The figure stood tall, the tip of its fedora hat only just missing the moist ceiling as it approached the bath. It moved without step, gliding with an unnerving slithering across the black and white chequered floor, its legs hidden by the long, heavily stained trench coat. The collar of the coat was pulled up, hiding the visitor’s facial features, all that showed were the eyes, black and abyss-like. They reflected the image of Darren, his naked scrawny body partly submerged in the bath water. As the figure moved closer towards Darren’s still body, the reflection that viewed like a movie in an empty movie theatre pulled in closer to Darren’s upper torso and his head. As Darren’s eyes came into focus, his dilated pupils moved to look directly at the intruder that now stood over him. The waterfall that his drugged mind had perceived shrank suddenly, dragging Darren back to the surface, back to his reality.
Darren’s brain screamed inside his skull, but that was as far as the scream got. His senses exploded with repulsion, the smell wanted to make him vomit, the sickly presence that invaded his personal space made his skin crawl. But he could not react, no muscle operated, no limb moved and no sound came out. Only his eyes could move and all he could see was the horror that stood over him. As he laid in the now suddenly cold bath, naked and prone, all he could do was stare at the figure above him. His internal dialogue begging for his life, knowing it made no difference as whatever stood over him could not hear his pleas. The figure just stood and stared at the pitiful man below him and did not move. Under the trench coat, things slithered and moved, making strange bulges across the visitor’s chest and back. Darren’s mind tried to reason with itself, the rational part saying that his enemies had finally found him and his life would end soon, very soon. But then the part of his mind that told him to fear the dark screamed out at him and took control. This was not human, not even earthly, this was his demon that had come for him. His deeds, his sins were now to be accounted for. He had destroyed his life and all those who had given a damn about him. Through his addiction he had condemned himself, not just to death, to Hell. The drugs… “Wait” his thoughts told him, It’s a hallucination, just a hallucination. His face twitched into a manic smile with the realisation. In the maelstrom of his mind, Darren suddenly felt like he had hit the eye of a storm and peace descended over him. His thoughts moved with ease and took only moments for long thoughts to process. His suddenly clear head analysed the figure above him, he could see it now, his mind understood the horror that affronted him with a sense of calm. Even though his mind took in and understood the horror, his thoughts acted like he was casually sight-seeing. Slowly the figure raised an arm over Darren, extending gangling fingers. As the figure moved the collars of trench coat fell away revealing the face that was hidden beneath. Darren screamed.
The figure stood tall, the tip of its fedora hat only just missing the moist ceiling as it approached the bath. It moved without step, gliding with an unnerving slithering across the black and white chequered floor, its legs hidden by the long, heavily stained trench coat. The collar of the coat was pulled up, hiding the visitor’s facial features, all that showed were the eyes, black and abyss-like. They reflected the image of Darren, his naked scrawny body partly submerged in the bath water. As the figure moved closer towards Darren’s still body, the reflection that viewed like a movie in an empty movie theatre pulled in closer to Darren’s upper torso and his head. As Darren’s eyes came into focus, his dilated pupils moved to look directly at the intruder that now stood over him. The waterfall that his drugged mind had perceived shrank suddenly, dragging Darren back to the surface, back to his reality.
Darren’s brain screamed inside his skull, but that was as far as the scream got. His senses exploded with repulsion, the smell wanted to make him vomit, the sickly presence that invaded his personal space made his skin crawl. But he could not react, no muscle operated, no limb moved and no sound came out. Only his eyes could move and all he could see was the horror that stood over him. As he laid in the now suddenly cold bath, naked and prone, all he could do was stare at the figure above him. His internal dialogue begging for his life, knowing it made no difference as whatever stood over him could not hear his pleas. The figure just stood and stared at the pitiful man below him and did not move. Under the trench coat, things slithered and moved, making strange bulges across the visitor’s chest and back. Darren’s mind tried to reason with itself, the rational part saying that his enemies had finally found him and his life would end soon, very soon. But then the part of his mind that told him to fear the dark screamed out at him and took control. This was not human, not even earthly, this was his demon that had come for him. His deeds, his sins were now to be accounted for. He had destroyed his life and all those who had given a damn about him. Through his addiction he had condemned himself, not just to death, to Hell. The drugs… “Wait” his thoughts told him, It’s a hallucination, just a hallucination. His face twitched into a manic smile with the realisation. In the maelstrom of his mind, Darren suddenly felt like he had hit the eye of a storm and peace descended over him. His thoughts moved with ease and took only moments for long thoughts to process. His suddenly clear head analysed the figure above him, he could see it now, his mind understood the horror that affronted him with a sense of calm. Even though his mind took in and understood the horror, his thoughts acted like he was casually sight-seeing. Slowly the figure raised an arm over Darren, extending gangling fingers. As the figure moved the collars of trench coat fell away revealing the face that was hidden beneath. Darren screamed.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
He lay in the bath staring at the ceiling through wisps of steam, while his mind was trying to explain his earlier experiences. At the time it all seemed so real, but now it looked like the drugs and his own paranoia were becoming partners in the reality game. Monsters don’t exist, not in the real world he hated so much. The hot water did its best to relax his tense body, but his mind was still working overtime. He thought about needing more heroin, his death on someones agenda and why in Hell’s name had he hallucinated those creatures in all their sickly glory. His head started to hurt and his muscles started to twitch and convulse as his body and mind cried out for another hit. Darren dragged himself out of the bath and walked into the other room, leaving a trail of wet footprints across the threadbare carpet. He picked up the various tools and supplies for his temporary escape. He placed the tools and substance of his addiction on a chair by the bath, and began the preparation for loading the syringe. He stepped back into the bath and slid into the warm comforting water. He reached over for his belt, and tied his arm ready for the delivery. This was the last of his stash, after this it is either face those who he has crossed or face cold turkey. He would face that bridge later – for now he could escape once more.
He found a vein amongst the various pinpricks trailing along his arm. They looked like a highlighted journey on a map, except the map got you nowhere good in the end. Picking up the syringe, he flicked it, making sure there were no air bubbles. Get one in your bloodstream and it could kill you. He considered the irony, if that finished him off. He found the spot, feeling the point of the needle on his skin. He applied force and the needle went in cleanly. He pressed the plunger and the brown liquid shot into the vein, to mingle with the weak red blood that flowed through him, keeping him alive. The hit was almost instantaneous. He sunk into the bath, the now murky water lapping at his lips. As he lay there in a self-inflicted state of paralysis, he stared passed the ceiling, his mind somewhere else, no longer in the same scape as his body. He sunk further and further into the water. Like Moses parting the Red Sea, the water flowed vertically down as he fell below the water level. Like the giant waterfalls he had seen on television, mist erupted as it fell upon his flesh. The turmoil of liquid ignited the senses of his skin. The pressure pushing down and the heat mildly scolding, but all pleasurable as it scoured his sins away. He let himself sink deeper and deeper into the bliss that wrapped him up and made everything safe again. No one could touch him here, no one. Those who wanted him dead could do their worst, he would live forever if they found him now. He looked up at the rectangular hole in the water above him, it seemed so far away now. He could only see the ceiling above him and the naked light-bulb that steamed in the moisture-filled air. He could not see the bathroom walls or the door. This was when the bathroom door opened and a figure moved towards the bath.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
He
found a vein amongst the various pinpricks trailing along his arm. They looked like a highlighted journey on a map, except the map got you nowhere good in the end. Picking up the syringe, he flicked it, making sure there were no air bubbles. Get one in your bloodstream and it could kill you. He considered the irony, if that finished him off. He found the spot, feeling the point of the needle on his skin. He applied force and the needle went in cleanly. He pressed the plunger and the brown liquid shot into the vein, to mingle with the weak red blood that flowed through him, keeping him alive. The hit was almost instantaneous. He sunk into the bath, the now murky water lapping at his lips. As he lay there in a self-inflicted state of paralysis, he stared passed the ceiling, his mind somewhere else, no longer in the same scape as his body. He sunk futher and further into the water. Like Moses parting the Red Sea, the water flowed vertically down as he fell below the water level. Like the giant waterfalls he had seen on television, mist erupted as it fell upon his flesh. The turmoil of liquid ignited the senses of his skin. The pressure pushing down and the heat mildly scolding, but all pleasurable as it scoured his sins away. He let himself sink deeper and deeper into the bliss that wrapped him up and made everything safe again. No one could touch him here, no one. Those who wanted him dead could do their worst, he would live forever if they found him now. He looked up at the retangular hole in the water above him, it seemed so far away now. He could only see the ceiling above him and the naked lightbulb that steamed in the moisture-filled air. He could not see the bathroom walls or the door. This was when the bathroom door opened and a figure moved towards the bath.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
