“Where would you like them left?” I ask, keeping my voice steady. He doesn’t answer, doesn’t even turn to me. I shift my grip, the weight of them suddenly unbearable as the silence between us stretches, heavy. Suffocating.
read more…
Each Halloween, a chilling visitor haunts my porch, a porcelain doll masquerading as a child. Tonight, I confront the terror that has plagued me for years.
read more…
ScottSavino.com’s Voidspire Consortium’s Rules, Regulations and Expectations of Conduct
Your presence here—yes, you, wanderer—indicates that you are of sound mind and at least 18 years of age. This is not a mere suggestion but an unyielding decree. If you are not yet of age, you are not permitted to register, comment, or otherwise interact within these halls. There are no exceptions—not parental consent, not youthful cunning, not even the whispered plea of an elder god.
By continuing, you confirm your voluntary entry into these halls and accept the risks, the ridicule, and the rights afforded to all Unboundlings who dwell here. Should you falsify your age or otherwise trespass where you are unwelcome, know this: ScottSavino.com bears no responsibility for what you may encounter, nor for any lingering dread, existential crises, or corruptions of the soul that may follow. You have been warned.
The Voidspire Consortium thrives on freedom, and yet it is bound by rules:
Here, you may speak freely. Curse. Call out misdeeds. If another Unboundling angers you, you may call them whatever you like.
Know this: your words will have consequences. If you act shitty, expect shitty things in return. That is the way of the world—and of the Voidspire. Should the masses descend upon you for your insolence, know that you have invited this reckoning upon yourself.
What constitutes "shitty behavior?" The following, including but not limited to:
Settle your disputes with words, not hatred. Cast your curses, but keep them rooted in truth.
If chaos reigns unchecked—if petty squabbles spiral into madness—know that the Keeper of the Voidspire (me, Scott Savino) shall intervene.
At my sole discretion, one of the following judgments shall occur:
All moderation decisions are final and at my discretion. If you wish to appeal, you may do so by screaming into the void. The void will consider it. Perhaps.
Hate speech of any kind shall awaken my immediate wrath. Homophobia, transphobia, bigotry, or words directed against an entire group of people will not be tolerated. You will be flayed from existence, your account deleted, your IP banned, and your sins documented via screenshot. I may even send the evidence to your employer, your parents, or your third-grade teacher.
If you post spam—be it vile links, pyramid schemes, or other unholy plagues—you will be banished to the bogs for all eternity.
Repeat offenders shall be fed to the rats in the rat room. They are always hungry.
If you believe a comment to be in violation of these sacred laws, you may report it by emailing the link to the offending comment directly to me (scott@scottsavino.com). However, understand this: currently, no comments are automatically posted---I manually approve each one. This means that if you see it, I have already seen it.
Should you feel compelled to report an offense, you may plead your case as to why it offends you, and I will consider it.
Perhaps.
All stories, images, and works of madness within these halls are the sole property of Scott Savino and scottsavino.com.
You may share links to my work, as I have posted them. However, you may not:
Know this: I have had entire websites, YouTube channels, and apps obliterated in record time for such violations. Be warned.
By commenting on any post, you consent to the following:
These two actions—mailing list subscription and user account creation—are separate. Deleting your account does not unsubscribe you from emails, and unsubscribing from emails does not delete your account. Each must be done individually, and both options are made convenient and simple for those wishing to opt out of future interactions.
Your words are your own, but by speaking them here, you grant me an irrevocable license to repost them anywhere I deem amusing, helpful, or damning.
Choose your words carefully, my most cherished Unboundling.
This is my domain, and I may delete or suspend accounts whenever I feel like it. If this displeases you, go start your own cult centered around the worship of ancient underground serpents. This is scottsavino.com, and I am Scott Savino—is that okay with you, whoeveryouare.com?
Should you reach beyond the limits of my patience, your account shall be deleted, and your IP banned. There will be no appeal. It should also be understood that I may not follow these suspension rules according to my discretion and the severity of the offense.
Banned users may not create new accounts to bypass their exile. Any attempt to do so will result in additional bans, up to and including permanent IP blocking and further countermeasures as necessary. If you are cast into the void, you are expected to stay there.
If you choose to delete your account, most of your data will be erased from public view. However, certain records may be retained for legal, security, or administrative purposes. This is not a sinister plot---just standard practice in the realm of digital record-keeping. Know that the void remembers, even when you do not.
By entering this sanctum, you acknowledge that scottsavino.com exists for entertainment purposes only. Nothing here should be taken as professional, legal, medical, or existential advice. If you summon something unspeakable, that’s on you.
I may take this site down, break it, alter it, abandon it, or cause it to spontaneously combust at any time, with or without notice. I owe you nothing. If you depend on this site for your well-being, seek help.
If you follow a link to an external site and it leads you somewhere unspeakable, that’s on you, too. I have no control over third-party content, nor do I endorse, verify, or take responsibility for what lurks beyond the void. Proceed at your own risk.
Your use of this site is undertaken at your own peril. Proceed wisely.
These terms are fluid—like the waters of Twilight Cove—and may change whenever I see fit. You shall be informed through one of the following methods:
Your continued use of this sanctum shall constitute your agreement with these changes. If this unsettles you… good.
Changes take effect immediately upon posting. It is your responsibility to review these terms periodically. Ignorance is no defense, and the void does not accept excuses.
Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law
(unless Florida or U.S. law says otherwise.)
These terms are bound by both the ancient and unfathomable decrees etched into the eternal pages of the Esoteric Doctrine of Penumbra and the legal framework of the mortal realm—specifically, the laws of the State of Florida, United States. Should conflict arise between the two, the court system of Florida shall take precedence...for now.
Any legal disputes, claims, or grievances arising from your use of scottsavino.com shall be resolved through binding arbitration, rather than in court. This means:
Limitation of Claims
Should you feel compelled to take legal action (foolish mortal that you are), you must do so within one (1) year from the date of the event that gave rise to the claim. After that, your right to bring a claim shall be lost to the sands of time and Varoth’s eternal slumber.
To defy these laws is to tempt annihilation, and while Varoth will not rise for your petty insolence, you will not escape the consequences of your betrayal. The Unboundlings, your Brothers, Sisters, and Others within the sacred Voidspire Consortium, and I, Scott Savino, Hierophant of the Thrallites, will ensure swift and inventive retribution. Perhaps the flaying chamber will claim your flesh, feeding it to the sacred vermin who dwell therein. Perhaps you will find yourself bound and delivered to the Everglades, abandoned forever or until such a time as you are discovered by the hunger of the gators who neither question nor forgive... whichever happens first.
But let this be clear: all that we do, even in vengeance, is to preserve the sanctity of Varoth’s dreams. Let not your foolishness jeopardize his eternal slumber, for the serpent rises only once—and when he does, there will be nothing left to rise for.
By blood you clicked, your oath now sealed,
A pact in shadows, dark revealed.
Our terms, engraved in crimson script,
Will bind you hence until death's kiss.
Within view of thy watchful eyes, by remaining in this wretched dominion I acknowledge that I agree to this Codex of Rules, Regulations and Expectations of Conduct and shall abide by them. I do so in the hope of securing the favor of Varoth! Omryn Zamon!
fin.
ScottSavino.com's Voidspire Consortium’s Tome of Shadowed Intentions
Welcome, Unboundling. You stand now at the precipice of ScottSavino.com, a digital sanctum raised under the auspices of the Voidspire Consortium—a gathering bound by ink, shadow, and unspoken compacts. Here, within these spectral halls, you will find tales of dark amusement, whispered horror, and grotesque imaginings.
The Consortium offers you the gift of participation, should you dare—comment, register, share your words. But as with all dark pacts, participation comes with a price. Not one of gold or blood (yet), but of small fragments of your being: your name, your words, your habits—invisible and intangible, like echoes carried on eldritch winds.
Whether you are among the Lurkmire, those new to the fold; the Tenebrim, silent yet ever-present; or the exalted Netherkin, the innermost disciples—know that all are equal in the eyes of this shadowed ledger. Yet equality does not mean anonymity, nor does it grant exemption from the rites of record-keeping.
Thus, it begins: the detailed proclamation of your rights, your offerings, and your ability to flee should the Voidspire’s pull grow too heavy.
Herein lies the record of what you willingly surrender when interacting with this sanctum:
Beyond this bare minimum, you are free to share as much or as little as you please. The Consortium does not demand truths; it accepts lies, whispers, and silence equally. However, know this—your participation, whether through commenting or registration, is an invocation of consent:
The Consortium values your presence but shall not beg you to remain. Should you seek escape, the means shall always be available—but know that the void remembers, even when it does not keep.
Cookies—small fragments of code, unseen yet persistent—are invoked within these halls. They cling to your digital form like dust from an ancient tomb, not to reveal your secrets but to hasten your journey.
However, be warned: Should you reject these cookies, some doors may close to you. Some paths may remain obscured. Such is the price of denial. If you wish to reject cookies, you may do so via your browser settings, though certain functionalities of this domain may falter as a result.
Though the Consortium’s gaze rests upon this sanctum alone, it cannot claim the same of its watchers. Chief among them is Google Analytics, a being that observes the movements of Lurkmire and Netherkin alike.
The Consortium advises you to consult their scrolls of privacy, for their rites dwell beyond the control of this place. You may review their terms here:
The void may observe, but it does not meddle. What these watchers do with their knowledge is between you and their unfathomable architects.
To those who wish to sever their ties with the Voidspire Consortium, know this: freedom is yours to claim, should you desire it.
Know this, Unboundling: Though your presence may be erased, your time among us will not be forgotten. The void remembers all, even when it does not keep.
The words etched within this tome are not immutable. As new watchers are summoned, new rites performed, or new shadows cast, this privacy policy may change. When such changes occur, the Consortium will make its declarations clear, and you will be left to choose:
Should you continue your journey within these halls, it shall be known: you have chosen to abide by the new terms. The void shifts, but it does not forget.
By wandering these halls, by whispering your name into the ledger, you accept these rites and proclamations. Whether Lurkmire, Tenebrim, or exalted Netherkin, your presence is acknowledged, and your rights respected.
Should you wish to cast a query into the abyss—or challenge the wording of this pact—you may direct your missive to the architect at scott@scottsavino.com.
“Your eyes shut tight, yet still in vain,
For filthy fingers prized them wide again.
Clandestine hands, through soil did creep,
To steal the secrets you swore to keep.”
Thus concludes the Tome of the Voidspire Consortium's Shadowed Intentions, wherein your privacy is mostly guaranteed---if not shrouded in shadows.
fin.
Cookie Usage
...regarding the use and purpose of cookies on scottsavino.com
Who doesn’t love cookies? They’re delicious, and ours are very mostly oftenly not poisonous… mostly. But be warned: we are profoundly lactose intolerant. Should you require milk to accompany them, bring your own glass from home. Vile stuff, milk is.
In the shadowed corridors of this domain, cookies dwell—not spies nor creeping phantoms, but faithful little sentinels. They smooth your passage, remember your name when the darkness grows deep, and prevent welcome screens from tormenting you endlessly.
Know this: I do not barter your secrets in unseen markets. There are no advertisements here, no commerce, no covetous hands reaching for the folds of your privacy. I value it as I value my own.
Cookies on this site are used solely for functionality---such as login sessions, remembering preferences, and keeping the darkness at bay. Should you wish to reject them, you may do so through your browser settings, though some parts of the site may cease to function properly. This place is lined with cookies, and to remain is to accept them.
