Immaculate Misconceptions Motionless In White

Tick Tock

Chris woke with a harsh jerk which caused him to hiss in pain as each thick scab on his back cracked and sent warm streams of blood down his back and into the dirt. He took deep shallow breathes through his mouth, swallowing the lump in his throat as his eyes gazed at the all too familiar ceiling.

Chris' head lolled back and forth as he listened to the intense whispering within his head. He felt delirious, the voices were speaking loudly and they just wouldn't shut up. His head pounded and a beat made it's way into the corners of his mind.

Alone, he spoke, almost sung to himself:

"I fall," He started, licking his lips and focusing on a spot on the ceiling, "This is the end of you..." The end... The end, where is the end?

"Whispers are their weakness... their weakness?" His eyes flickered off to the side, searching the darkness for movement. Their weakness? Their weakness was seeing Chris stay strong. He knew their blood boiled every time he spoke, every time he refused to stay down.

He refused to stay down.

"Everyday I must practice to fake this smile on my face..." He gritted his teeth as he pushed himself up, scabs on his back cracking along with the film that acted as skin for his burns which also peeled to reveal raw flesh that oozed clear liquid to preserve it's moisture.

"You can't break something that's already broken..." The corners of his lips curled slightly but he hissed as he felt something... something invasive press into his insides. The feeling made him want to throw up. He looked down at the small nub poking out of his side, "I'll let the blood tell the truth tonight," He decided, "This is my life's work..." Dirt stuck to the deep gashes in his back that bled and he whimpered as he scooted himself enough to lean on the wall, the shackles around his ankles weighing him down.

"11 tracks isn't enough to tell you how I've died inside... and love is lost like words," He swallowed and stared into the darkness of the room as his active mind fed him words, "In spider's eyes a man becomes a fly, in prolonged silence we all stand defiled..." His voice was beginning to grow louder, he wanted to challenge them... His heart was ready for whatever they had in store for him next. He was ready and you know what? He was ASKING them to come out.

Whatever they had in store for him next, he'll take it. Just like he took the lashes because in a way he felt like he deserved it. He couldn't exactly pin-point why... Maybe there was some built-up guilt inside of him that was eating at him, maybe he felt like he owed someone something.

"We fall in line with the atrophy of life, the calm before the storm is a deafening silence. I've given my all to this valley of despair you have created for me and I still have so much more to give!"

A door could be heard being yanked open and someone began talking to someone else.

"I am the damned! The cursed and the broken! I am the lost, the sick and unspoken, there's so much more inside of me! So the question is, are you up for the challenge? Because you STILL haven't silenced me! Your attempts have been petty and I can see the unsatisfaction in your eyes from the results. You've underestimated me and it makes your blood boil because you realize I'm not some worthless piece of shit that can just be discarded."

Blue Jeans, the Priest, and two men revealed themselves with furrowed brows. In their minds, Chris' behavior was getting stranger... It only confirmed their thoughts and now their plans were already in motion.

In what only seemed like seconds, they had Chris unshackled and fighting against them, a small trail of blood following them back to the contraption that held him down while he was whipped, they were sure to tie down his right wrist extra tight. He growled at them, sneering as they secured him and stepped back. The Priest began to murmur things while Blue Jeans approached Chris with a powerful stride and yanked his head back with a fistful of Chris' grimy hair,