Trickling, warm, red, it is enveloping, pleasing, a fleeting sensation, it is like I'm where I belong. For how long had I been away? Why had I been away? Oh, I can't remember, was it another touch or another sensation that mattered? Was it? A blackened claw then pulled me from this pleasing existence and I found myself in a long and cold hospital hallway, was it an open window or something? I'd better figure out, the draft got stronger as I kept walking, the drafts whispers lashed towards my ears almost creating something that could be described as a voice "..r ..u.. ..u sh...d ha.e ...d". The room I just entered isn't much, an open window letting the cold whispers of the night into its rather sad and solitude presence. By the window there were vases, vases whith filled to the brim with red chrysanthemums, decorated with bright depictions of joy, they were forming a walkway, a walkway to the window and the cold night-realm beyond. Perplexing as it was I started to walk over to the window through the walkway of vases, have I been here before? but ".o.r f...t d..!" the whisper came behind me, catching a glimpse of it's red and distorted form before the push sent me stumbling backward out in the cold winds, falling.
Waking, I find myself by a desk in a rather familiar classroom, why am I here? Weren't I just in that room? Why am I here now? My 4th-grade homeroom, why? Why?
The morning sun is shining in, carrying forward the details of the room, like a mother carrying forward her children in life, but what was it? Why the morning of this memory? Wait, that weeping, was it that child? Where? The brown benzara across the room shook and tipped over, the previous whimpers were now evolved into desperate cries. Now even the morning sun's rays seemed almost fixed, like the entire room itself was isolated and the light was just like props, a part of a picture, an optical illusion. The banging and wailing from the collapsed closet were now unbearable to just listen too, I feel the wood splinters dig under my fingernails as I strain my muscles to lift the closet up again.As the closet gets propped up and opened, what meets my eyes is a shade, a red shade with the shape of a small boy curled up in the back of the closet, he looks up at me "did you come to save me?" the weeping was distorting his voice, but it was something, a thug at my heart, a deep pain being unearthed "yeah little bud I came to save you". The shadow embraces me, what's with these jolts of pain and images? no, no this can't be I got to get out! "Mister, weren't you going to save me? Save me from this agonizing pain" laughed at me by the mouth of innocence, no, wake up Chrys! Wake yourself up! It cant be anything but a nightmare, I've been happy haven't I?... burning hands searing the flesh at my wrists while images are being burned into my mind's eye, a solitary hospital bed, a dark room, and a quarry. Screams fill my head and my surroundings and it takes some time for me to realize that these tortured screams are my own.
My eyes open once more and I find my pained mind and body in a cave, it must be a cave, the floor is hard, even, and cold, and it is grand, so big that I can't even sense walls or cave ceilings, presuming there were any. I roll over and I gaze upon the floor, it was made by something with the likeness too shiny red marble. Was this no cave after all? Where did I find myself this time? The pain is almost unbearable, the flesh around my wrists was scorched black and the veins were exposed, the touch of the red shade had almost burnt everything away with one exception, the images burned into my mind.
I've risen up and I have walked, walked for what seemed like hours with a still backdrop, I could not help to notice how it all seemed futile, that none of my efforts would be awarded. The darkness of this supposed cave just stretches on and on, like a worm devouring its own tail. It was all quite sickening, but over there, was that a chair? Black and engulfed in bright dark thorns, it's sight inspired both allure and skepticism. And while I could feel the straight chill at my feet I could hear it, a humming from the darkness, a sweet hum that years and tragedies had long ago washed away, was it? No, it couldn't be, why would she be here? A push and a burning sensation knocked me towards the chair of thorns, I tumbled and fell into it. Thorns pushing and tearing the skin, and a sweet calming aroma fell over me, oh so he was back, that red shade, glowing in the dark in front of me, innocence burning away with every step, what did it want? Ah did it even matter? It was probably just another mad spirit or a leftover of the Vannluohg's curse, I should just end it here and wake myself up from this torturous abyss.
"Did you think it would be that easy Chrys? I guess you have yet to realize. You will now wake, but bear in mind, the realization will either be a curse or your salvation, either way, you will need it, to save me or yourself from the pending agony". Light? ah, its the moon, wait, why am I out here on the porch? What was that? Realization will either be a curse or my salvation? Either way, it is needed for the pending agony? How can a curse be needed? What do I need salvation for? Argh, I'm probably just tired and overthinking things. Let's see, I have probably slept for eight or ten hours since the moons up, ah I'm hungry, I guess I'll just eat something and go to sleep again.
There were some lasagna left from dinner, I decided to turn on the news while I was heating it up, what did the news-lady say? She seemed a bit erratic as she delivered the news, I didn't listen to what it was it was probably nothing important, I proceed to take the freshly reheated lasagna out of the microwave and to sit down at the couch, as the first piece of hot lasagna hits my throat I immediately choke. I could not believe my eyes as I read the bright headline being displayed right in front of me "Mysterious lights reported at a local church, entire parish found dead".
YOU ARE READING
Chrys Doe: The curse eater.
HorrorA restless mind, a chance encounter, and the consumption of tears left by this world and the next.