The darkness of my life never seems to change. Sitting in my salt container, hearing muffled speaking, walking, yelling, and normal sound you'd hear in a house. Sometimes I hear the cabinet door open and feel the small movements of the ground under me turning around. I hear the spin of the shelf and the grabbing of the plastic bags full of all sorts of different foods. White bread, bagels, and english muffins. Sometimes I hear plastic containers fall down. Followed by an annoyed sigh or yell from one of the four humans living in the 'unknown'. At least, the unknown to him...
The cold, pitch black container that is my unfortunate animate life. Why am I not like the rest? Why do I have to suffer immortality? Why can't be inanimate like the rest? What good could a living grain of salt be? Sometimes I can't help but wonder if I'll die when consumed. Oh well, guess I'll just have to suffer here for who knows how much longer until I finally can escape the hell that is my life. If I don't die after consumption, then I'll just suffer immortality for eternity. Well now that I think about it, that's literally the definition of immortality. I don't want to be immortal. I want my life to end. I don't want to suffer the pain of living any longer. What's the point of my unfortunate existence anyway? To just be consumed and suffer thoughts and feelings? I can't move. What use was I to anyone? These pathetic humans could manage if they lost one small grain of salt. Why was I cursed with this hellish existence? Maybe it would have been more entertaining if all of the other pieces of salt were animate like myself.
I took thought into that for a moment. I then settled on the fact that no, there was no way it would be better. It would be even more insufferable. I mean could you imagine over 5 million pieces of salt talking all at once for every second of every day? That would be hell on earth - or in this case, in a small box stuck inside a chocolate brown cabinet.
The sound of the cabinet door opening snapped me out of thought. I felt myself be shakily lifted out of the cabinet. Suddenly I left myself gravitate to the side of the wall of the salt container. Had they dropped us? I heard the thud first. A sudden beam of sunlight had entered the container as I fell towards the light. It all felt like it was in slow-mo, like time had stopped.
The pressure of the fall made me dizzy. My head was spinning - it felt like it was thumping out of my head. Like it was smashing itself against my scalp in a harsh attempt to escape. It felt like it was one hit away from escaping my head and flying someplace else.
I hit a wet and slimy surface. the texture was like something I'd never felt before. Not the most pleasant. I felt my body sink into this pool of dark red liquid, I felt my body stretch across this weird new place. It hurt. I felt the pain in every part of me. My body begged to be whole again.
I started to scream in agony. The pain was excruciatingly painful. Make it stop. Please... I couldn't handle this pain much longer. I continued to scream. Screaming the loudest I had ever before.
Sometimes I would scream when I was in my container. Begging a human would somehow hear his scream and pity the poor grain of salt. Maybe they would free him! Those fantasies quickly backfired. The sound of his bloodcurdling scream would bounce off the walls of the container and come straight back to him. It hurts like hell. But nothing, and I mean nothing could ever equal the same amount of pain he was going through at this exact moment. The pain was like none other.
My screams suddenly changed pitch. No longer was it and bloodcurdling, painful screit. Now it was a scream of pleasure. The original pain he'd felt from the disintegration of himself and turned into the best feeling he's ever had. He felt seduced by the blood. As he soaked more into the wound the better he felt. The more he moaned out in pleasure.
He would forever be in this body. The blood would continue to seduce him for the rest of his life. He didn't blind his end to be this way, it was better than being lonely.
"Ngh~! " He screamed once again as he felt the blood evaporate his body. He could stay in this moment forever. He never wanted to leave this moment. If he could stay in it forever he would without hesitation.
Unfortunately, this feeling of domince over him slowly faded away as he fully submerged into the blood of the poor 9 month old babies head. The baby was dead, no doubt.
The grand assault thought its last words - 'I'm glad this is how my story ends'. No sad depressing end, just a happy, fulfilled end.
Anyways, the baby is fucking dead bleeding out on the godamn floor. MORI WAKE THE FUCK UP YOU HAVEN'T SAID YOUR FIRST WORDS YET. AN DID I SEE ANY BUNGO FANS SAYING "Mori like Mori from the hit show BSD?!" I'M GOING TO KILL MYSELF. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. I GET THAT I'M FORM THE BAD FANDOM AND SHIT, BUT I JUST LOVE THE NAME MORI. HUSU IT UP YOU LITTLE SKITTLE MEGALOPOLIS CITIZENS.
