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Found the shit on my porch one night… Fucking ding-dong ditch or whatever. A little baggie with two blue capsules. And a stupid note with two words… “Do try”
I figured it was some shitty prank from my “experimental” friends from down the street. We’ve tried nearly every reasonable drug there is, trying to get the most psychadelic trips, maintain the best highs..
DMT, E, Acid, some experimental shit this dude sold me for wayy too much. Shit fucked me up… I tripped I was dust floating down from the ceiling. Lasted like eight hours. Fucked… me… up…
Anyway, the pills had like an orange 17 on them… Looked them up online, and couldn’t find anything.
I threw it on my dresser and crashed for the night.
I called all my friends the next afternoon. They all “claimed” they had nothing to do with it. “Wasn’t them”. I figured one of them would fess up eventually…
Over the next week, I pretty much forgot about it. None of my friends said anything, so either they forgot, or it really wasn’t them. I didn’t feel like mentioning it, we had some concentrated Salvia, so we lit that up.
The next day, curiousity killed me, I picked up the bag. Glanced at the note again… “Do it”… I swore it said “Do try” but I was high when I picked it up, so I dont know. But it entrigued me even more. I examined the pill. I reasoned with myself. I just couldn’t take it, it could be anything, but I was so curious. What if it was THE best high, the MOST psychadelic trip. I talked myself out of it. I set it down again, and I couldn’t help but feel like I was missing out…
The next few days were hell… I had a fever, and I felt like literal shit. Probably strep. I slept most of the day, but I awoke from the sound of my own heartbeat. My thoughts went instantly to the pill… I picked it up. It was practically calling my name. What the fuck did I have to lose. If I die, I die. I felt like dying anyway. For all I know, it could be some fucking antibiotics. I hoped for the latter. I looked at it one last time.
I downed it.
I remember “waking up”. The world was in negative. I was strapped to a chair, and these dark pulsating lights were eating away at my vision. I had no Idea what was going on, but I wasn’t scared. I was used to fucked up trips, but this was different. I felt empty. Time was moving backwards. Light was inverted. These dark lamps pulsing energy through my brain. A bass tone vibrating my body. I couldn’t close my eyes… I needed these “lights”. They were blackening the world. My world. The world where I resided and wasted time in the light. I finally understood. I was in the dark.
I started seeing the figures after what seemed like an eternity. Black masses of energy crawling towards me from every angle. I was seeing them in strobe. As the dark flashed, they crept closer and closer. I recognized them as friend. They were to free me from the light. Take me away from this white hell we all know so well. I wanted to go to them, but I made no attempt. I focused on the strobe. I needed them to move faster. To rid me of luminescence. Once and for all.
The strobe frequency slowed. Time started to speed up. The figures were stationary. The light was coming.
My cornea’s burned as the trip wore off. My emptyness enveloped me. The stobe was near out.. The figures no longer visible. I finally closed my eyes. Such a pale dark compared to true darkness.
When I opened them, I was in my bed. I shut them back immediately. I hated light. I hated our world. I wanted nothing more than to return to the chair. I couldn’t live here anymore. I couldn’t open my eyes. I reasoned with myself for hours to get up, to open my eyes. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t eat. I didn’t. I prayed for darkness. It meant nothing. I was in the white. The only way I knew to return to the black was the pill. I had one left, but I had to open my eyes.
My luminous mind was telling me it was just a trip. Don’t go back. Forget the abyss and return to normal life. The darkness was in favor. I didn’t want to go back, I needed it. It was the realization the world needed. But I didn’t care about the world. Only the dark.
Night came. I finally opened my eyes. Not to let the light in, but to get the pill. The last pill. As far as I knew, it was the last pill on earth. My want for darkness convinced me I only needed one. The figures would take me this time. I would forsake the light for the wondrous dark. I cared not what was in the dark. As long as it was unlit.
My body was weak. My eyes so adjusted to our world’s pathetic darkness, I felt as though I was looking at the sun. I needed the eclipse. I grabbed the bag. And without hesitation, swallowed the capsule. I would be home soon. I closed my eyes.
I “awoke”
I was back. Again in the chair. The dark was so comforting. Time moving the way I remembered. My frail body energized by the tones. The strobe showing me truths. The darkness was truth. I waited for the figures. I was confident they would take me this time.
Finally they limped into view. I praised them. Every strobe showed promise that I would soon forget light. Their movements were choppy and slow. But promising.
I urged them closer. Watching intently between strobes for their presence. They were getting close. I could feel them. Their pulses heavy on my chest. Our hearts beating in unison with the strobes. They were here.
The saviours were had arrived. They circled me. Crippled creatures that would transform my world. They opened my eyes to the dark, and closed them to the light. They held out their hands as the strobe slowed to a near stop. Everything was speeding up. I thought they took me. I closed my eyes.
When I opened them, I was in complete darkness. Beautiful, astonishing darkness. Every direction, an endless abyss void of light. This was what I had prayed for. Where I belonged. I never had to see light again. To open my eyes to anything but black was impossible. I loved it.
I got up to walk around my uncontaminated world. The dark Eden.
I stumbled over something. Something in the void? I felt around. This overewhelming darkness contained something familiar.
My old world.
–
Credited to Pill.
Posted 2 weeks, 2 days ago at 8:00 pm. 68 comments
A few years ago, I went hiking in northern Oregon with five close friends. Although we had planned the trip for months, we had no control over the weather, which had turned especially snowy and cold upon our arrival. Regardless, we decided to carry on with the hike. We were all quite experienced and well-prepared, so none of us really gave it a second thought.
The wilderness was stunning. The blankets of snow had given the landscape a dreamlike quality; it almost seemed like a crime to disturb the unbroken, white expanse before us with our footprints. As time passed, the sky became noticeably darker, while the temperature dropped even more. At -23°F, you can’t afford to leave any skin exposed for more than a few minutes. It really is amazing how sensitive the body is to extreme cold.
I had the feeling we were being watched. I would catch momentary flashes of movement or a brief glimpse of something pale in the underbrush, but I could never make out the form. It was unsettling, but I tried not to think about it. In any case, it was hard to think about anything besides the temperature, which had fallen to -29°F.
One night, I ventured out of my tent to urinate. As I approached the perimeter of a heavily wooded area, I saw undeniably human eyes staring back at me from the darkness. As soon as I saw them, they retracted back into the shadows. Spurred to action, I drew my hunting knife and ran towards where I saw the eyes. I sprinted through the blackness of the woods, chasing after what seemed to be a naked human form. After following the figure’s winding path, I found myself at a huge, blank clearing that continued to the horizon, where I saw a faint gold glow in the distance. The vacant white field before me seemed haunting, yet inviting. I knew the gold light was civilization. I had no choice but to go there, since there was no chance I could find my way through the woods back to the camp site.
I started walking. The frigid air pierced my layers and made me gasp for breath. The cold around me was almost dense enough to be palpable. Slowly, figures began to take shape around me. They were pallid, naked people that appeared to fade in and out of the air. All of them were staring at me and speaking in hushed, synchronized whispers.
Set yourself free…
I kept my eyes to the ground and kept walking. In my state of mind, I didn’t care about the paranormal phenomenon I was witnessing; I was worried about the cold. My hands and ears had begun to go numb.
Don’t fight the cold. Become one with it…
I blocked out their whispers. They couldn’t possibly be real anyway; I must be hallucinating from hypothermia. Is that possible…?
You’ve reached your limit. Now embrace the cold and be liberated of all limits…
I couldn’t help but smile. I wasn’t planning on dying today. I was close to death, but even closer to salvation. I looked up to see two lines of the naked, ghostly figures on both sides of me, all staring.
Don’t curse the cold. You can’t understand its beauty until you transcend the confines of living…
Ha! Don’t they understand that the confines are what give life value? Of course death sets you free, but that would be meaningless without the vulnerability you face in life! I shivered. At this point, my hands, ears, and nose were completely numb.
A new existence awaits you. One without fear or pain…
A gust of frosty wind stopped me in my tracks. The cold was agonizing, but I wasn’t ready to give up. I was the most tired I had ever been in my life, but I couldn’t lie down. Not yet.
Do you take pride in your weakness? Why do you fear invulnerability?
I don’t fear invulnerability! I would love to be freed from the shackles of mortality; to experience the world in ways I couldn’t in life! My vulnerabilities prevent me from truly living out my dreams…but no, I can’t die now. Suddenly, a white, naked ghost appeared in front of me with a grin on his face.
Then join us.
The wind stopped. Silence filled the air. I looked at the spirits around me. Unburdened. At peace. Free. My whole body was tingling with frost. I took off my jacket, threw off my gloves and hat, and pried off my boots. I shed every piece of clothing I had and I threw myself on my back. I gazed at the stars above me. Even as my vision started to fade, I smiled when I realized I was viewing eternity.
–
Credited to Dan.
Posted 3 months ago at 10:37 pm. 40 comments
In 1983, a team of deeply pious scientists conducted a radical experiment in an undisclosed facility. The scientists had theorized that a human without access to any senses or ways to perceive stimuli would be able to perceive the presence of God. They believed that the five senses clouded our awareness of eternity, and without them, a human could actually establish contact with God by thought. An elderly man who claimed to have “nothing to left to live for” was the only test subject to volunteer. To purge him of all his senses, the scientists performed a complex operation in which every sensory nerve connection to the brain was surgically severed. Although the test subject retained full muscular function, he could not see, hear, taste, smell, or feel. With no possible way to communicate with or even sense the outside world, he was alone with his thoughts.
Scientists monitored him as he spoke aloud about his state of mind in jumbled, slurred sentences that he couldn’t even hear. After four days, the man claimed to be hearing hushed, unintelligible voices in his head. Assuming it was an onset of psychosis, the scientists paid little attention to the man’s concerns.
Two days later, the man cried that he could hear his dead wife speaking with him, and even more, he could communicate back. The scientists were intrigued, but were not convinced until the subject started naming dead relatives of the scientists. He repeated personal information to the scientists that only their dead spouses and parents would have known. At this point, a sizable portion of scientists left the study.
After a week of conversing with the deceased through his thoughts, the subject became distressed, saying the voices were overwhelming. In every waking moment, his consciousness was bombarded by hundreds of voices that refused to leave him alone. He frequently threw himself against the wall, trying to elicit a pain response. He begged the scientists for sedatives, so he could escape the voices by sleeping. This tactic worked for three days, until he started having severe night terrors. The subject repeatedly said that he could see and hear the deceased in his dreams.
Only a day later, the subject began to scream and claw at his nonfunctional eyes, hoping to sense something in the physical world. The hysterical subject now said the voices of the dead were deafening and hostile, speaking of hell and the end of the world. At one point, he yelled “No heaven, no forgiveness” for five hours straight. He continually begged to be killed, but the scientists were convinced that he was close to establishing contact with God.
After another day, the subject could no longer form coherent sentences. Seemingly mad, he started to bite off chunks of flesh from his arm. The scientists rushed into the test chamber and restrained him to a table so he could not kill himself. After a few hours of being tied down, the subject halted his struggling and screaming. He stared blankly at the ceiling as teardrops silently streaked across his face. For two weeks, the subject had to be manually rehydrated due to the constant crying. Eventually, he turned his head and, despite his blindness, made focused eye contact with a scientist for the first time in the study. He whispered “I have spoken with God, and he has abandoned us” and his vital signs stopped. There was no apparent cause of death.
Posted 3 months, 2 weeks ago at 1:09 pm. 80 comments
I used to use the computer a lot. I would stay up late just surfing the web, playing games I’d beaten long ago. I guess it became an obsession. It got so bad that I would stay up till midnight just doing nothing. I tried to stop. Sometimes I could manage to go to sleep early, but lately I’ve never been in bed before eleven.
It’s weird, I never feel like this during the day. I can handle not being on the computer in the morning. I get lots of stuff done; cleaning up, studying, pretty much being a productive person.
But now things have gotten worse.
I started feeling really bad after going to sleep. It would hit me while I was on the computer that my eyes were really burning. Only when they started tearing up would my gaze be broken from the screen and realize I hadn’t been blinking. Weirder things started happening when I blinked too.
It started out harmless. Web pages would load real slowly. My mouse would freeze. Programs would start ending randomly. Nothing actually out of the ordinary. I would just refresh the page, reconnect the mouse, and press end now.
But it got worse.
I got on the computer one night to find it was completely shut down. I always suspend the computer when I log off, so this struck me as odd. When it started up again, it entered safe mode. After fiddling with the settings, I finally got it working again. For maybe two weeks things went on without a fuss.
I was browsing a blog, just slowly reading and scrolling down when a picture showed up. It was one of those awful pictures of a dead body, like, someone who had been in a car crash or explosion. It wasn’t a pop-up or anything. It was part of the blog. I was a bit concerned, the blog made no mention of this and had never used pictures before. I scrolled down so the picture was gone, and the blog continued like nothing strange was up.
I stopped going on the blog eventually. More and more gruesome pictures were showing up. I commented on one entry about it and was met with confusion. No one else was complaining. I wrote it off as some in joke to get rid of all the noobs.
Other sites I frequent are taking up this shock picture trick. It’s becoming a real pain. I’m starting to fear clicking on every link.
I closed internet explorer today to find my background had been changed to another horrible photo. I couldn’t help but recognize this one. It was one I saw in drivers’ ed of a particularly gruesome drunk driving incident. After resetting my background, deleting the picture I had apparently saved to my hard drive, cleaning up and defragging my hard drive, I opened the recycling bin to get rid of it once and for all.
I was a bit stunned. My bin was full of all sorts of random things I knew I never saved. There were porn sites, illegal downloads, pictures, e-mails, and other files with extensions I wasn’t familiar with. I cleared them all and decided I get some outside help.
I started looking online for any similar incidents. With no results I called Geek Squad, my Dad, and even brought the computer in to major dealers for a check-up. One large bill later, no problems were detected. Most even commented on how well kept the computer was.
The pictures stopped appearing, but I almost wish they were still the problem. My computer now displays everything almost as it should be. But now, whenever a person is displayed, their eyes are gouged out. It looked like a crappy Paint job at first, but they became more and more real. I tried showing it to a friend, but the computer worked fine when he was around.
I finally let my friend have the computer. He always commented on what a great machine it was when he was over. I’m glad to be done with it. I had just bought a much more updated one and after starting it up, I was very happy to see everything working normally. I decided not transfer all the data from my old computer to the new one.
Happy to be done with it, I close the brand new model. It’s only nine thirty and I turn on the television, knowing that I can get a good night sleep after Futurama. I lay back and turn up the volume to hear the opening theme. I recognize the unique little blurb they have, like what they do with the Simpsons; this is the infamous “dog” episode. I get ready to feel sad when my heart jumps.
Fry’s eyes are missing.
–
Credited to Rad.
Posted 8 months ago at 9:08 am. 130 comments
May 26, 2009
Hello Diary,
My name is Daniel Franklin. I just got this leather-bound beauty of a book in a garage sale. Its covers are smooth and black; the pages, yellowed and antique in texture—no doubt a detail I will become fond of as time goes on. Hell, I already like it. Gives the book a classical feel—such a delightful thing, don’t you agree?
But I digress. Today was just full of ventures to break the rut into which my life had sunk. First, I tried that new eatery on Eighth, and then, I bought this book at an old out-of-the-way garage sale in Eatonville. Such a kind old woman selling them, and the cookies she gave to buyers were just delicious. I may go back just to get one, if not to acquire the recipe itself!
Well, my cat Bartolome is keeping me company tonight, and I must cut this first, rather short entry to a close. I hope to update this with the memoirs of my life many, many times.
May 27, 2009
Hello Diary,
Daniel again. Today was as boring as usual. Even my favorite book couldn’t alleviate the cloud of boredom over my head. I’m starting to find my “best friend,” Mark, to be a tad annoying. Mark is nothing special—normal American family man from the suburbs.
Is there something wrong with me if I start to think some human beings as disposable? It earlier crossed my mind how uninteresting some of the robotic creatures I liked to keep in my company really are.
Ashley, with her endless list of pet names for her latest boy toy.
Stuart, his mumbling about the paranormal, UFOs and the like. Though his theories are interesting, they’re still about the same thing every day.
Is it really wrong to think of these beings as just packs of meat that shouldn’t have even been given a working brain? Death will be a mercy to them, once they reach that fateful day—
Wait, what am I writing? These are my friends; what the hell came over me?
…
Well, I did stop by that sweet old woman’s house today. We shared a plate of some of those delectable cookies with some tea, the flavor of which I just couldn’t place. Such a sweet old woman; it is too bad much of her family is dead or has forgotten about her. Her name is Susan Anderson, and her home is filled with so many curiosities from the ages of old, and it just fascinates me so. I must go back there again sometime.
I must pull this entry to a close. I am still asking myself how I could think such horrible things as I did about my closest co-workers.
May 28, 2009
Diary,
I am going to be rambling tonight. I woke up because of a….well, I don’t know if this was a bad dream or a good dream. I remember it so vividly, even though dreams have almost never stuck in my head since the days of my puberty, and many of them were less confusing and a little more…wet.
This one was strange, felt more like a memory than a dream, though before now I hadn’t been aware of such a memory. It was when I was barely five years old. I was the son of the town butcher. My teenage sister at the time loved me, and I loved her. I never knew she was sad in any way; she always seemed happy enough. I never knew her true thoughts. Even as I write this, I still don’t understand.
In my dream, I was toddling through the house, but, something struck me as being amiss. One of daddy’s knives was missing. I looked up at the wooden knife block, seeing the curious gap in the row of black grips. Daddy always said to tell him when there was a knife gone from his counter.
For whatever reason, I didn’t pay attention to his rule and continued on in my dream. Suddenly, I was pushing my way into my sister’s room. She was on her bed, her arms hanging off of each side of her bed, dripping with some dark red liquid. It looked almost like… juice.
I walked over and dragged my finger across one of the pools of red liquid before placing my finger in my mouth and sucking. It was not a pleasant taste… rather, it tasted like some of those shavings left over when Daddy sharpened his knives.
The rest seemed to happen in slow motion. Mommy walked in and found us, she screamed and fell on the bed over my sissy. I tugged on her dress.
“What’s wrong mommy? Sissy’s just sleeping… and she made juice!”
…that’s all I remember of the dream. It was chilling. I remember it, and I think I will continue to think about it. I can’t shake it. Is it an actual memory that I put behind me?
I can still taste the “juice” in the dream. It tasted heavily of iron… but also… sweet.
Continue Reading…
Posted 8 months, 1 week ago at 4:42 am. 88 comments
Have you ever wondered about what happens when you die?
Well, something does. Your body dies, but your conscience lives on.
The night you die, you will be in an eternal dream. You will live that dream for all eternity, and it will be like reality. Whatever you dreamed that last night will be what you are going to be “living” in for eternity, and you will never wake up again, in the comfort of your house.
Let’s hope you don’t have a nightmare that last night.
Posted 8 months, 3 weeks ago at 1:35 pm. 62 comments
Dreams are just your mind dealing with the day’s events, right? Nothing paranormal about that; everyone does it. I mean, there are places you visit often in your dreams. A certain house, a shop, a school… But these places are just figments of your imagination, right?
Have you ever wondered about these places and the people within them?
I know you’re out there, “lucid dreamers”. You’re the ones who can control what happens when they dream. You are just beyond that film, that membrane that separates us.
Lucid Dreamer, have you ever wondered what that beautiful woman in your dream felt when you suddenly decided you wanted to fuck her? Oh, she seemed willing enough, didn’t she?
Have you ever considered that you raped that woman, Lucid Dreamer? That she had no choice but to do everything you willed her to do while her mind watched on in horror?
Remember, Lucid Dreamer, all those awful things you have done in your dreams… And consider what those who call dreams their home must think of you. What they wish to do to you in kind.
I’m waiting, Lucid Dreamer, for those nights when your exhaustion keeps you from your power.
Oh, the things I will do to you then. Sweet dreams.
Posted 9 months, 2 weeks ago at 1:16 pm. 72 comments
FACILITY ARCHIVE RECORDS SEARCH - SEARCHING…
SEARCHING…
SEARCHING…
COMPLETE - FOUND 19 RESULTS FOR SEARCH TERMS “Patient #0017983″
CHRONOLOGICAL LISTINGS FOLLOW:
1.) ADMISSION FORM, PATIENT #0017983 - 11/18/05 15:12
Involuntary admittance requested by patient’s relatives in response to apparent self-destructive behavior cycle. Self-harm evident in physical exam: signs of past abrasions on head and neck, apparently due to self-inflicted scratching, and both fresh and partially-closed surface lacerations on arms and legs. Signs of extreme fatigue also evident - in examination patient admitted insomnia for, as quoted, “longer than you’d believe.” Patient unable to give exact time for length of insomnia, likely due to extended period of insomnia itself. Confusion and moderate delerium evident. PRELIMINARY MEDICATION ISSUED: Triazolam 0.25mg for insomnia, topical Bacitracin for wound care.
2.) ADMISSION EVALUATION, PATIENT #0017983 - 11/18/05 16:56
PERFORMED BY: Dr. Emil Lafayette. Self-harm confirmed. Patient removed dressings from arm lacerations, reopened wound while waiting for interviewer. Definite evidence of somniphobia in patient justifications for harm; patient refers to sleep with anxiety, and consistently acts against self to cause pain in response to lengthy periods of silence or other lack of stimuli. Issue of insomnia needs immediate attention, given evidence of exceedingly prolonged duration. Likewise possible agoraphobia. Patient requests an isolated bed, becomes withdrawn/agitated when request is denied, refuses to cooperate further with interview. Offers vague suggestion of hostile “other” in justification, but will not elaborate, as quoted, “because you’re not going to believe she exists until she hurts someone anyway.” Evidence for likely paranoid schizophrenia. Recommend further interview with full psychological spectrum testing for exact diagnosis. FINAL RECOMMENDATION: ADMIT PATIENT. PRELIMINARY MEDICATION ISSUED: Cancel Triazolam, instead 5mg Diazepam twice daily for insomnia, anxiety, and probable sleep disorders.
3.) FINAL ADMITTANCE REPORT, PATIENT #0017983 - 11/18/05 17:13
Patient issued bed in Room 409. Current occupant(s): Patient #0017802, Patient #0017983. Clothes from admission remanded to family of patient, three sets of common dress issued for immediate needs. Further psych eval scheduled for 10:00 11/19/05, determining future length of stay.
4.) WARD EVENT REPORT - 11/18/05 17:30
During routine new patient room check, Patient #0017802 places request with staff for transfer to, as quoted, “some other room.” Appears agitated, claims Patient #0017983 has been disturbing him. Patient #0017983 likewise requests transfer, to isolated bed. Both requests denied. ORDERLY NOTE: Followup room check suggested to avoid possible intrapatient conflict.
5.) WARD EVENT REPORT - 11/18/05 19:00
Followup room check. Patient #0017983 claims Dr. Lafayette has ordered him moved to Isolation. Patient #0017802 backs claim. Administration records demonstrate no such order. Upon informing room occupants, Patient #0017983 attempts to assault staff and Patient #0017802 becomes uncontrollably agitated. Additional personnel required to contain incident. Both patients restrained, sedated, forced into early lights out. ORDERLY NOTE: Exercise caution in all future room checks for 409.
6.) WARD EVENT REPORT - 11/18/05 23:57
Staff on Hall 1, Floor 4 report loud sounds from room 409 after facility lights out, disturbing other rooms and patients. Patient #0017983 found awake, extremely agitated and struggling against restraints. Demands lights be turned back on, as quoted, “before she comes.” Self-sustained injuries to wrists and ankles at points of restraint. Patient attempts to struggle against staff during trade to more comprehensive restraint, requiring additional personnel to contain incident. Additional sedation required for Patient #0017983. Patient #0017802 does not respond during course of event, likely due to sedation from earlier incident. ORDERLY NOTE: Maintain restraints on Patient #0017983 until further notice. Sedate patient before removing restraints for any reason. Recommend anti-psychotic be considered in future psych eval.
7.) WARD EVENT REPORT - 11/19/05 00:20
Staff on Hall 1, Floor 4 again report loud sounds from room 409. Patient #0017983 found catatonic on floor, with severe self-inflicted scratches on head and neck. Restraints are severed at connection points, with severe bruising on limbs possibly indicating more severe injury at restraint points with patient. Patient #0017802 is found deceased. Severe disfiguring wounds to face, complete with destruction (ORDERLY NOTE: Ingestion?) of patient’s eyes. Moved to room 101, locker 2, awaiting autopsy. Patient #0017983 transfered to Isolation, room 626, given injected dose of 100mg Zuclopenthixol on attending physician’s orders to control acute psychosis. ORDERLY NOTE: Recommend video observation to allow better control of future outbursts. Stay at least an arm’s length away from patient upper body restraints at all times. Just in case.
Continue Reading…
Posted 10 months ago at 8:03 pm. 138 comments
Sleep, strangely, is seen as the best refuge of the sufferer. You’ve never understood why this is; it’s the place where your subconscious has reign - that alien, unknown part of you that hides out of sight and has total control over your body. If anything, sleep frightens you. Having a stranger living in your mind, watching everything, capable of stopping your heart or healing your illness… It’s scary. Terrifying, even. And the fact is that when you sleep this person - this monster - can show you anything it likes. What if you’ve made this creature angry? What if you’ve done something wrong?
You’re lying in bed, fingers gripping the covers with white-knuckled panic born of too many scary stories and horror films. Of course, you’re well aware that in reality nothing like that happens, but the darkness grips your imagination and twists, wringing out all kinds of half-formed pictures of monsters and semi-imagined noises. Your breathing grows ragged, your pulse quickens, and a bang from downstairs makes you jump. There’s that brief moment of utter terror when countless scenerios of strange creatures and madmen run at full-tilt through your horror-drunken mind, where every creak is a new threat and you see things moving in the darkness.
And then it’s over. You calm down, remember you left the washing machine running. You relax, perhaps even chuckle nervously at your own silliness. Still a little shaken up, you go to turn onto your side, wanting to be closer to the wall.
There’s movement on your arm; the skittering, gossamer-light movement of lots of legs. Almost without thinking, conscious thought locked into a cage constructed of fear, you slam a palm onto the creature. It explodes, and you race for the light, flooding your sensitive eyes and momentarily going blind. The lack of sight exacerbates your childish fright, and by the time the black blossoms have faded from your eyes, you’re a gibbering wreck. You stare at the mess on your arm; a few limbs, a smear of guts and blood. Just a spider. Just a dead spider.
You let yourself calm down, wiping away the horrible thing with a tissue from your desk and sitting heavily on your bed, feeling silly now that the room is light. You’re not frightened anymore; just tired. Tired.
You drift off, forgetting the dangers of sleep. It doesn’t matter; nothing happens. At least, nothing happens until you start to feel a faint movement on your eyelids. It’s practically nothing, just a light pitter-patter of legs. Legs. Lots of legs. Your body reaches a conclusion before your eyes do, shooting upright and opening your mouth in a scream. You slap at your face for whole minutes, cold sweat coating your back, before you realise that nothing is there. You burst into tears, driven to distraction by the ridiculousness of not being able to sleep.
And that’s when you start to feel something prickling the inside of your skin. Your first reaction is more weary then afraid - your mind wants to know what now? What’s next? You glance at your hand, look up, glance down, freeze. Under your skin you can see legs. Legs and a little round body, skittering up and down your musculature. The more you stare, the more you see; there are hundreds of them, appearing and vanishing inside you. Pain flames and dies in your nerves as you feel little gnawing mouths everywhere. You open your mouth to scream, but no sound comes out… Just little, hairy legs. Pouring out of your mouth. There’s a popping noise as they start to emerge from your eye sockets, but you barely hear it; you’re more concentrated on the fact that your eardrums have been long since sacrificed to the onslaught of spiders.
You grip helplessly at the air, but there’s nothing to help you. You barely feel it as your skin breaks open. As you thrash and bleed, your lips pull back in some hellish grin.
Your subconscious smiles.
–
Credited to bez00mny.
Posted 11 months ago at 5:08 pm. 63 comments
