We're All a Little Crazy

Torture

        "no no no no no"

Another blast of pain wrecked through his skull. He winced and curled into a ball on the floor.

"get out get out get out get out get OUT!"

"̡͖Y͖̖̜̰̱̮o̼̠̦̹̫̹ụ̜̺̗̯̝̱ ̘̼re̴̮͈̗͉̻a͍̦̜l̼̗̝͕̤͞l̳͇y͈͇̗͖̘ ͏̲̜͙̫̮͇t̡̟̰̳͖͉̩̠h̞̥͙͚i͎͙͠n͕k̡͕̮ ̴̰͕͙͖y̪̮ơu̱͉̳̞̜̖ͅ ̴͈͕̼c̱̣̱̥̣̗á̙͕n͏͚̯̩͓̤̬ ̛͎͙̙̺̪̱s͡t̢̮͈̳̱o̞̠̪p̖͖̙ ̻͎̥̪̰m̞̼̦̠̼̰̕e͕͖͈̬?̸͇̙̦͇ ̡̺̺̖̯̦͖̭F̖̼̫̼̮̮͝o̞̖̰̪͚o̜͞l̥͉̟͟i̻̘͘şh̯ ̪͖͙͈h̼̦̬̫u͈m̗͇͔̗̤a̯̻͟n̘̣͞.͍͕͕̥ͅ"̜̱̹̟̯̀

The man reached out for the bedside table and fingered a small, plastic container. He fumbled the bottle and shoved a pill in his mouth.

"͖͕̖͕͖W̮͈̹̠̪̜͙h͔̼ͅa̟̬̰̥t̘̩̻̳̹ ͚̗̗͘a̠̰̻͖̦̫re̝̰̥̩̦ ̭̩̘ͅy̷̹̣̞̱o͕͟u̡̫̖̰͓̰͇ͅ ̧̥— ̨ͅṊ͇o̻̰̥͔̤͞.͈͎̮̱ ̛Ṕ͍̫̳ͅU̪̜͇̘̭̮T͈͓͈͞ ҉̲͍T̖̦̩̜̬͚ͅH̖̱͕̝̪A̝͕̮̝̙͈̤T̡̻ ̮͇̫͞D̼̮̯̮̭̬͟O̝W͜Ṇ̢!̫̮͖̞̱ ̼̰̲͘ͅS͖Ṯ̲̬̞Ò̦͚̺P̫̲͎͚ ͔̬̼͕̖͕T̗̦̘H҉̣̟͓͓͔ͅA̘̱͔͚͈͠Ṱ!̼ ͈̪̠̫͙̖̖Ş̞͔̱TO̯̩͚͓͈̜P̶̰̬ͅ ͚̯͚͇̼̳̜͡ȚH͇A̩̻̻̦̞T̩͝ ̛̳͖̭N̲͔O̠̲͕̞͔W̱!͈͙"̙̹͞

As the stars flashed before his chocolate eyes, the man dragged himself into to bed and let out a weak smile.

And then he was gone.

He woke up, a throbbing pain in his head, his body hot. He stumbled into the bathroom and glanced at his reflection. Chocolate brown eyes, red around the edges. Dark hair, slicked with sweat. Thick, strong biceps shivering and weak. He hated seeing himself like this. He opened the cabinet and pulled out a jug, a syringe, a pocket knife, and gauze, among a few other things. Filling the syringe with liquid from the jug, he braced himself and stuck the needle into his arm and pushed the plunger. He held back a cry as excruciating pain flooded through him. The clear liquid gone, a black, syrupy substance pushed into the tube. He removed the needle, adding another jolt of agony. He took the switchblade and dragged it down his arm. The black substance oozed out of the cut. Stars dancing before his eyes, he shoved him damaged arm into the clear liquid. His body burned, every single fiber of his being screamed at him to stop. He was crying now. Blackness swirled around him. He chokes and coughed up blood. After what seemed like hours, the pain slowly faded, subsiding. The man gripped the sink, the cold porcelain bringing his back to his senses. He grabbed the water bottle and trickled the last drops into his mouth. Immediately he felt his strength returning, now that the black ooze was gone. The gash on his arm was gone, and he stood up. Picking up the syringe, he examined it. The ooze was thick. So thick, the needle had clogged. And it was black, so black, darker than anything, save darkness itself. A drop oozed out and landed on his knee. The man yelped and fell to the floor, the ooze burning away at the skin. Applying the clear liquid to the burn, the pain eased. He soaked the gauze in the liquid and wrapped it around his knee. Running a hand through his fiery hair, he noted how little of the precious liquid he had left. He would have to go to the chapel tomorrow to re-supply. Mark replaced the Holy Water and limped into his recording studio.Wow, long chapter today!As always, let me know about any errors or ideas.Buh-Bye!