but they do.
Loudly.
He wheezes.
Loudly.
And walks towards me.
Relentless disproportionate steps, as if his legs are broken and buckling beneath him. His head is sucked into his shoulders. Scrawny arms hang from his shoulders like broken branches from an electrocuted tree in a graveyard.
He doesn’t swing his arms.
Moves towards me.
Closer still.
Right up to me, where I am lying on the bunk above his. He stops right there. His face is mere inches from mine.
He looks at me.
No.
He does not look at me.
He stares at me with cloudy and dead orbs. They reflect the lures of emptiness and the pleasures of zero. Snot swings from both his nostrils like fibrillating fleshy stalactites. Thick and clear saliva dangles from his lips and chin.
He opens his mouth as if to say something. Instead of words exiting his mouth, a black tongue protrudes. A long, thick, and phallic abomination that seems to have a life of its own. This tongue, this shiny black tentacle is covered with puss-oozing suckers. The whole thing shoots out towards me.
Fast.
Very fast.
It lashes out with demonic will and wraps itself around my neck with brazen certainty. There is a loud burp. A cough. A forced word perhaps.
“KHOOTHOOLHOO!”
The smell.
The stench.
The putrid odor coming from that gaping black hell in his face hits me like a tempest, and hurls my soul against the steep cliffs of insanity somewhere between worlds. The sound of this tempest, the wind it generates, sounds like a thousand out-of-tune violins.
Then the screaming starts.
And it never ends.
It never ends.
Written on 2011/04/29 at 3 AM in a house in Observatory. Inspired by and dedicated to Henry... who died a week or two later. Rest in peace brother.
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