Sylph Angel

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

I awoke to a putrid chemical scent. An eerie green glow blinded me, as my eyes opened to slits. Where am I? Dull pains emanating from my wrists, torso, waist and ankles became apparent to me. I realized I was bound to some sort of horizontal platform. Panicking, I turned my glance to my right. A flurry of red, on some sort of metal elevation. Is that a bed of roses? My bleary eyes refocused, and a grisly sight greeted me.

He was flayed. Bloody intestines piled atop his skinless abdomen. Where his chest should be, was a silver cylinder, with slits at the side. A heart, still oozing blood, lay atop this canister, vertical crimson streaks forming as I stared in horror.

"He's halfway done!" A childlike voice, high pitched, innocent, with a tinge of insane joy, rang through the room.

I jerked my gaze from the horrific sight, towards direction of the voice.

A ghostly figure clad in a cherry-spotted doctor's cloak stood beside me. The rough shape of it's body seemed like that of an emaciated person, yet something about it's ramrod straight posture seemed unnatural. It stiffly, jerkily, bent down, face inches from mine.

It's face was like that of a china doll. Chubby, shiny, and a sickeningly pale shade of white.

"Woahhhhh so SCARIEEEEE!!!"

Go away la you stupid nightmare -.-

kthxbai.

---

WOOHOO! Nice ending, huh? Pun intended. Haha, I would much rather dream of that pun... But the last time I dreamt that dream was over a week ago!

I really don't know now...

I feel dead. No, dead isn't a bad feeling. Dying feels bad. You know, the pain and stuff. But dead... Has a sort of calm to it. Like, I just feel so wantless, needless, carefree (excluding training :S), detached... Free. Is this what dying to self means?

CYA.

vεﯠαחƒőχ @ 4:09:00 PM.