Category : Books-Fiction

Sub Category : Horror

I wasn't sure where I was. But I couldn't see. I couldn't see anything. There was only darkness around me. Fitting.

"All…all alone," it sang.It rang out.

It was androgynous. Neither male or female; dead or alive. Just there. Everywhere. Echoing off the walls of my sanity.

"You know what you did," it whispered.

I swallowed and curled up smaller, wanting to run my fingers through my hair, my face, to wipe the tears away. I was wet, the tears were everywhere.. But i couldn't move.

"And you just sit there. You don't even feel bad."

"I feel bad," I whispered. My voice echoed, so loudly, but I tried to talk quietly…I was like the voice. Maybe this is all in my head... Darkness attuned any imagination to suggestion.

"I do. I'm crying." I answered it anyway, despite my own discretion... This felt familiar"

You're not crying." It answered again. It echoed within me, bouncing against the walls of my flesh, and expelled into the air, surrounding me in its evil.

"I'm wet." I echoed again, sounding distant, but everywhere. Everywhere distantly. I'm a puppet on strings, compelled to talk. Compelled to walk. Compelled to obey."It's not tears."

"What is it?"

"You know what you did," it whispered again.I swallowed again, my eyes darting around. Blackness. Nothing else. But I felt crowded, and claustrophobic. I was surrounded by the ghost of my sanity. I need to leave.

"No I don't," I said, loudly, but it was was fragile, sounding like the wind.

"What did I do?"

"LIAR!" it screamed."You don't even care! You know what you did!"

"Where am i?"I muttered. "Where am I ?" I asked again, more panicked. "What is this!? I screamed into the darkness.

"Disgusting," it hissed.

"You're disgusting. "You know where you are"

"I want to go home", I whispered "I'm tired of this game I want to go home "

"You are home" it sang , it's voice ringing out and chiming in. "Home-sweet-home!"

"Leave me alone. Please…i don't want to pay anymore"

"You are wining sweety, why would you want to quit now?," it crooned. "You are alone in the land of the living. You know what you did."

"I don't know," I breathed, wanting more than ever to move. I shouldn't move. I didn't move."I don't know. Tell me. I'll fix it."

"Broken beyond repair…" it laughed joylessly.

"You can't fix it. The clock has run out of time. The last grain of sand has FALLEN, my friend! It's over. You can't fix it."

"I want to leave. Let me go."

"I'm not making you stay."

That same slick, wetness rolled down my face again.

"I'm crying! Look! Whatever I did, I'm sorry! I regret! Redemption, please, I'm sorry!"

"You're not crying," it whispered again.

"I'm sorry…"

"TELL THEM THAT!"

A flash of light burst through the darkness like a strobe, and for a minute I saw everything. Bodies. Twisted, millions, hundreds, gray, lifeless corpses strewn about each other, on all sides. They hung on the ceiling; to look up I could see all their mouths open in this terrible, silent scream. They were at my sides, and to see their matted hair, rotting flesh, everything was so gray.

And ahead of me, directly in my face was another dead one. A woman, her mouth open an inch from mine, cracked yellow and black teeth and a white tongue, her face like cement, so thin, and she bellowed silently. Her black hair strewn all about, almost touching mine.Her skeletal hands surrounding me; a corpse's embrace along with the rest of her counterparts,everywhere, they are everywhere.

And inside her glassy white eyes I saw myself. Blood. There was blood. I was the blood. My face was slick with it, my hair dyed with the paint from their bodies, the crimson running down my face and my eyes in rivulets, my body was greased in their sacrifice, for me.I shivered and at that movement all their fragile, crumbling brittle dead bones brushed against my naked flesh.

I was naked so I had to feel them. Had to feel the rough texture of rotting death, and I looked down and opened my mouth to throw up. They were there too, I was on a floor of corpses, I was in a box of them. This one's mouth like all others' opened in a thin, shrieking scream, and my vomit went straight into it, keeping this dead wax doll forever tainted with sick.

The bodies fell on me, suffocating me in their stinking mass, and I laid in the center of my destruction, my murder, to obtain true knowledge of what the ultimate decaying passion is.

"You are alone," it crooned again as darkness fell and I was bombarded with the textures, the knowledge of sight, the smells.

"Alone for the living. But you will forever hold court here in the middle of your crimes. Wear your crown of blood and bones well. These sacrifices are all you have left."

And the voice, too, was gone.

It was right.

I wasn't sorry.

I never was.