Spookyness

Itch

*By Nefarious on thenightmarehunters.com*

It started with an itch. An itch that needed to be scratched. 

Only two days had passed after returning from the once-in-a-lifetime, Amazon Jungle extreme hiking, backpacking, and river rafting "survival excursion". 'Tough Mudder on Steroids', or so claimed the online website; 'Real Life Survival Training' in the Amazon Rainforest; 'Not for Casual Tourists'; 'Health and Fitness Screening Required conducted to our Criteria and Standards'.....

 Yeah, that's for me. It had all the familiar symptoms of being right up my alley. I can do this. 

 But wow... was I ever NOT ready. 

I wasn't ready for 10 days and nights crawling through the primordial soup, slashing the vegetation, lost in the permanent semi-darkness, climbing trees to setup my hammock far above the predators to sleep at night.

Then there's the insects and snakes... the spiders... things that chewed on me, that I could not find a way to stop from crawling into my clothes, seeking my every personal crack and crevice. I thought I would go insane with the itching.

No worries; I'm back home now. Sleeping in my own bed, hot shower, cup of coffee, watching CNN to catch up - only to find nothing new. (no real news, nothing I really care about).

Then I notice the small red lump near my ankle. Itches like hell. I didn't remember it being so big earlier...

 Two more days pass as I try everything I can think of and the lump grows larger; golf ball sized now, with the skin stretched nearly to bursting. It's translucent and pale yellow, now. The skin around it is red and swollen, crimson lightning-bolts of infection spreading away from it in all directions. I need to go to the doctor - more like the emergency room. But I don't have any health insurance; damn... I just can't afford this. I'm broke; I spent all my savings on my trip. 

I need to do something. I can't take it; the itching. Feels like something is chewing on me from the inside, taking little bites, deeper and deeper. I walk to the kitchen and grab my sharpest knife - the ceramic-bladed paring knife that my mom had gotten me for Christmas. 

I setup for a self-surgery in my kitchen. Clean cloths, hot water, bandages, alcohol, and a super sharp knife.

 Whew. 

I sit there and stare at myself and my situation. Beads of sweat begin to form on my forehead, my breath starts to come in irregular pants as I pick up the knife. I can't really be doing this...

My hand shake as reach the knife towards the nearly translucent lump. I grimace, pause, one moment, two...

A sense of dread washes over me as the snow-white blade touches the lump. It seems to move - the lump deflated a bit, shying away from the blade. The stretched skin of the blister wrinkles as the pus sinks - almost crawls, burrows - deeper....

In a panic, I plunge the knife into the seething mass. Blood, puss, and ichor spurt out; as if I lanced a giant zit. The smell is sour and rancid - immediately I am reminded of the smell of the forest floor, the rotten plants, in the Amazon.

 Then...

...I notice the ichor is spreading, spreading in all directions - even sliding upward along my skin, upward against gravity. I watch in frozen fascination as the ooze seems to accelerate. Accelerate. As if seeking. ... Oh my God... 

It's moving upwards. Up my leg. I swat at it with both hands, smearing it, spreading it, distributing the slime as it seeks a new home. The pale ooze is on my hands now... still spreading... still searching...

Every orifice, every mosquito bite that I had scratched open, every tiny way into my body...

I am momentarily frozen in revulsion and fear. I look on in horror; as if I am watching a scene from a movie, I am outside of myself. This cannot be me. This cannot be happening

Dear God... it's burrowing inside me... each tiny little stinging itch on my skin. I know it's chewing its way inside me...