Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Savaged


Ahhhhh……….. What the fuck? Oh my head it hurts like no other. Where the fuck am I; I’m blinded by wet layers of goo covering my eyes.




My head is spinning, pounding; what the fuck is going on? There’s bright light shining red through my glued shut eyes; sand fills my eye sockets. I dig at my eyes with numb fingers; I hear music playing low over the sounds of traffic; horns honk with the sounds of rush hour. I rip at the sheets; cool wet sticky clinging tightly to my arms and legs. I kick as hard as I’m able; I’m so weak, sweat comes easy, I lay back wet in exhaustion, delirium flows over my body.

Wakening soaked in sweat I shake my head, my eyes still covered in chunky goo that clings to my lids like glue, fingers unable to clear the wet soaking sticky film I utter a sickly low grunt as waves of twisting spinning sickness wash over my body; with great effort I raise my left arm from the tangle of sodden bedding throwing off the last tangle of sheets, I rub a terrible ache in my upper right arm, my finger dig deep in rough tangles of globs scabs of dried and wet sticky clumps cling to my skin. I hear a slow drip of water; my legs are twisted in ropes of soaked cotton; a horrible stink over whelms the other senses it reeks of bright coppery electricity with lower tones of beaten loamy heavy earthy scents. I smell a sour sweet stench of busted bowels its taste itch’s the tongue as whiffs float through the air of fermented foods half digested opened to oxidation on breezes coming from an open window. I dig franticly at my eyes.

Waking now to soft sounds of traffic my arms feel sedated laying limp at my sides; my right arm trapped, wrapped in a tangle of stiff sheets. Peering from my left eye I swivel focusing on the area of the bed towards the left pillow; I see a slicer of meat about four inches square with long blond hair flowing across the crumpled pillow; edges dulling of drying meat; a peninsula of long tissue ending with a neatly preserved left ear lobe adorned with a shinning brilliant diamond ear ring glistening in the bright late morning sun. I gag…………

Soft shadows; brighter lights to my right; I awake on my back to the murmur of soft traffic and a strong gagging odor of perforated bowel and lingering death. My left arm seems to be awake as I force it to lift into view from my side; shakily it wavers inches over my face. I will it to rub my left eye clearing dried chunks of debris fall from my face. My upper lip feels bloody and ripped, my hand shakily pulls a long torn red fingernail from between my teeth waving it before my eyes.

I roll my swimming head from side to side red then white light fills my face from the bed side lamp. Starring into the light I see that the lamps shade was once white but now painted red by thick blood at the top then condensing into streaming drying blood that flowed towards the bottom of the shade, the base of the lamp are pools of drying coagulated blood once bright red now a sickening color of brown. Chunks of pale flesh make islands where blood once flowing seeking lower places to cool and pool; my eyes stop and rest upon a severed breast sliced free sitting up right with nipple facing the brocade ceiling. My stomach spins I puke into the stained bottom sheet at my side. I gag and puke, dry heave until I’m sure I’m going to die; large chunks of my last meal rip and tear my throat spewing across the sheets. Aching I lay panting right side of my face laying flat facing the light; in the center of my stomach content lays a beautifully manicured woman’s right index finger with a bright red painted finger nail ragged and torn; my mind flashes to my ripped torn lips.

Rolling away my eyes slowly adjust to the low light of the sixty watt bulb of the night stand. The room just over ten by twelve is in shambles, broken chairs and table washed up against the door to the hallway like a log jam. The mirror over the table is broken into a myriad of pieces glistening sharp pin points of light into my eyes. Closer twisted into the bedding is a large glistening section of lower intestine undulating between white and grey disappearing over the edge of the bed onto the floor. I see chunks of ripped flesh scattered across the once tan carpet now stained dark brown, viscous ropes of humanity twist and turn between chunks of torn meat. I gurgle a muted scream.

Lying on my back panting for breath I see splattered blood across the ceiling thickening towards the walls. Small pieces of flesh stick to the walls, larger chunks have peeled away leaving painted outlines where they once stuck. Nooks and crannies are jammed with flesh, blood oozing leaving red brown lines trailing to the floor. The over head fan slowly turns casting revolving shadows; red stalactites of cold blood are angled into the spinning motion of the fan.

Voices from the hallway harsh; echoing pounding on the door jars my senses rattles my ears. Flashlights sear sun blazes into my eyes.

My hands are cuffed as I lay cold on the hard floor, Sirens loud, curses, questions of why, bars.

I lay still with swirling answerless thoughts, I wonder what will happened, what will come.

From the Ramblings



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1 comment:

  1. Wow. What a scene. By the end of the story, I felt as overwhelmed as its speaker, and as curious as the people who caught him, wondering what kind of thing this is to have done all that. As entrancing as ever. I particularly like the line "Red stalactites hang from torn flesh..." That's quite an image!

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