Everything posted here has been archived from the random and sporadic postings of an inactive user on a now defunct messaging board.

The user describes outlandish and disturbing events, which while the OP was posting, went completely ignored by other users. Not a single person read the thousands of paragraphs posted. Analysing the site data, the first post got zero clicks.

As of 2025, there has been an increasing amount of curiosity surrounding the old unseen posts. Its becoming a bit of an urban legend.

The insane ramblings of someone suffering from psychotic breaks, or something more? That question draws people, they don't care about the truth, they care about the mystery, the air surrounding it.

The following will be an archiving of this lost content, uploaded twice a week, starting with the first post made by the account that had descriptions of supernatural events.

The following was posted on January 3rd, 2022

1:30pm.

School day. I've never been that academically gifted, just about clearing the hurdle for most subjects. I was sitting in front of the teacher, I'm the sort of guy that'll take the seats that people don't want. I fill the empty spaces.

Funny how most teachers will lecture students for talking amongst themselves during a lesson, but can't pick up on the fact that the kid infront of them is half asleep, recuperating from restless bus rides home after hopping around the town looking for drugs. (We'll get there.)

My teacher, who I'll call Mr biology in these posts to avoid leaving any clues to my real life, was preparing to give out a topic test on chromatography.

Most people were trying to get as much revision done in the final minute as they possibly could. Didn't really bother myself. I had a textbook sitting open in front of me, but my eyes were closed.

Behind me, sat a guy I'll call Mullet. Mullet was worse at this class then me, not for lack of trying, he did. Compared to the rest of the class, he was very interactive with the teacher, he did the work, he studied, he failed. Whenever he answered questions there was always something off with his phraseology.

Whenever he did the work, he misunderstood the questions, leading to him using the same answers in different questions. Who knows what he did to study, but judging from the class average, it wasn't helping anything stick in his brain.

He worked hard, but not in a way that made a difference. He never tried to change how he went about things, so when I say he works hard, it's in a way that he doesn't have to try hard.

While I was having a crazy reoccurring dream about this claymation caterpillar, I hear the teacher say something behind me to mullet. In my half-awake state I couldn't piece together what he had said, so I floppily turn my head to look at him half eyed.

He was making some joke to the teacher about his marks in the last test, my mind was still too focused on piecing together what had already been said. I studied the long-haired student for a few seconds, tracking his arm as he raised a see-through bottle to his mouth squirting the last of its contents down his throat. Something slowly began to click in my mind, the bottle and what Mr bio said forming a bridge.

Mountain dew.

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Huh.

It brought me back a few nights to when I found a weird vial between a drug dealers ass cheeks, which shared the same colouration.

Well, it's weird just jumping into it, but yeah. That's been a staple of my life since last week. Pantsing drug dealers to find illegal substances.

I only know what most of the other stuff looked like from cop shows, but this tiny vile wasn't something I'd seen before.

I know Mullet, he's been vaping since he was thirteen, and he's definitly the type of guy to get into weirder substances.

Couldn't hurt to poke a little deeper, if there is anything to poke into.

(Why does that sound wrong?)

2:45 PM

Bombed my biology test.

There was a question about what developing solution was used in our chromatography practical, and my first thought was, we did a chromatography practical?

As we were passing the tests back up to the front I start talking to Mullet.

"Yo Mullet, what'd you get for that stuff about the unknown mixture on the second last page?"

By that point in the test I was a little more confident.

"Huh? It was just alanine, wasn't it? You could eyeball it from the graph." I noticed he didn't seem defeated like he usually did after one of these.

"Haha, you think so? Mate, I put down leucine." In that moment I think defeat was visible on my exhausted face.

There was a short awkward silence, before he let a short "woof…" out.

He teetered back in his seat and broke eye contact with me.

'Shit shit how do I make small talk?'

I try to re-open the conversation,

"I mean, it really depends how much you studied for it though, right? You do a lot more than me, like-" He made eye contact with me again, and reared forward out of the backward tilt. Startling me with a clack of his chair

"Nah, it's about luck." he said with a slight crack of humour in his bored face.

I shifted my body around to face him straight on. "Luck?" I tried to pull him into a conversation, with the question.

He dragged his hand down the side of his face, rubbed his chin, and answered, "Everything's really down to luck though, right? If you're born rich, it's luck. If you win the lotto, It's luck. Get cancer? Bad luck. Whether or not ye' can think of the answer on a test, or choose right on a multiple-choice question?-"

He left a pause here, that looking back now, I realise I was supposed to fill.

He raised a brow and helped me out, "Luck."

"Right," I replied dumbly, "Yeah, i guess."

At this point the bell rang and he got up to leave. I realised now that I needed to ask him 'bout the dew.

"Well, hope you've got another bottle of mountain for mrs French's class. Ahahahah!"

Don't why know I laughed so hard or what that was even supposed to mean.

How the hell is a soft drink gonna make a class more bearable?

He did reply to my forced comment, "No, I don't drink mountain. That was clovers."

I tilt my head a little, "Clovers? Clovers dew?"

"Even you've gotta know about that." He seemed almost offended by my dumbass, probably fed up by this point.

"It's some energy drink from up north. Came down here recently, only sold in the Quarter? Tacky banner outside that says, 'Clovers dew: made with 100% real four leaf clover extract.'?"

He stared at me while he packed his bag, squinting his eyes.

"Oh, Clovers! Yeah-heh-heh, I remember that, in the Quarter, went there with my friends from Dublin awhile back!"

Pretty sad lie to tell and we both knew it.

With pity in his eyes, he said plainly as he walked away, "Get out of your house. Go get a drink. Might get yourself a girlfriend."

That's cold. I guess it stung, too.

For me? It hits harder than you can imagine. Maybe that's a little dramatic. I'm sure there are tons of people just like me, who simply fill space.

Who have no friends, or money, or any real direction.

That's sort of why I'm making this! Maybe somebody can take solice out of the fact that even a nobody like me can make a difference.

That, and if I go missing, somebody will know what I was doing.

That I sort of existed.

I was the last to leave the class, even Mr Bio had gone to get a sandwich or to check the football score done at the pitch in his free period.

The room was empty.

I packed my bag, pushed in my chair-

-then got down on the floor and rolled myself into a hand stand. Unflinching I removed nine of my fingers from the floor leaving only my pinky to keep me from falling.

Mullet might have fun with girls, but this is where I get my kicks.