Glisten (Welcome to the Blumhouse)

Glisten

I'd quake in the turbulent winters with nothing but a cotton shirt and a pair of olive shorts, not even a sock on one foot. My toes burned, mulberry and cerulean patched gradients running atop my sodden skin. My muscles ached from the constant trembling, nearly every limb numb from the biting cold. Each breath was fire, the shallow inhales still throbbing my lungs.

I was afraid, because I knew I heard it. The cacophonous bellows and screeches, marges of roughened cries and indubitable pleas. I felt as if my ribcage would burst open, as if a murder of crows were floundering within me, and finally they'd be set free, but there would be no relief because I would be dying in a subsiding pile of mangled limbs.

God knows why I trudged around the snow-glistened trees, the pearly white ether I forced myself to venture. Whoever they were sounded helpless, soughing for help of fleeing inconceivable torment; it was my calling to give a helping hand. I'm bound to get lost in this infinite wilderness, once again.

The clouded facet above my head began to dim, paled beryl and yon orange fading into the distance, the sun setting to the west. I've been out too long, but I can feel the ominous presence of hindering, I'm getting closer.

Onward, an acrid stench assaulted my senses, and I staggered backwards with stiff bones. My eyes watered, the sickly sweet effluvium churning my stomach, nerves turning my gut into a hostile tidal wave of consternation and repulsion. No matter what my mind spoke, my feet took forth, stepping into unknown boundaries and soon-to-be notable peril.

Before me was a mass of decayed mess, entangled bodies and rotting flesh, a hierarchy of dissembled corpses, ranging from freshly composed to nothing but skeletons. I will never forget the slanted skull, a sunken crater of hair and blackened skin. I had no reaction, just the failed support of my muscles, a foreign weight pitting in my knees and shoulders. My eyes were scavenging for remnants of life, unfocused, all of it nothing but an image. I was convinced a finger had twitched, but it was simply a mirage in my profound incredulity. I no longer felt in touch with time, no longer held on by the world's gravity; weightless.

I heard the soft snap of the earth's cluttering, my head slowly turning to the side. It was a girl, she pivoted, nearly gleeful, garbed in soft furs of white, blonde hair neatly folded against her back. Her skin glistened, refulgent eyes of scintillating charcoal. She was the girl who took me in from the dire weather, sheltered all of us girls. I shuddered, heart strumming within the cavity in my chest.

"Isn't it beautiful, their skin is... marbled with amethyst." She plucked something from a body, and placed it on her tongue like a jovial kid with candy, mouth salivating at the sight of saccharide delicacies. Her eyes no longer seemed so bright.