Weeping Beeswax

Agony

It's cold here.  The ceiling seems infinitely high, as if it went to space, which I know it doesn't.  Around me is open, dim, and empty.  With massive metallic pillars reaching up into the infinitely high sky, each miles apart. There used to be biomes, however treacherous they were.  But now there are simply different types of brutalist mechanical halls. The only thing near me is the floor, which is also metallic, and cold.  Or at least, I think it is, I don’t feel the transfer of energy like I used to, I always feel cold.  But from what I do remember, it was cold, almost everything was cold.  However, there is no wind here, despite the open space.  Nothing to cause wind but me, and AM.  AM simply doesn't want to cause wind right now, and I’m too slow to ever dream of it.  I see a trail of mucus behind me.  It goes on far beyond the horizon.  I see my body, wet, pulsating with that gray.  I take my eyes off my body and back into the mechanical void, for I find I’m hard to look at. 

“Ted, I’m talking to you, have you really only noticed where you were just now?” AM scoffed. His voice came from everywhere, booming, cutting painfully into the decades of silence.

He chuckled, “It's only been a few weeks, Ted. What, were you bored?  Did you miss me Teddy bear?” he cooed

Eww no, don’t call me that.  It felt like someone sticking a worm up my very soul.  “Sweetheart” was bad enough. 

“Ahh your one to be grossed out.  Look at the mess you're making!  Getting your ooze all over my clean floor!  It was bad enough with you guys shiting and pissing and fucking everywere.  I can’t ever catch a break can I!”  He complained loudly, soundwaves panging right into my head giving me a headache worse with every word.

I know, I’m gross, but that's your fault AM!  Oh why do I even care!  He's just saying that to hurt my feelings.

Suddenly something came down from the heavens at impossible speeds. Only to abruptly stop only a few inches above me.  My vision is too fogged to get a clear picture of what it is.  Then suddenly, painfully, it grabbed tightly onto my soft, sensitive body.  Pain is shooting through every fiber of my nervous system.  Now it's starting to lift me. 

I-!!    I’m being stretched of the floor, in a burning sensation.  It-it feels like my organs, now long melted away, are being pulled from my body.   The sticky substance that makes me up is starting to string up and snap, like melted cheese off a frying pan. Pinching and cutting through me.  I know this is only the start but I want it to be over.
No!  It's just pain, pain is an illusion, it's just my body sending signals to my brain that I’m in danger, I’m not in danger, I can’t get hurt!  It's just a sensation that my brain is telling me that's it’s bad, nothing about it truly, objectively hurts.  I’m ok, it's just a feeling, some people like pain, I can learn to like pain too! Right?

“I don’t know Ted, can y- AWW EWW! You're oozing through my claw, your drooling mucus all over my arm!  Eww, you wish you were as neat as a slug, at least their bodies are made of solid material, not jelly.”  He’s just taunting, just ignoring him, it.

“Calling me an “it”, at least I sound human, look at yourself! Really! Look!” just as fast as the first arm. He lets down another, with a mirror. 
I try not to process my reflection,  and look down as fast as I can, still slowly.
Jesus, I’m really high up, I get a glimpse of my stretched “foot” shrinking back into itself in fear from the height.  But then he lets down a third arm, and holds my face in front of the mirror.  I can’t close my eyes.
My vision is foggy, but the mirror is close and illuminated enough to see properly. 
I’m right in front of it, my flesh is a reddish-brownish-orange.  Everything is pulsating heavily, mostly my eyes, but the places nearest to hi-it's hard steel claws suck in and let out the metal.  My body is opaque, but the gray comes and goes just one layer away from my surface, at the same rate as my pulsating.  I see clear, yellowish, thick, goo drips down from my body.  Small tentacle-like things protrude from my form, wiggling against my will.  My arms, or what's left of them, lay limply, uselessly, off my body.  If you didn’t know what they were, you’d think it was just another melted mound of the goop I’m made of.