She Has A Pretty Face Though (Part XXV)


The following is one of many installments for a story designed specifically for my blog.  While it does step out of my usual genre, there are some things still not suitable for a younger audience.  Violent/Graphic descriptions, strong language and sexual situations may be found through different sections.  Each entry will tell a small portion of the story during different times and may not directly follow the one prior to it.  

This story follows the direct interactions, as well as the deteriorating thoughts of a young man who is struggling not only with the relationships he has with those around him, but with the relationship he has with himself as well.

Finally, all work is strictly fiction and does not reflect the views of the author.  Any resemblance to actual person(s) is only a coincidence.

If this isn’t your cup of tea, then avoid these excerpts and hopefully I’ll see you around my other posts and webseries!


He awoke, covered in complete complete darkness, cold and floating in the nether reaches of his consciousness.  He was weak and when he tried to move, only the smallest motion was born of his effort.  From somewhere beyond the edge of his hearing, he could just perceive some form of garbled speech.  The words were inhuman to his ears, metallic and void of any life.  They sounded as if they were spoken from beneath the water, a detail which only added more to his confusion.

Where am I,” he muttered.  His question passing through his lips and only adding to the rising panic from with.  Why couldn’t he feel his lips?  He reached with his left hand to pinch his right forearm, and nearly succumbed to the feelings he was now experiencing.  What had been a natural feeling through the first twenty years of his life, something he had come to expect and had taken advantage of since learning how to do was gone!  He was paralyzed!

“Not paralyzed, dumbass, just..set aside.”

It was the voice of the other, except, instead of speaking from the recesses of his mind, it exploded around him like thunder.  His will buffeted into him from all directions, and as it did he felt himself becoming smaller and even more insignificant than when he had been when he first awakened.

“But, where am I,” he asked meekly.  What he thought of as his voice had become small and childlike.  His words, lightly coated with the terror he felt, tumbled out of his being and into the abyss surrounding him, becoming quickly consumed in its shadowy tendrils.

“You’re where you belong, for now.  I think it’s time you know what I have had to endure.”

“I…  I don’t like it here.  Let me out?”

“I don’t think so, Scott.  If you want to escape this prison, you will need to dig your way out.”

“But, how?”

“I was very sloppy when I left.  You’ll see.  Just follow the bread crumbs I’ve left behind.”

He pulsed from the bombardment of the other.  ‘He’ had become so strong, so fast!  It didn’t make sense, for as foreign as the other was, it has also become a part of him as well.  It had come with false promises and dreams, bolstering his own fragile ego, while at the same time sowing a dark seed deep within.  The latter he had only recently become aware of, and now, as he hovered before the blossoming fruits of the other’s labor, he felt himself more than willing to sample just a taste…

“It’s never just a taste, Scott,” came the voice of yet another.  This voice was both familiar and different at the same time.  It was one that he knew he should recognize, as if he had recently spoken with its owner.  Unlike the other, however, this one seemed to emanate from the darkness around him.

He shivered violently as a new wave of fear washed over him, pelting him with its raw power and battering his frightened ego even further.

“W-who are you,” he asked in what could have been a whisper, had he lips to articulate his softened words.  Though he waited for what seemed like an eternity, there would be no answer to his question.

He could feel the pulsing strength from the seed that had been planted so long ago by his unwelcome passenger.  It pulled at him with something like a matronly love, but it was overflowing with things so dark that his mind could barely comprehend them. And, of those things he could sense from it, the dark images which had begun to swim to the surface where some he now wished he could unsee.

This dark seed, which had begun to blossom and was now stretching itself through the reaches of his consciousness, had been fed by his malevolent thoughts; by his uncontrolled actions it had grown into something that he would soon be unable to separate from himself.  

Lost to feelings of despair, which had taken ahold of him during the moments he had first come to, Scott began to cry.

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