abstrect-christ Posted March 18, 2011 Share Posted March 18, 2011 (edited) Obsidide transformations, transluscent transferescence. A hole in the wall mall for a third mall from the sun generation. It all started here... hour after minute, thirteen, fifteen, seventeen; if only I lived like them, rock less of a devil. Subliminal messages clear in image and sound. Courts wouldn't have to prove anything cause' the morphine already made it acceptable and normal. Such a simple life; how I wanted it so bad! My first: The terrorizing Horrors that unveiled under a curtain of serpintax manipulations. (if only I could weep the bitching sounds of 'woe is me.') There I was: "So where do you want me?" Blood storming my cheeks. "What do you mean?" Oh -- my -- god what have I done?! The half naked innocence a husk of its former self I could see its throat, the holes in which I bowled her life to scattered pins. The muscle beneath; my thoughts a betrayal at her flipped skirt, but no. The skin under my nails was more important. God could only help the next few -- or accept them as tokens for entry to a haven as set between demons and saviors. (either one sounded plausible;) albeit, route would no doubt be a wreckage of bone and corpse the likes of George A. Romero. I changed my method after the second, had fun with my scenes -- created a migraine from -- my grain -- for the police to puzzle over. For me, no, the police, I can't tell which is which anymore. Not like it matters right? (dark humor, see? I'm not that much villainous as the guy next to you.) A psychopath! Is what they quoted. (not like it wasn't true from a psychological point after all;) only difference between psychology of science and religion is that one I can repair and one not. (ha! Still gives me a chuckle -- even now) Of children twelve to sixteen acting as my Art. I had not seen such horrors as these now -- It started with a chance circus, as I was scouting for a canvas. Mystic Bellavious was his name, or was it a her-- It had been as old as my first victim, imagine what she would have looked like today? The psychic had silver hair, eyes as blue as any coral sea, a voice that of a smoking victim of the fifties. It saw right through me! Where am I?! The room wasn't even of such substance! A void?! That sound... "stop it!" It did, then it freights closer; waves disrupting, my frontal lobe replaced with needles. Then came the winds. The knives upon the hard surface of the atmosphere had condensed and flattened my lungs. The wind Wooshed it back upon my cells. Heaven among what seemed so natural... "hahahahaha..." bassed in all halves of this place. "Your a monster!," "pervert!," "kill it!," "psycho!" Different voices echo Judging me! Senses came aware of a crushing presence, couldn't -- spe- Incoherence taking up vision. Crimson fountains of my neck, rigor mortisiated state. Lucid butterfly's trail toward me, hearing ever push of frequency in the void; the familiar laugh breaks the waves splintering the trail of wings. 'Why am I here?!' Acknowledgment a shot of steel. Turning to flies, the wingless butterflies swarm blocking my vision; feeling sharp hooks pierce my face, flies legs burning my eyes. If I had been able to, pupils would be veiled. If I could speak, as I try, I would be screaming for my life. Now to answer your question of a worse Horror as my deeds and my travelings to such a place as this... Esophagus an open maw, the flies unblinding me, choking me, infecting my lungs like cancer of an ethereal sort. Burning! The cells on fire. "Look..." forced to anyways. Strapped, could feel the hooks dig, scraping the bone; vibrating the lobe and medulla every lunge from my blackjacket infected lungs. "The camera will make you god..." It says with a grin you can feel. 'No!' Every crime, every teenager, every slash, every finger lay upon projected in front of me! Torturing-- maiming! Bone completely scraped I can feel them digging into meat, replacing pins with talons; these images one after the other again and again. Please help me... the Horrors are far too much. Please, please! he- "Can you feel my grin?" by Jeremy Swyck (05/06/08) Edited March 21, 2011 by abstrect-christ Quote Pinhead "Unbearable, isn't it? The suffering of strangers, the agony of friends. There is a secret song at the center of the world, Joey, and its sound is like razors through flesh." Joey "I don't believe you." Pinhead "Oh come, you can hear its faint echo right now. I'm here to turn up the volume. To press the stinking face of humanity into the dark blood of its own secret heart." "There's a starving beast inside my chestplaying with me until he's boredThen, slowly burying his tusks in my fleshcrawling his way out he rips open old woundsWhen I reach for the knife placed on the bedside tableits blade reflects my determined faceto plant it in my chestand carve a hole so deep it snaps my veinsHollow me out, I want to feel empty"-- "Being Able To Feel Nothing" by Oathbreakerhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aBPy3xNwwL8 "Sky turns to a deeper grey the sun fades by the moon hell's come from the distant hills tortures dreams of the doomed and they pray, yet they prey and they pray, still they prey"-- "Still They Prey" by Coughhttps://soundcloud.com/relapserecords/sets/cough-still-they-pray Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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