Skip to main content

Living Hell

“I have been whispering your whole life, and now you can finally hear me.”
A raspy voice muttered in Joseph’s ear. Joseph’s slumber gave way to a consciousness gripped with panic but a body that would not move.
The first thing in his field of vision was the elongated silhouette of a millipede crawling around in the lamp above hanging above his head.
“I have always been with you. I know everything you know, and I’ve seen everything that you’ve seen and a millennia more.”
“Who are you?” Joseph asked in a choked whisper.
“My name is gone forever. Just like the empire, I served” the voice said with no trace of sorrow.  “I think that’s something you must know a lot about.”
Joseph saw the legs of the milliped probing the outer edge of the lantern. The writhing extremities curled out from the shadow into the glowing light
“That scar on your forearm. You were one of the Third Reich's anointed soldiers?” The voice asked with a smug retort.
“The scar is a dead give away. The voice sighed, “Once a Hun always a Hun. I’m sure there are a few people here who want you dead. With any luck, this should be over relatively quickly for both of us.”
Over half of the millipede's long body was holding itself up over the edge of the precariously suspended light bulb. Its multitude of legs groping at the air as it felt its way over the side.
Joseph tried to call out but suffocated on the breath of his words.
“You are in hell Joseph. You are a vessel formed solely to inflict suffering on my soul.”
The milliped had spilled over to the outside was crawling its way down the slope of the light and directly over Joseph’s face.
“Forget about your fiance she’s been raped and killed by Russians.” The voice said sharply.
The monstrous insect was hanging from the edge of the light now, gradually more and more of its legs slipped from the edge, and hideous creature inched closer and closer its many legs reaching out from him.
“Your family’s farm is burned. Everything about you is gone.”
The blood orange insect was gripping to the lightly swaying lantern only by the very back rows of the long creature's legs were still adhering to the lamp.
Joseph let out a breathless scream as he watched the primordial terror fall towards his flesh. He blinked, and it disappeared. He felt something on his shoulder, and his body jolted up.
A tall, thin framed Leigonare holding a shovel was standing next to his bed. The brim of a cap obscured sunken dark eyes and pockmarked cheeks.
“We have a grave to dig,” he said nervously.
The inky night sky was giving way to the pink and purple hues colored in by the ascending sun. Joseph and his comrade were waist deep in the grave and digging deeper. EVery upturned layer of earth revealed writhing swarms of primordial creatures so hideous they had evolved to scurry away and seek refuge from the light of day in a sanctuary of dirt covered by stratospheres of rotting matter.
“These are the only things in the world you matter to now.” the slithering voice from his nightmare breathed in his ear.
Joseph stopped digging and shook his head. He looked down by his boot. The slimy tubular body of a worm wiggling in the soft dirt. Joseph drove the blade of his shovel down into its body. He lifted it from the soil and saw a moist streak of viscera on the metal.
“They will pick you clean, and I will move on just as I always have.” The voice teased.  “Do you think if your eyes are open when it happens you’ll be able to see them crawling across your face looking for a place to burrow in your ripening flesh?”
“Shut up,” Joseph whispered through clenched teeth.
The trooper in the hole with Joseph glanced up at him, but Joseph ignored him and continued digging.
The little trench they were digging into the wet jungle floor was to dispose of the remains of a Polish legionnaire, the last son of a now extinct Nobel bloodline no one could remember the name of. The thick jungle air had quickly consumed the boy alive. No matter how much necrotic flesh was filleted from his living body the rot spread. The body was wrapped in canvass and doused in petrol. The heap burned away under the tricolor flag. Joseph absent-mindedly lit a cigarette while he and the other troopers watched the pyre.
"Seems fitting, doesn't it? This jungle is nothing but an incinerator for human refuse."
Joseph ignored the musing and took a long drag from his cigarette. His hand trembled with the effort.
“Don’t worry the worms are always ok with charred meat.”

Become a Patron!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Bronze Bull

After the Mormon army armies reached the east coast, they set to work salvaging and restarting the long-abandoned foundries scattered across the landscape. The blast furnaces once again were swollen with molten steel, and the towering brick stacks erupted with volcanic ferocity. The forked flames lashed at the clouds and the billowing smoke blackened the sky heralding the ascendancy of the continent's new masters.
Roaming bands of scavengers had been picking at the bones of New York City for decades. THe nibbling quickly turned into a full feeding frenzy. Legions of landless farmers and rootless laborers descended on the ruins. They worked as ceaselessly as termites to hollow out the steel carcass.
John Nelson had traveled a long way to get a look inside the old city. He was a Captain Edler in the Bringham Young regiment an outfit that had spent the better part of a decade fighting across the continent. The spry young Captain was an avid student of history, and even though dead o…

Continuity of Government

Nature carves out caves haphazardly. The walls are bumpy, the floors are uneven and prone to sudden opening up into deep chasms, and spikes hang from the ceilings like icicles. This cavern though had been cut into the side of the mountain in a very deliberate and careful fashion. It was a space of equal dimensions. The walls and ceiling with smoothed over with concrete. The opening only went a few meters into the rock and on the back wall was an elevator with a sliding cage door.
The Nelson party stumbled upon this secluded anomaly on their way to a burgeoning Mormon settlement on the west bank of the Mississippi. It was too alluring not to explore.
 It was evident from the location it was the builder's priorities to make sure this place was never found. That could only mean whatever was housed there was valuable.
Joe and Mike Nelson had never ridden in an elevator before, and it was every bit as mystifying to them as the man made cavern. The even succession of clicks produced by…

The End Is Coming, Sooner Or Later

“He is speaking to you. Please hear him!” Terrance a red-faced somewhat hefty middle-aged street preacher in an old black disintegrating windbreaker implored the crowd of pedestrians. “How much time do you think you have to atone? God is infinitely loving, but he is not infinitely patient. You may not have tomorrow to finally seek his forgiveness!” They paid him no heed. Most deliberately avoided looking at him. They drowned him out with headphones or continued to focus on their digital handheld distractions. Devices Terrance referred to as the “Devil's Valium.” The light changed, and the crowd crossed the street unaware they were walking off into eternal damnation. The street preacher sighed and shook his head. He brushed the snow accumulating on his sleeves and tattered unraveling winter hat and continued to spread the word. Terrance Williams was a firm believer in fate. Everyone including himself was only following a timeline; each moment was another flash in a chain reaction that…