an unfinished story05:35 Nov 05 2009
Times Read: 676
He was nameless. A creation of his own thoughts, non existent. Thriving in a world of constant overstimulation.
His humanesque face reflected dimly on every dull, deteriorating, scratched and destroyed surface of his being.
Discoloured fleshy tones that hinted towards decay hung from his large, slightly deformed skull.
One pale, glazed by a white film, the other a vivid penetrating green, Eye’s that seemed to migrate into there sockets as if to conceal his Soul.
Don’t Fret Precious, step away from the window.
His mouth was nothing but a shallow imprint below a desecrated nose-like drip, melting from the middle of his face. He had never spoken.
His body, frail, emaciated, twisted bones wrapped in skin. Elongated limbs that clung to his bloated belly that endlessly squirmed.
Sanity, memories, time, all were unknown to him. All he knew was his frequency. The pulsations in his head, the trobbing of his insides, the itches of thought.
Four walls always surrounded him. Permanent isolation . This offered him no worry for movement only came in convulsions for him. He knew nothing but the world inside the walls, inside his head.
Curiosity killed the cat.
There were no demons, no gods. Nothing but himself, his thoughts. He had no needs. He had no sins, no temptation. He just clung to himself, quivering at the thoughts that formed in his head and the squirming in his belly.
There was no time so it’s impossible to determine when the release happened. The walls were how they always were, he was how he always was, holding himself together, sunken eyes blurred, unfocused. Perpetual thoughts of undistinguished solitary.
Then the itching started. It coursed across his skin, stimulating every nerve on his cadaverous form. He remained in his pose of fetal decadence, tensing, trying to alleviate the sensation that intensified. His ears roared as the feeling elevated.
He questioned the unrelenting caresses. He had never had thoughts of unknown. He had never questioned, never experienced the severity of not knowing. The paradox’s ripped there way out of his mind.
How, What, Where, When, How?
He quivered, the feeling remained, he shook, persistent, he violently convulsed. Nothing seemed to stop the feeling. It elevated. It was unbearable. His eyes darted franticly, searching his dermal wrappings. He had never seen so vividly, his skin in such graphic nature. He could see nothing that would provoke such a feeling of displeasure. He absorbed the imagery of every line, scratch, blemish, pore and hair. The questions continually appeared, slaughter everything he once was.
He had to stop the itch before it destroyed him entirely, annihilated his non existent entity. He took control of his gaunt arms, removed them from there once undisturbed position. His grotesque mangled fingers shuddered with unexplored movement as they unfurled from his frail corpulence. A layer of mucous like filth stuck to his newly breathing hands. Dead tissue and flesh released a foul stench that crawled into his dilapidated nose. He felt his stomach ricochet.
Know that I will choke until I swallow.
COMMENTS
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CassieKillz
20:48 May 20 2011
i am intrigued. i want to know what happens next. ill be waiting for the ending
Become
17:43 Apr 17 2012
Wow.