridescent yellow and swelled to bursting with her rapid pulse. She slammed her left hand against the brick wall. The chain around her wrist sang out in an echo, and a growl escaped her throat as the man pressed to the concrete wriggled forward. She squeezed her calves around his middle until he yelped.

Xylda’s barbed spine rippled, grazing her flesh until pricks of blood surfaced. Every vein in her body glowed iridescent yellow and swelled to bursting with her rapid pulse. She slammed her left hand against the brick wall. The chain around her wrist sang out in an echo, and a growl escaped her throat as the man pressed to the concrete wriggled forward. She squeezed her calves around his middle until he yelped.

           “Keep still or your brain becomes part of my décor,” she said.

           Frantic mud footprints covered the linoleum. The sparse room was lit only in sheer candlelight, and a grate in the floor whirred like gravel in a lawn mower. A power hose, secured in a hook on the wall dripped. A humid mist filled the room. The man halted his movement, his blood pooling around the blunt damage to his head. He scanned the room with blurred vision, and stopped on the far back wall, squinting. Eyeless mannequins lined its entirety, hacked pieces of unscarred flesh hung from their outstretched arms; tattooed and otherwise damaged skin lay in heaps on the ground. Hair dangled from the rafters, a soggy box, split at the side revealed discarded watches, fingernails, and jewelry.

           “I’m not getting out of here am I,” the man said.

           “I’ve been told I should make friends,” said Xylda. “We’ll get along great.”

The apocalypse: 

It’s caught in my throat, the urge to scream. My body tightens and my heart pounds, assaulting its emaciated insides. Steadying myself, I stoop and press my hand to the ground. The shaking beneath is constant; a throaty roar escapes from somewhere deep inside once a day. I tighten my shoulders in anticipation. My spine pricks against the tight flesh of my back, and my ears are flooded with static silence. The sky is an empty grey. A single red line crawls across the sky like a thumping vein. There has been no moon or sun for twenty-three days, no change in light or even a breeze. I haven’t found a single living creature. My body begins to throb, on the edge of panic when the guttural roar escapes and I fall to the ground. The red streak explodes like a firework, and shattered, scalding rock pelts against my flesh. I roll onto my back and stare above as the streak is reborn and begins its crawl again. A shuffling sound is coming towards me. I force my eyes closed and concentrate on the bursts behind them, holding my breath in the pit of my stomach, this isn’t the first time my ears have tricked me.

           “Are you okay,” he says. “You’re the first person I’ve found.”

           My eyes flutter open, unblinking. I’m not alone.

(As stated in my week one post, I have no affiliation with the contest. I'm simply using it as a fun, weekly exercise.) 

I am starting a photography album with a theme of fear, tackling  as many fears as I physically can throughout my life. This project will have no correlation with the movie Fear, the game Fear or anything else that is not the emotional state of fear. What I need from you however is a list of any fear you or someone you know may have. 

I also ask if you could please reblog this post for others to see, and tag my name "Steammotif" in it so I can find other peoples responses as well as yours.