I decided to put this together bits and pieces (for you stalkers, this is what I'm using as a rule of measurement: http://discoverygc.com/forums/index.php?sh...93556&st=70 ). New posts will be branded on the bottom; I will edit this post and place the posts and their blurbs in the appropriate area in this topic. This way, when some random stranger comes in, they can read the WHOLE story right here. But for those who are listening in, you can see the up new ones. Cool!
I look forward to inquiries from all of you. Especially you, since you haven't left yet. Just PM me with your /appraise or /wtf. I had to cut out a lot of vulgar language, despite it's obvious ("obvious") appropriateness. Infact, if I can have someone PM me the "okays" and the "defo not okays", that'd be fantabulous. Furthermore on that subject, I usually have a tendancy to get too "intimate" or too "gorey", so I'll also need a guide to filter that accordingly, because I'm a radical and I'm a crazy, crazy man.
There'll be more of this, I promise!
- - - -
I could feel tears welling in my eyes.
Trucks rolled by, open bed, with bodies toppling inside of them. They just bumped along the street, leaving a trail of blood. I almost shook at the sound of gunfire, but I was getting way too used to it. What was going on? It was like a black hole sucked everything that used to matter and left everything rotten, everything evil to take over the weak and defenseless. I pressed my hand hard against the laser shot wound, but I knew the blood was back in place. If there was anything I knew, it was that I couldn't stop shaking; the dampness was killing me. Dampness of blood, dampness of my urine after soiling my pants, the sweat; I was shaking, maybe because of the dampness, but maybe more because I was scared. I never thought Houston could get any worse for a rat living on the street.
I thought I was lucky for a while, heard my mother breast fed me before leaving me off with the homeless; some just got tossed in the garbage or in a pool of water. But it was now I realized they were much better off, because seeing your world turned upside down, seeing everything that seemed to make you secure destroyed in a single moment was like having your gut wrenched out and shoved back down your throat. I swore that the police, that the government was invincible; the rich people, invincible with their money, with their insurance; they were all dead, all done for, they were nothing, they were just like me. After running my hands through my hair, I reevaluated; I knew there were some punks around, some of my peers that were getting in on this. Whether or not I wanted to book it with the goons and crooks was really an option between life or death.
Running through the abandoned buildings and bullet-laden floors, I looked feverously for any semblance of human activity. All I saw were carcasses littered across the street, blood splattered all along the walls, and holes made from automatic weapons or explosives. Once I broke a door down to make my way outside, I realized there were human beings not too far; but I was smart enough at the moment to realize they were in no rush to be my friend. I didn't look down, I just ran, but as I did I fell right into a hole, full of black garbage bags; it was tremendous how much there were, but as soon as I hit my head against the ground I was knocked out cold.
In my brain, rushed images, oh make them stop, please. Resonance screamed in my head, but a black figure stood out and the pained numbed so quickly. KILL ME NOW. It got closer, I could feel myself throwing up my guts, I could feel myself turning inside out. DESTROY ME. All I saw was black, the world shut off, my body shut off, everything that matters was gone, but one little thing. I MUST BE DELETED. Perched on an invisible barrier of black, it was the only thing that made the world matter.
It's just a pigeon. Looking for its mist. It doesn't know that it's wild; it doesn't know that it scares me. Why am I frightened so easily? Pigeon, why can you scare me? Am I not part of your life anymore? Am I not welcome anymore?
The world mellowed into a yellow sunset, with a bowl; I knew alka-seltzer was in there, I knew it, there was no way, I knew it, and I begged for it not to drink. The pigeon, the eagle, the dove, the bird; it was hope, oh glorious hope, and I couldn't stand for it to dip its head down and self destruct. My eyes welled, and my stomach exploded, leaving a hole in my stomach while it leaned casually into the bowl. It's beak opened, and I could hear the mild slurp; I cried in pain, I wailed until I couldn't feel my throat, but in an instant it was all worth nothing.
I vomited red water, I feel like my tears were much thicker and a liquid like substance excreted from my nose, all I could taste was blood. I was swimming in a sea of blood, drowning in a sea of blood; I looked up for hope and all I saw was a smiling figure with eyes glaring open, teeth distorted into lines of thick black mucus stretching from ear to ear. It opened its mouth and hard, thick blood splattered against the ocean of bodily fluids. I screamed, but nothing came out; I was being swallowed by its gaping mouth, and I cried helplessly, and it was just that, helpless.
Am I not part of your life?
I woke up, and instantly fell into a meat grinder. I could feel my bones being broken against the machines and every muscle become processed through the grinder. My head did not explode; the skull simply cracked under pressure and was squeezed into green ooze. As my body was being processed through the machine, I could feel my ligaments, an unwanted portion, being stripped bear from the bone and muscle. Even when my body was detached I could feel it as if it were still a part of me; I could feel my muscles from all over being forced into a sausage wrap, into a packaged container, into another product.
I woke up back into a familiar enviorment; I looked around, and it was clear I was in one piece. I was overjoyed to be back before the world seemed to explode; homelessness was never so exciting. I walked around, a grin on my face, but noticed something odd; everything was very dark. I took a good glimpse at people and they seemed to be more than odd. It was as if they were repeating an action over and over again; for example, a woman walked straight into a wall hard enough to knock herself down, then got up and repeated the process. It wasn't as if time was taking a step back, like a glitch in time, because it was clear she was being wounded from the action. I looked around some more, hoping to find something that seemed to provide faith that this was the world I knew and loved.
I ran into the nearest shop, and tried to make contact with them; all they did was stare off and continue doing the same mindless action over and over. Shivers struck down my spine; one man, old fellow who was balding, was typing on his keyboard, which was being processed into the computer without spaces. With a rush of force I jumped into action and pushed him out of the chairs, instantly gone to read what was on the computer:
I grabbed my hair and staggered backwards, screaming at the top of my lungs the exact words that filled the entire screen; I felt something behind me and looked back and all I saw was a giant black hand in a world that was quickly turning dark. I became petrified as it grabbed my skull and suffocated me. I felt myself strapped to a table, with my arms and legs spread out at an uncomfortable angle. I tried screaming but my throat was so sore. I tried screaming, because I was blind, I was deaf, I was mute and all I could feel was pain.
I could feel the metal of the pliers against the tip of my fingers, as it squeezed hard between my fingernail. I knew what would come next, but denied it; instantly, a surge of pain rolled through my arm and I could feel blood oozing from where my fingernail once was. I could not scream, I could only wish that I could die. The process repeated, even when we got to my toenails, and all I could think of was the excruciating gush of pain my whole body quaked in. My limbs pulsated in agony, and I wanted to calm myself by breathing slowly but my throat was swollen. As my jaw was pried open, I did not bother to fight. My teeth went one by one, and it got worse as the process went along. Each time a tooth was pulled, it jolted a message throughout my whole body and made everything worse than it ever was before. All I wanted to do was die, living after experiencing this pain was not worth the trouble.
I felt like I was burning, combusting, as if I was thrown in the sun. But I wouldn't die. I could feel myself disintegrating into the cleansing fire, the power of the ultimate purge. I felt like my body was the target for a nuclear weapon, and I was every atom that was being split by a fission. I was being doused in gasoline as suddenly I could see. In a moment more my hearing persisted, which was crowded by the hard hiss of combusting fire, high squeal of burning oil. It wasn't long until my screams were audible; and it was the only thing I could do. I flailed myself around in an attempt to quell the fire, but it just got stronger.
Am I not welcome?
Suddenly, a bubbly liquid extinguished all the fire. I gasped in relief, sucking in a bit of the substance and swallowing it into my thirsty, unquenched mouth; I knew the taste and immediately choked when I realized it was alka-seltzer.
When I woke up, I realized I was alone, which was good; nobody was here to extort me or worse. I peered around, and I realized I was sitting in a pit full of garbage bags. It smelled horrible, worse then anything I've ever smelt before, but it wasn't just that; the smell was overpowering, it was everywhere. I could visibly see fumes coming from the ground as the bags and the contents inside them were cooking under the son. My hands felt around the bags in an attempt to get up, but it was then I realized that these bags were not filled with garbage but quickly I tore open the nearest bag and to all my woes, it was filled, filled to the brim each one, with human remains. My legs shook, and I urinated in my pants in utter fear; tears drooled from my eyes and I started bawling; I was where I should be, I should be dead, someone has to kill me because I can't take it anymore!
I vommited violently, my throat was sore, and when I was finished I went back to screaming. I could feel footprints-- I couldn't be seen, but it was too late. Three young adults, blasters out, ready and pointing were on me. Frozen stiff, I didn't move a muscle. One of them called the gun pointing off and began making his way down the sunken pit of bodies. "It's alright, kid, calm down." His rugged voice, bloodshot eyes that clearly haven't met sleep, it made me want to run, but I couldn't. When he closed in on me he began kicking my torso, my rib cage. I stopped yelling and began groaning lowly, and in an instant he stopped, "Good, 'bout time you quit yellin'." He reached down, and I thought he was going to continue to beat me, but instead he dragged me to my feet. My legs felt sore; I wanted to lay down, but I couldn't refuse his generousity.
After being pulled from the pit, I was thrown among the other two. Another young man pulled up in a truck full of barrels, and they conversed lightly before I heard their plan. Three of the four of them started pulling the barrels from the back when the one who saved me came up to me and began speaking, "Just sit tight and watch this--" I looked behind me and a dark brown liquid was now pooling in the pit of bodies. The boys ran out from there and gave a signal, and in an instant all I saw was a little flicker of light ascend up, and then plummit down right into the puddle, which instantly turned into a fireball. The whole sunken area was ignited, and the fire was so great; the smell of burning flesh was strong in the air and I started to dry heave.
- - - -
She threw up everywhere.
We were going down; not just down, but down down. It was bad, real bad. The world decided to spin a million ways at once, my brain felt like it was bouncing around in my head. The seatbelt had a death grip on me, and I could feel the blood running down from my sweat-pressed sleeve. Once we smacked into the atmosphere, it was like hitting a flaming brick wall; almost immediately, at that moment, all the sweat on my face as well as the snot in my nose shot forward. My teeth and eyes wanted to desperately leave my skull, and the pressure was intensifying on my sinus's past rates I could ever imagine to endure. I could smell her vomit just fine, though, guess that was the best part. Her screaming died out long ago, all I could hear is high and low pitches squealing and roaring as we were soaring into the wasteland of some planet no one cared about. Life has a persistent habit of throwing curve balls at you, I should know; this wasn't my first time.
This wasn't even the best part. Arguably, the best part could've either been the fact that I insisted we buy a temporary ship without a tested escape pod, or the landing. I tried my best to curve the ship so we wouldn't plummet straight into the ground, but it got so friggen close way too fast, we could feel the sand grinding the bottom of the ship into thin staples and paperclips. Fortunately, we skidded across a good, clear and stable landscape, which eventually let friction do its work to stop our ship. I'd be worse enough that we'd be trapped in the ship, let alone under a mountain of sand.
When everything stopped, the world froze; I threw up whatever was left in my guts and immediately slumped forward, suspended against my seatbelt. An airbag shot out, blowing my body back, and then it retracted after the blow subsided. I saw spots of black and couldn't feel my body; acknowledging the fact that I still had a body would be beyond me. All I could think about was if she was alright, kept telling myself she was dead, she was dead. Expecting the worst is an involuntary habit, I forced myself to move on in that five second period, didn't bother to look at her. Her make-up was probably smeared anyway, and I knew how much she hated me seeing her without her face on.
I reached for my combat knife, but my whole arm was pulsating in pain. I braced my teeth, curled my toes and slowly used the serrated edge to saw through the heavy duty seatbelt, which took a liking to my torso like an Outcast to Cardamine. The heavy fabric was relentless to twine, but after some convincing I was able to break through the initial threading and work my way in. Everything was still, everything was silent, save the sawing; the emergency fire-extinguisher leaked, and drips of water trickled off. The engine hummed with steam in a sporadic pattern, but it wasn't quite enough to be seriously noted upon. The air was thick with smoke and dust, which hindered both my vision and breathing, but it was something I was pretty used to after being in cheap ships for all my life.
I remembered her short hair, her lovely smile, that feeling that made me want to crumple into myself when we kissed, when we danced. She's dead. Peers didn't approve, I knew she was close to them, but she went with me anyway. She's done for. I could almost imagine settling down, if my whole life didn't dictate otherwise, and I promised her that I'd think about it. Now I don't want to think about anything. I don't want to leave this ship wreck, I don't want to survive another day'She's gone and now I want to go with her, to wherever you eventually slip off to. But I kept sawing, for some reason, and I couldn't stop even when the fabric was finished. I grabbed my knife, and tears welled in my eyes; I began cutting into my hand and my brain went numb with pain. She's dead. I thought I was stronger. Soon, I could feel droplets of blood crawling out of my glove and splattering on my lap. I was breaking down, fissioning into grief, hatred and sorrow. I screamed at the top of my lungs, but I swear, I couldn't hear a thing.
I remember when my arms went around her lithe waist, when she sat on top of me. She looked down with those large, beady eyes of hers that could cut diamonds in place. Her short, black hair hanging from her head, as we gazed all so longingly. Her bony hands pressed against my shoulders and chest; she couldn't press down hard enough, even if she tried. White, supple legs curved against my thighs, and I could've never imagined I'd be so lucky to come across her. But now, now she's dead.
My throat was sore now; every scream that came from my mouth was squelched with fear, pain and I looked towards her. Slumped against her seatbelt, she leaned down; one eye was gone, the other was hanging by a thread outside of a socket. Blood was drooling from her thin lips, her tongue was cut off since she was forced to bite down on it. Her arms outstretched towards the floor, her painted nails still somewhat intact. I almost dry heaved, but acknowledging she was dead beforehand helped; of course, nothing could seriously prepare me for the reality. It's much easier to say someone is dead, than to simply admit it and move on.
I pushed myself from the chair that held me, and my whole body wanted to lay back down and forget it all. I wanted to lay back down and forget it all. So sore, so hurt, I didn't want to get up; I wanted to stay down, stay down! I slammed myself against the wall, breathed hard against the cold metal and pulled my gun. Faster then I'd like I shoved the barrel into my mouth; my whole hand shaked and I bit down on the gun, tasted the alloy of the shooter; I couldn't squeeze the trigger, I had to, but I couldn't.
Eventually, I switched the safety on and holstered my blaster. The exit was crumbled, so I had to kick it out. My whole body wanted to shut off, my whole brain wanted to shut off. The foot I used to kick the door out with pulsated with pain. Outside, all I could see was a whole lot of trees. I could already see my ship being dissolved into the habitat; with quick thinking, I jumped from the craft and somersaulted across the moss floor. Pulling my knife to act as a machete, almost immediately I hacked through the vegetation. For a moment now, I realized that stopping now wasn't quite an option anymore.
Smoke was in the air; I wasn't alone. I could hear chanting, yelling, gunfire, screams. Anywhere was better then nowhere. My dry throat was crying for water; it was all I could think about at the moment, until I realized the accent of the chants; some kind of slurring, pitch-bent style. I remembered who it belonged to, but couldn't quite put a name to it. I came close to the location of the fire, drew my firearm and peaked through, and it all hit me in the face; they were either Corsairs or Outcasts. Suddenly, I felt thirstier than ever.
- - - -
We were moving along fine, really. I disengaged our thrusters, looking out the cockpit towards the merchant who hired me. Gave him a thumbs up to give him clearance, but I wasn't sure he saw. While we moved towards the trade lane, I thought over how I'd try to keep milking for more money. He was happy I was here, and I think it atleast warded off a few rats, but the lack of an actual fight might've left him in doubt. He knew, though, that I was more than experienced and more than capable; maybe a little too old, though. We engaged the trade lane, just like the hundreds we had before.
It all happened so fast. The world flew by, as it does, and I could feel the turbulence slamming against me; but it was like nothing else. The trader's transport I was watching, like a brushstroke of paint speeding towards the light, collided with a glacier. Somehow, an ice asteroid made it into the cleared path; but more importantly, somehow, everything that was promised was gone. In the instant his ship imploded, I could see his hull crushing inwards, letting the pressure take complete advantage. The eject pod spat out, straight into the rock, splattering red paint all over it's side. I disengaged the autopilot that allowed me to stay stable in the trade lane, effectively disabling the kinetic energy that thrusted my ship. I watched; it was all I could do; crumpling my hands, balling them into fists around my blaster.
Like a swarm of locusts over the plantations, fighter jets oozed from the asteroid field into the trade lane. I could feel my own gulp, I could hear it; they all just piled out towards the transport vessel, possibly prospecting it. Without a thought in my mind, or an infliction to run, my hand automatically squeezed against the firing trigger. Rays of plasma flew infront of my ship and everything began to swirl. My brain felt numb; I triggered my ships evasive maneuvers, but there was just so many of them. Their ships, light'Startrackers, maybe'and a few of them blew up relatively fast. It wasn't long until bolts broke through my shield, and the cold, monotonous AI voice reminded me that the energy was depleted. I squeezed my eyes closed as hard as I could and made a sharp turn towards a nearby planet; it was a few kilometers away, so I decided to take a run for it.
After activating my cruisers, a few of them tried to hit me with their missiles; luckily, the field I was going through disallowed that from happening. Before I knew it I was speeding towards a large, circular blob of light blue, past thousands and thousands of rocks; some smashed into the window, dissipated, others left cracks. I managed to avoid most of the large ones, and the planet got bigger and bigger. I could feel them on my tail, laser blasts smashing against asteroids next to me or infront of me. Thinking I had the situation under control, I dodged away; my left wing scraped hard against a giant rock, I can hear it crying, shrieking and the pop of it dislodging itself. My computer went psycho, everything turned black and red, my heart was pounding, bells went off, my AI screamed at me, all I could see was blue, and all I could see was blue!
I remember when my arms went around her lithe waist, when she sat on top of me. She looked down with those large, beady eyes of hers that could cut diamonds in place. Her short, black hair hanging from her head, as we gazed all so longingly. Her bony hands pressed against my shoulders and chest; she couldn't press down hard enough, even if she tried. White, supple legs curved against my thighs, and I could've never imagined I'd be so lucky to come across her. But now, now she's dead.
My throat was sore now; every scream that came from my mouth was squelched with fear, pain and I looked towards her. Slumped against her seatbelt, she leaned down; one eye was gone, the other was hanging by a thread outside of a socket. Blood was drooling from her thin lips, her tongue was cut off since she was forced to bite down on it. Her arms outstretched towards the floor, her painted nails still somewhat intact. I almost dry heaved, but acknowledging she was dead beforehand helped; of course, nothing could seriously prepare me for the reality. It's much easier to say someone is dead, than to simply admit it and move on.
I pushed myself from the chair that held me, and my whole body wanted to lay back down and forget it all. I wanted to lay back down and forget it all. So sore, so hurt, I didn't want to get up; I wanted to stay down, stay down! I slammed myself against the wall, breathed hard against the cold metal and pulled my gun. Faster then I'd like I shoved the barrel into my mouth; my whole hand shaked and I bit down on the gun, tasted the alloy of the shooter; I couldn't squeeze the trigger, I had to, but I couldn't.
Eventually, I switched the safety on and holstered my blaster. The exit was crumbled, so I had to kick it out. My whole body wanted to shut off, my whole brain wanted to shut off. The foot I used to kick the door out with pulsated with pain. Outside, all I could see was a whole lot of trees. I could already see my ship being dissolved into the habitat; with quick thinking, I jumped from the craft and somersaulted across the moss floor. Pulling my knife to act as a machete, almost immediately I hacked through the vegetation. For a moment now, I realized that stopping now wasn't quite an option anymore.
Smoke was in the air; I wasn't alone. I could hear chanting, yelling, gunfire, screams. Anywhere was better then nowhere. My dry throat was crying for water; it was all I could think about at the moment, until I realized the accent of the chants; some kind of slurring, pitch-bent style. I remembered who it belonged to, but couldn't quite put a name to it. I came close to the location of the fire, drew my firearm and peaked through, and it all hit me in the face; they were either Corsairs or Outcasts. Suddenly, I felt thirstier than ever.
We were moving along fine, really. I disengaged our thrusters, looking out the cockpit towards the merchant who hired me. Gave him a thumbs up to give him clearance, but I wasn't sure he saw. While we moved towards the trade lane, I thought over how I'd try to keep milking for more money. He was happy I was here, and I think it atleast warded off a few rats, but the lack of an actual fight might've left him in doubt. He knew, though, that I was more than experienced and more than capable; maybe a little too old, though. We engaged the trade lane, just like the hundreds we had before.
It all happened so fast. The world flew by, as it does, and I could feel the turbulence slamming against me; but it was like nothing else. The trader's transport I was watching, like a brushstroke of paint speeding towards the light, collided with a glacier. Somehow, an ice asteroid made it into the cleared path; but more importantly, somehow, everything that was promised was gone. In the instant his ship imploded, I could see his hull crushing inwards, letting the pressure take complete advantage. The eject pod spat out, straight into the rock, splattering red paint all over it's side. I disengaged the autopilot that allowed me to stay stable in the trade lane, effectively disabling the kinetic energy that thrusted my ship. I watched; it was all I could do; crumpling my hands, balling them into fists around my blaster.
Like a swarm of locusts over the plantations, fighter jets oozed from the asteroid field into the trade lane. I could feel my own gulp, I could hear it; they all just piled out towards the transport vessel, possibly prospecting it. Without a thought in my mind, or an infliction to run, my hand automatically squeezed against the firing trigger. Rays of plasma flew infront of my ship and everything began to swirl. My brain felt numb; I triggered my ships evasive maneuvers, but there was just so many of them. Their ships, light'Startrackers, maybe'and a few of them blew up relatively fast. It wasn't long until bolts broke through my shield, and the cold, monotonous AI voice reminded me that the energy was depleted. I squeezed my eyes closed as hard as I could and made a sharp turn towards a nearby planet; it was a few kilometers away, so I decided to take a run for it.
After activating my cruisers, a few of them tried to hit me with their missiles; luckily, the field I was going through disallowed that from happening. Before I knew it I was speeding towards a large, circular blob of light blue, past thousands and thousands of rocks; some smashed into the window, dissipated, others left cracks. I managed to avoid most of the large ones, and the planet got bigger and bigger. I could feel them on my tail, laser blasts smashing against asteroids next to me or infront of me. Thinking I had the situation under control, I dodged away; my left wing scraped hard against a giant rock, I can hear it crying, shrieking and the pop of it dislodging itself. My computer went psycho, everything turned black and red, my heart was pounding, bells went off, my AI screamed at me, all I could see was blue, and all I could see was blue!
Trucks rolled by, open bed, with bodies toppling inside of them. They just bumped along the street, leaving a trail of blood. I almost shook at the sound of gunfire, but I was getting way too used to it. What was going on? It was like a black hole sucked everything that used to matter and left everything rotten, everything evil to take over the weak and defenseless. I pressed my hand hard against the laser shot wound, but I knew the blood was back in place. If there was anything I knew, it was that I couldn't stop shaking; the dampness was killing me. Dampness of blood, dampness of my urine after soiling my pants, the sweat; I was shaking, maybe because of the dampness, but maybe more because I was scared. I never thought Houston could get any worse for a rat living on the street.
I thought I was lucky for a while, heard my mother breast fed me before leaving me off with the homeless; some just got tossed in the garbage or in a pool of water. But it was now I realized they were much better off, because seeing your world turned upside down, seeing everything that seemed to make you secure destroyed in a single moment was like having your gut wrenched out and shoved back down your throat. I swore that the police, that the government was invincible; the rich people, invincible with their money, with their insurance; they were all dead, all done for, they were nothing, they were just like me. After running my hands through my hair, I reevaluated; I knew there were some punks around, some of my peers that were getting in on this. Whether or not I wanted to book it with the goons and crooks was really an option between life or death.
Running through the abandoned buildings and bullet-laden floors, I looked feverously for any semblance of human activity. All I saw were carcasses littered across the street, blood splattered all along the walls, and holes made from automatic weapons or explosives. Once I broke a door down to make my way outside, I realized there were human beings not too far; but I was smart enough at the moment to realize they were in no rush to be my friend. I didn't look down, I just ran, but as I did I fell right into a hole, full of black garbage bags; it was tremendous how much there were, but as soon as I hit my head against the ground I was knocked out cold.
In my head, rushed images, oh make them stop, please. Resonance screamed in my head, but a black figure stood out and the pained numbed so quickly. KILL ME NOW. It got closer, I could feel myself throwing up my guts, I could feel myself turning inside out. DESTROY ME. All I saw was black, the world shut off, my body shut off, everything that matters was gone, but one little thing. I MUST BE DELETED. Perched on an invisible barrier of black, it was the only thing that made the world matter.
It's just a pigeon. Looking for its mist. It doesn't know that it's wild; it doesn't know that it scares me. Why am I frightened so easily? Pigeon, why can you scare me? Am I not part of your life anymore? Am I not welcome anymore?
The world mellowed into a yellow sunset, with a bowl; I knew alka-seltzer was in there, I knew it, there was no way, I knew it, and I begged for it not to drink. The pigeon, the eagle, the dove, the bird; it was hope, oh glorious hope, and I couldn't stand for it to dip its head down and self destruct. My eyes welled, and my stomach exploded, leaving a hole in my stomach while it leaned casually into the bowl. It's beak opened, and I could hear the mild slurp; I cried in pain, I wailed until I couldn't feel my throat, but in an instant it was all worth nothing.
I vomited red water, I feel like my tears were much thicker and a liquid like substance excreted from my nose, all I could taste was blood. I was swimming in a sea of blood, drowning in a sea of blood; I looked up for hope and all I saw was a smiling figure with eyes glaring open, teeth distorted into lines of thick black mucus stretching from ear to ear. It opened its mouth and hard, thick blood splattered against the ocean of bodily fluids. I screamed, but nothing came out; I was being swallowed by its gaping mouth, and I cried helplessly, and it was just that, helpless.
Am I not part of your life?
I woke up, and instantly fell into a meat grinder. I could feel my bones being broken against the machines and every muscle become processed through the grinder. My head did not explode; the skull simply cracked under pressure and was squeezed into green ooze. As my body was being processed through the machine, I could feel my ligaments, an unwanted portion, being stripped bear from the bone and muscle. Even when my body was detached I could feel it as if it were still a part of me; I could feel my muscles from all over being forced into a sausage wrap, into a packaged container, into another product.
I woke up back into a familiar enviorment; I looked around, and it was clear I was in one piece. I was overjoyed to be back before the world seemed to explode; homelessness was never so exciting. I walked around, a grin on my face, but noticed something odd; everything was very dark. I took a good glimpse at people and they seemed to be more than odd. It was as if they were repeating an action over and over again; for example, a woman walked straight into a wall hard enough to knock herself down, then got up and repeated the process. It wasn't as if time was taking a step back, like a glitch in time, because it was clear she was being wounded from the action. I looked around some more, hoping to find something that seemed to provide faith that this was the world I knew and loved.
I ran into the nearest shop, and tried to make contact with them; all they did was stare off and continue doing the same mindless action over and over. Shivers struck down my spine; one man, old fellow who was balding, was typing on his keyboard, which was being processed into the computer without spaces. With a rush of force I jumped into action and pushed him out of the chairs, instantly gone to read what was on the computer:
I grabbed my hair and staggered backwards, screaming at the top of my lungs the exact words that filled the entire screen; I felt something behind me and looked back and all I saw was a giant black hand in a world that was quickly turning dark. I became petrified as it grabbed my skull and suffocated me. I felt myself strapped to a table, with my arms and legs spread out at an uncomfortable angle. I tried screaming but my throat was so sore. I tried screaming, because I was blind, I was deaf, I was mute and all I could feel was pain.
I could feel the metal of the pliers against the tip of my fingers, as it squeezed hard between my fingernail. I knew what would come next, but denied it; instantly, a surge of pain rolled through my arm and I could feel blood oozing from where my fingernail once was. I could not scream, I could only wish that I could die. The process repeated, even when we got to my toenails, and all I could think of was the excruciating gush of pain my whole body quaked in. My limbs pulsated in agony, and I wanted to calm myself by breathing slowly but my throat was swollen. As my jaw was pried open, I did not bother to fight. My teeth went one by one, and it got worse as the process went along. Each time a tooth was pulled, it jolted a message throughout my whole body and made everything worse than it ever was before. All I wanted to do was die, living after experiencing this pain was not worth the trouble.
I felt like I was burning, combusting, as if I was thrown in the sun. But I wouldn't die. I could feel myself disintegrating into the cleansing fire, the power of the ultimate purge. I felt like my body was the target for a nuclear weapon, and I was every atom that was being split by a fission. I was being doused in gasoline as suddenly I could see. In a moment more my hearing persisted, which was crowded by the hard hiss of combusting fire, high squeal of burning oil. It wasn't long until my screams were audible; and it was the only thing I could do. I flailed myself around in an attempt to quell the fire, but it just got stronger.
Am I not welcome?
Suddenly, a bubbly liquid extinguished all the fire. I gasped in relief, sucking in a bit of the substance and swallowing it into my thirsty, unquenched mouth; I knew the taste and immediately choked when I realized it was alka-seltzer.
When I woke up, I realized I was alone, which was good; nobody was here to extort me or worse. I peered around, and I realized I was sitting in a pit full of garbage bags. It smelled horrible, worse then anything I've ever smelt before, but it wasn't just that; the smell was overpowering, it was everywhere. I could visibly see fumes coming from the ground as the bags and the contents inside them were cooking under the son. My hands felt around the bags in an attempt to get up, but it was then I realized that these bags were not filled with garbage but quickly I tore open the nearest bag and to all my woes, it was filled, filled to the brim each one, with human remains. My legs shook, and I urinated in my pants in utter fear; tears drooled from my eyes and I started bawling; I was where I should be, I should be dead, someone has to kill me because I can't take it anymore!
I vommited violently, my throat was sore, and when I was finished I went back to screaming. I could feel footprints-- I couldn't be seen, but it was too late. Three young adults, blasters out, ready and pointing were on me. Frozen stiff, I didn't move a muscle. One of them called the gun pointing off and began making his way down the sunken pit of bodies. "It's alright, kid, calm down." His rugged voice, bloodshot eyes that clearly haven't met sleep, it made me want to run, but I couldn't. When he closed in on me he began kicking my torso, my rib cage. I stopped yelling and began groaning lowly, and in an instant he stopped, "Good, 'bout time you quit yellin'." He reached down, and I thought he was going to continue to beat me, but instead he dragged me to my feet. My legs felt sore; I wanted to lay down, but I couldn't refuse his generousity.
After being pulled from the pit, I was thrown among the other two. Another young man pulled up in a truck full of barrels, and they conversed lightly before I heard their plan. Three of the four of them started pulling the barrels from the back when the one who saved me came up to me and began speaking, "Just sit tight and watch this--" I looked behind me and a dark brown liquid was now pooling in the pit of bodies. The boys ran out from there and gave a signal, and in an instant all I saw was a little flicker of light ascend up, and then plummit down right into the puddle, which instantly turned into a fireball. The whole sunken area was ignited, and the fire was so great; the smell of burning flesh was strong in the air and I started to dry heave.
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