my first attempt at writing since highschool
Morningside
Regular
This is based partly on my own life and mostly on a dream I had last night and alcohol (finally sleep 
)
Well folks, I'm officially fucked in the head. The last thing I remember before waking up in a pool of yellow vomit is having a heart to heart talk with a severed head. Let me explain:
I was having a good night, which is unusual for me. Most of my nights are spent drinking cheap malt liquor, browsing the internet for music and movies, and being depressed. This particular night however, I was drinking cheap malt liquor, browsing the internet for music and movies, and feeling quite good about the way things were going.
I had downloaded some of my favorite movies, and made a delicious pot of chili (I love chili and am working on making my own special recipe). The 6-pack of Steel Reserve malt liquor had me pretty drunk and for a brief period, I was happy. I had just eaten my chili, and was about halfway through watching Tetsuo: The Iron Man (highly recommended) when my cellphone started vibrating. I keep my phone on vibrate so that I can easily ignore it when I don't want to be disturbed. Anyhow, I picked it up to see who was calling. It was my latest ex girlfriend.
I sat there staring at my phone debating with myself on whether or not to answer it. I knew there was no good reason for her to be calling me. The last time she called out of the blue like this she tearfully asked if I would come over to her house. Being the gullible, lonely fool I was, I went with no questions asked. As it turns the guy she left me for had dumped her because she aborted his child. He was a Christian, and was highly upset about this. She would later admit she didn't know whose it was. Anyway, long story short: we fucked, she said she wanted me back, then left me again once her new boyfriend got his panties untwisted.
Back to the topic at hand, I was still debating on whether or not to answer when the phone stopped ringing. My indecisiveness had made my choice for me. I put he phone down and was about to go back to my movie when the "new voicemail" message appeared on the screen. I pushed the button and started to listen. I rarely check my voicemail so I had to go through a few bill collectors to get to the message. When I got to it, what I heard made my blood run cold.
It was mostly moans of agony, sobbing, and the unmistakable sound of a person vomiting profusely. There was only one word: "please." It was that one word that filled me with an indescribable sense of dread. In her voice I could sense the purest form of terror and desperation I had ever heard from a person. It was as if I could feel her terror when I heard her voice.
I tried calling back, but there was no answer. I thought about calling the police, but I'm more afraid of them than even what I heard over the phone. So I put on my shoes and started the walk to her house.
It was unusually cold for a summer night, but the alcohol in my blood kept me comfortably warm. I walked through alleys and sidestreets to avoid the police and a charge of being "drunk in public" (what a bullshit charge that is). When I reached her house I knew something was very wrong. It wasn't what I saw or heard, it was the smell coming from inside. It was like a mix of stomach acid, blood, and something else I couldn't quite put my finger on. sort of like an electrical fire, but somehow more organic.
I knocked on the door. Noone answered but I heard something moving against the door from the other side. I yelled to ask who was there, but the only result I got was a sort of slushing sound. I tried the door and it was lock. I turned around to go try another door when I heard the lock suddenly and violently click open.
I opened the door and was immediately overwhelmed by the smell I described earlier. When I entered I noticed two things: one all the lights and seemingly every other electrical device in the house was turned on, and two, despite my hearing someone inside, noone was there.
I called out "hello" with some difficulty, as it was hard not to gag from the smell. No answer. As I walked to around I noticed the smell seemed to be coming from the bathroom. The bathroom door was cracked open and the flourescent light coming from inside was seemingly brighter than the rest of the house. I wasn't sure I really wanted to see what was inside, but emboldened by alcohol I pushed the door open.
Now I had thought that through all my years of watching horror movies, and death videos online that I was desensitized to everything, and nothing could get to me. I was in no way prepared for this.
She was lying on the floor barely clinging to life. The walls, the floor, even bits of the ceiling were covered in gore. Her body was emaciated and her skin was so dry it cracked under my touch. had there been enough blood left in her body, it would have bled. It was as if she had vomited out every drop of blood and moisture in her body. She opened her eyes and just as she looked up at me, a torrent of blood issued from her mouth and she was dead.
I'm not sure how long I sat there, covered in her blood. I don't know what I was thinking about, if I indeed had any thoughts at all. My trance was broken by a noise coming from the basement door. It wasn't very loud, but it was loud enough to startle me. It sounded like the drone of a cicada, with a metallic sort of tone.
For whatever reason I decided to follow the noise. Stupid. When I opened the door there was a wave of heat and that horrible organic-electrical smell. Unlike the rest of the house there were no lights on down there. They didn't even turn on when I flipped the switch. I fumbled around in the darkness for a few moments, and as my eyes adjusted I noticed a faint luminescence coming from a table on the other side of the basement.
The glow was coming from a row of metal canisters lined up on the table, the light somehow being produced by the metal itself. On the sides of the canisters were hexagonal knobs. Again, for whatever reason I turned one. A terrible pain spread throughout my head, as if my brain had been pierced by hundreds of white hot needles. I writhed in agony on the floor, screaming but unable to hear myself. Then suddenly the pain stopped.
I still could not hear anything from the outside world, not my own breath, not the blood rushing in my ears, just, and I know this is weird but bear with me for a second, just the incessant meowing of a cat. It was the sort of meowing that a cat makes when you keep it locked up in a room too long and it wants out, low, drawn out, and mournful. In my head I though "what the fuck" and the tone of the cats meowing changed, as if excited by the prospect of being let out. Fuck that, I turned the knob back and was returned to (ha!) reality.
I think I already knew what to expect when I unscrewed the top of the canister. I took off the top and looked inside, it was, of course a cats head. It was black and white and I remembered seeing it around from time to time. Only at this point did I start to really wake up from my shock and wonder exactly what the fuck was going on here. As I was standing there looking at this cat head I heard that metallic insectoid noise coming from just a few feet away. I nearly shat myself. It was only there for a few moments before it faded away, seemingly becoming more distant, despite the fact that to move away in the distance it seemed to be moving it would have to go through the wall.
Before I could react, I had the same feeling as when I turned the knob on the canister, only this time the pain only lasted a fraction of a second.
to be continued...
)Well folks, I'm officially fucked in the head. The last thing I remember before waking up in a pool of yellow vomit is having a heart to heart talk with a severed head. Let me explain:
I was having a good night, which is unusual for me. Most of my nights are spent drinking cheap malt liquor, browsing the internet for music and movies, and being depressed. This particular night however, I was drinking cheap malt liquor, browsing the internet for music and movies, and feeling quite good about the way things were going.
I had downloaded some of my favorite movies, and made a delicious pot of chili (I love chili and am working on making my own special recipe). The 6-pack of Steel Reserve malt liquor had me pretty drunk and for a brief period, I was happy. I had just eaten my chili, and was about halfway through watching Tetsuo: The Iron Man (highly recommended) when my cellphone started vibrating. I keep my phone on vibrate so that I can easily ignore it when I don't want to be disturbed. Anyhow, I picked it up to see who was calling. It was my latest ex girlfriend.
I sat there staring at my phone debating with myself on whether or not to answer it. I knew there was no good reason for her to be calling me. The last time she called out of the blue like this she tearfully asked if I would come over to her house. Being the gullible, lonely fool I was, I went with no questions asked. As it turns the guy she left me for had dumped her because she aborted his child. He was a Christian, and was highly upset about this. She would later admit she didn't know whose it was. Anyway, long story short: we fucked, she said she wanted me back, then left me again once her new boyfriend got his panties untwisted.
Back to the topic at hand, I was still debating on whether or not to answer when the phone stopped ringing. My indecisiveness had made my choice for me. I put he phone down and was about to go back to my movie when the "new voicemail" message appeared on the screen. I pushed the button and started to listen. I rarely check my voicemail so I had to go through a few bill collectors to get to the message. When I got to it, what I heard made my blood run cold.
It was mostly moans of agony, sobbing, and the unmistakable sound of a person vomiting profusely. There was only one word: "please." It was that one word that filled me with an indescribable sense of dread. In her voice I could sense the purest form of terror and desperation I had ever heard from a person. It was as if I could feel her terror when I heard her voice.
I tried calling back, but there was no answer. I thought about calling the police, but I'm more afraid of them than even what I heard over the phone. So I put on my shoes and started the walk to her house.
It was unusually cold for a summer night, but the alcohol in my blood kept me comfortably warm. I walked through alleys and sidestreets to avoid the police and a charge of being "drunk in public" (what a bullshit charge that is). When I reached her house I knew something was very wrong. It wasn't what I saw or heard, it was the smell coming from inside. It was like a mix of stomach acid, blood, and something else I couldn't quite put my finger on. sort of like an electrical fire, but somehow more organic.
I knocked on the door. Noone answered but I heard something moving against the door from the other side. I yelled to ask who was there, but the only result I got was a sort of slushing sound. I tried the door and it was lock. I turned around to go try another door when I heard the lock suddenly and violently click open.
I opened the door and was immediately overwhelmed by the smell I described earlier. When I entered I noticed two things: one all the lights and seemingly every other electrical device in the house was turned on, and two, despite my hearing someone inside, noone was there.
I called out "hello" with some difficulty, as it was hard not to gag from the smell. No answer. As I walked to around I noticed the smell seemed to be coming from the bathroom. The bathroom door was cracked open and the flourescent light coming from inside was seemingly brighter than the rest of the house. I wasn't sure I really wanted to see what was inside, but emboldened by alcohol I pushed the door open.
Now I had thought that through all my years of watching horror movies, and death videos online that I was desensitized to everything, and nothing could get to me. I was in no way prepared for this.
She was lying on the floor barely clinging to life. The walls, the floor, even bits of the ceiling were covered in gore. Her body was emaciated and her skin was so dry it cracked under my touch. had there been enough blood left in her body, it would have bled. It was as if she had vomited out every drop of blood and moisture in her body. She opened her eyes and just as she looked up at me, a torrent of blood issued from her mouth and she was dead.
I'm not sure how long I sat there, covered in her blood. I don't know what I was thinking about, if I indeed had any thoughts at all. My trance was broken by a noise coming from the basement door. It wasn't very loud, but it was loud enough to startle me. It sounded like the drone of a cicada, with a metallic sort of tone.
For whatever reason I decided to follow the noise. Stupid. When I opened the door there was a wave of heat and that horrible organic-electrical smell. Unlike the rest of the house there were no lights on down there. They didn't even turn on when I flipped the switch. I fumbled around in the darkness for a few moments, and as my eyes adjusted I noticed a faint luminescence coming from a table on the other side of the basement.
The glow was coming from a row of metal canisters lined up on the table, the light somehow being produced by the metal itself. On the sides of the canisters were hexagonal knobs. Again, for whatever reason I turned one. A terrible pain spread throughout my head, as if my brain had been pierced by hundreds of white hot needles. I writhed in agony on the floor, screaming but unable to hear myself. Then suddenly the pain stopped.
I still could not hear anything from the outside world, not my own breath, not the blood rushing in my ears, just, and I know this is weird but bear with me for a second, just the incessant meowing of a cat. It was the sort of meowing that a cat makes when you keep it locked up in a room too long and it wants out, low, drawn out, and mournful. In my head I though "what the fuck" and the tone of the cats meowing changed, as if excited by the prospect of being let out. Fuck that, I turned the knob back and was returned to (ha!) reality.
I think I already knew what to expect when I unscrewed the top of the canister. I took off the top and looked inside, it was, of course a cats head. It was black and white and I remembered seeing it around from time to time. Only at this point did I start to really wake up from my shock and wonder exactly what the fuck was going on here. As I was standing there looking at this cat head I heard that metallic insectoid noise coming from just a few feet away. I nearly shat myself. It was only there for a few moments before it faded away, seemingly becoming more distant, despite the fact that to move away in the distance it seemed to be moving it would have to go through the wall.
Before I could react, I had the same feeling as when I turned the knob on the canister, only this time the pain only lasted a fraction of a second.
to be continued...
Comments
Yeah, I plan on rewriting this one at least once or twice. Its sort of like practice so that I can get used to writing again.