Alright,
So I've finally, sort of, kicked myself back into gear. This isn't saying much, as I wasn't that productive writing-wise even back when I considered my days not totally irrelevant to all other life on earth. For the most part, I feel I've learned to keep hold of my string of cheap pearls and keep etching away at the notebook, instead of feeling sorry for myself the majority of my waking hours. I don't expect you to know what I mean by that, but just bare with me, I'm technically still a teenager; I feed off of vague and borderline meaningless metaphors.
Anywho, moral of the story, this is the first piece I've birthed after a long hiatus and thus it's not of super duper quality. HOWEVER, I've read the thing over quite a series of times and I've grown kind of fond of the feel it delivers. I'd love to know if you feel the same....if anyone else exists out there..
anyone...
He awoke gasping, his lungs like claws
grasping for air.
It was a gas that filled his chest in a second and departed as if repelled from his body by some greater outside force.
His eyes darted about his skull in their fury to explain
this new setting.
this new setting.
Despite having only been conscious for a few moments, he could
sense the
stench
of the heavy atmosphere that
hung
over his body and was being
shoved out from his chest.
hung
over his body and was being
shoved out from his chest.
His body continued the panic as his spine and leg muscles
wrenched
wrenched
and writhed,
collapsing downwards when they were defeated by the straps
that held him
in place.
His body wrenched again, his movements increasing in
ferocity until
he heard a cry rise from beneath him
that bore a sound of a creature unknown
to mankind.
The cry turned into a blood boiling howl as his
struggle against his binds
fueled his panic and his panic
fueled his
struggle.
His throat and chest now seemed as if they were in flames, and it was
only when that fire
overtook him and his body
ceased
its convulsions that he realized
that the hellish howl had come from
within him.
His eyes strained and fought their sockets to gather in any
light, finding none -
save for a dull yellow glow that illuminated the odor
that hung
in the air.
He lay there, still. His surrender enabled him
to now sense the darting movements.
As his brain throbbed with adrenaline, his ears began to pick up
those whispers.
Whispers of the dark.
He could hear the evil breathing out of them, despite
not understanding the devilish
tongue.
He shivered as the voices grew
more harsh and
more violent. He felt hot,
putrid breath
petting his flesh where the skin had been sanded away by
his struggle
his struggle
against the binds.
The whispers grew louder still and became voices that carried
a rancid language;the sound
burning his skin.
But it was the
tongues.
Narrow and forked they reached out to lash his naked
skin, his eyes, his skull.
It was then, as he listened, that
his heart burst into flame
He finally understood
the words,
as they whispered,
"Welcome, brother.
Welcome to Hell"
