Bottle
My damnation came in the form of a bottle.
No, not like that.
When I was a child my best friend lived next to a little junkyard. Great place for a kid to hang out, a junkyard. Full of mystery and exciting discoveries, and if you find anything nice nobody minds if you take it, except your parents, obviously. Well, not my friend’s mom. Most of their bowls and plates came from that junkyard. But anyway.
One day a bunch of us were hanging out, dismantling a car. Some of us might have been interested in the parts, I just thought breaking stuff was great. When we’d got the engine strewn everywhere we set to work on the interior. Under one of the seats was a little glass bottle, full of some green, bubbly liquid.
Curiosity trumped hygiene in those days. I uncorked it and sniffed it. The smell was pleasant, minty, a little floral. One kid, Jackie, dared me to drink it. It was a double-dog dare. I had to.
The taste was also pleasant, and it warmed me on the way down. My body was filled with a strange, pleasant tingling. Nothing else happened, not until that night.
First effect, I couldn’t sleep. I haven’t needed sleep since. It’s all right. I get a lot done.
Second effect, a month later. I started to cough things up. I was playing alone in the woods and I hacked up blood. Then there were chunks in the blood. Then I was puking. The entirety of my coiled long intestine came snaking up as I sat there quivering, tears on my cheeks, struggling to breathe, literally puking my guts up. My mouth seemed to unhinge like a snake’s to accommodate my lungs. My heart was on my sleeve. The bloodstain would never have come out if I hadn’t abandoned the clothes I was wearing. The police searched frantically for a missing person, but never found a thing.
I wasn’t empty when I finished, though. New organs built up inside me. I could feel them, I could see them when I closed my eyes, nameless lumps and spirals springing out of nothing.
Third effect. Two months later. I began to crave the water. I can’t possibly describe the feeling of thirsty skin, but it was a desperate thirst. I left my parents’ house one night and walked and walked until I came to a swamp. I moved in. The murky, bug-filled waters feel like home now, as they did all those years ago. I sit under the water, watching the fish and salamanders get eaten by herons, looking at the surface waiting for my prey.
I’m sure you know what the fourth effect was. I’m typing this on the cell-phone of my latest victim. She was delicious. She smelled like fresh melons.
—
Credited to mngamojemo.
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This is pretty horrid stuff and not in a good way. Boring, poorly constructed cliches and horrible writing skills. I would suggest the author stop writing and do something they’re better at… like sucking dick.
…fuck, it IS Old Gregg…my Mighty Boosh obsession got into my pasta….
I’m surprised nobody said anything about this yet…
“watching the fish and salamanders get eaten by herons”
i am a heron
IT’S OLD GREGG!
Lovely pasta if I do say so myself. I rather enjoyed the humanity/monstrosity of the author until the end describing her scent. Something about that just gets me in a pasta. My compliments to the chef.
I didn’t think it was bad, then I read “she smelled like fresh melons” and burst out laughing.
Sweet. BD
Total nostalgia trip from the swamp-man ending. Overall nothing spectacular but it made for a good read.
All of the “effects” seem completely unrelated and useless. Fail.
OH HALLO THAR INNSMOUTH LOOK.
Well this was a nice pasta, but I couldn’t help it, that this had the reference to some old classic horror movie with a swamp monster snatching up a woman.
:/
Eh, it was a good idea but I think it could’ve been written a little bit better. It’s more entertaining than the last batch of pastas, at any rate.
that was really boring :( nice try though
Not creepy, but pretty cool.
alligators cant text u idiot
…Whut
….alligators don’t have thumbs, people… *facepalm*
Also, crocs don’t “drink” through their skin. They’re not amphibians. gb2/1stgradescienceclass
Started strong, but got worse and worse. I thought I was in for something interesting, but ended up with a pretty bland pasta.
heh heh doodle
“my heart was on my sleeve” Clever. Pretty cool pasta, I wish that more were like it.
That was just awful..
I liked it, but the ending was predictable. I think it would be cooler if they didn’t just start eating people, but started becoming more and more swampish.
I didn’t expect to see this on the mainsite. But then again, silly me, DAY OF ALL THE BLOOD got posted here.
eh…it had a good start but It would have been kool if the girl he ate was part of the story too..
this was dumb…
who drinks stuff you fins under old van seats in junkyards anyway?
it should have turned him into something worse & scarier.
THEN it would be a good story.
Old Gregg, the scaly man-fish! O:
LOl at gatorade. GREAT PUN. Other than that its a pertty good story
not actually scary, just quite funny
Very well written but the ending could have been better
Hrm…..don’t know if want. I live in the swamps, so I suppose my skin wouldn’t be thirsty, but on the other hand, I love to eat alligator………so would I love to eat me?
On the whole, I’d say this one could use just a bit more creepy. After all, gore/vomit/blood all make wonderful additions to any creepy recipe, but don’t try to use them as a substitute FOR the creepy. Other than that, though, it was executed rather well, and it kept me interested.