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Introductory Text

Falling Into The Abyss
The Author's Narrative Part 15 92nd Post Posted 27 June 2016 at 22:26:33 UTC Link to original

The person sitting in the big chair. New mother. A basement full of specimens. Glistening membranes. Blurred faces laughing. Tower witch monster mountain apocalyptic sky infested with winged things. The dream folds in on itself and spills out dozens of new creatures, images intercourse

Panes of light behind everything. Ragged muppet creatures tumbling out and chasing one another, devouring, bloody crunching. Growing panes of light. Galapagos critters howling, ingesting, affixing, lamprey succubus Voltron food chain formation. Panes of light: a persistent locus.

The window panes' persistence triggers reality. Rational bootstrapping. Persistence rapidly infects everything else. The weird Galapagos creatures die off, too weird to live. All the props of ordinary reality are rushed into place just before I open my eyes.

A sunlit window in a bedroom. Where is this? My new place. I rented it online before moving out of the sober house. This is real. I try to remember what I did over the last few days. The memories are a dark, shifting mess, a clinging mud I'm afraid to touch. Face hurts. My tongue finds cuts on the inside of my bottom lip. Brown spots dot the white pillowcase.

Picking my head up and looking around at the room, I recall it from the 20 sober minutes I spent here before going to the bar. Beside the bed, the nightstand has been tipped over and the lamp is a corded pile of shards. Shit. This isn't my stuff. It's just a bedroom in a somebody's house.

I slide out of bed. My stomach tingles, my brain tingles, my limbs are moving stroboscopically. Oh, wow, I am inside the nightmare. Mind-crucifying. Reddish spots make a trail along the hardwood floor. Fuck fuck fuck. I can't handle this. I run to the little bathroom, and a red-faced creature lurches into the mirror's frame. Oh, Jesus. A distorted mass of bruises. I turn this way and that to see my new features. The horrible tingling in my brain feels like it is going to eat through my skull. I check my teeth and my heart sinks. The bonding on my front tooth has been knocked out. The other teeth seem OK though.

I look down at the sink. It seems to have been scrubbed with blood. Swirling trails of reddish brown cover the porcelain. It's on the floor, the toilet, the walls. Oh, it's a lot of blood.