Disclaimer

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!

———

“Fucking bitch,” he muttered angrily.  His words were muffled and barely recognizable, as if he were speaking through a mouthful of cotton.  His hands shook with rage and from somewhere far away, he could hear the cold laughter of the ‘other’ mocking him.

It had only taken him a few minutes to get dressed.  He had done so carefully, without once removing is eyes from the enormous mound of flesh on the bed.  His heart hammered in his chest, pounded relentlessly in his ears and it was everything he could do to keep from betraying his actions with a careless gasp for air, but he was able to dress without so much as disturbing her.

He was hurt, on the inside as well out.

It seemed like it was so far away; that day when he sat across from her at Dewie’s Drugstore.  It had been like a dream come true.  Of course, he had known that she was there for a reason other than what he was thinking, but he had been unable to control his imagination.  She had been wearing a white, short-sleeved blouse that was obviously a couple of sizes too small.  It had clung against her skin, barely containing her bosom and he it was all he could do to keep his eyes from wandering too far down.

She had given him a friendly hug when he arrived, but he had been powerless to return it.  His arms remained limply at his side, while other parts of him did not, and he would still feel her skin against his for many nights to come.

And it was that look in her eyes.  After she had stopped Tommy from putting him in the hospital that day, she had thrown him a single, flirting glance before they were gone. Her smile had been like the sun, and combined with the effect of the one playful finger at her lips, he had thought there had been a promise of something more.

“Fat fucking Lucy Winters,” he had screamed afterwards.  How his chest had ached! As he sped away on his bike, it had barely contained the remnants of his broken heart and he would have been none the better had Tommy just flattened him instead of pulling abruptly before him.

“More like Crazy Fucking Lucy Winters,” he growled.

He couldn’t believe he had been so gullible.  Not only was she a complete and utter tease, but she was no better than the shitbag that she was dating.  She came at him, trying to be his friend, but in reality…

“Oh get over it already,” the other whispered from his thoughts.

…she was setting him up.  It wasn’t enough that they talked about him behind his back. They couldn’t simply be happy continuing to stare and laugh at him every time he walked by.  Apparently, even the occasional ass-kicking was no longer any fun!  Even worse, it was probably her idea.  Only a woman would think of a way to completely destroy her enemy; heart, mind and soul.

“…don’t ignore me Scottie.  I’m the only friend you’ve got.”

He stood silently across the room, lost his in his thoughts and staring at the sleeping form before him.  His skin crawled as he remembered the feel of her against him.  His skin was still damp from the light sweat that coated her, and smelled faintly of sweat and stale Fritos.

He felt like he was going to be sick.

“Some friend,” he countered silently.  “Do you really think that there’s any way in hell I would have stayed after what she did to me?”

“Do you think you would have gotten what she did to you from anywhere else,” it answered sarcastically.

“SHUT UP,” he screamed.  He raised his right hand, balled it into a fist and punched it through the wall next to him.  The effect would have been no less devastating had he swung a hammer at the wall instead.  The plaster gave beneath the force of his blow, folding inward and belching a light cloud of dust around his wrist.

Disclaimer

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!

———

For the next several hours, he slowly slipped in and out of consciousness.  Because he had no physical state, it was nearly impossible for him to get any solid length of sleep. He had no eyelids to block out the light.

Was it even possible to sleep here?  What was happening felt more like he was withdrawing into himself to regather his strength.  The manipulating of his own body, as well as drawing himself closer to the portals that were his eyes, were both very taxing. He felt very much a static image of himself and it frightened him.

His coming and going reminded him of the time he had stayed up an entire week working on his project in the den.  The work was tedious, but very easy to lose track of time while doing which is exactly what had happened.  Because his mother spent most of her time at work, she didn’t notice his absence and his bitch of a sister couldn’t have cared less.   Surviving on only bottled water and crackers…

“…follow the…crumbs I’ve left behind…”

He was startled from his thoughts by the sound of the voice.  But, had the ‘other’ spoken, or was he merely remembering?  No, if it was, he would have felt the words as they coursed through him.  So then it was the latter, but, he wasn’t sure what this was supposed to mean.  In this prison, inside of his mind, he only saw what the other wanted him to see.  At first, he had been haunted by his dreams.  But the longer he spent here, the less he dreamed.

He began to grow angry.  It welled up from deep inside of him and empowered him with its raw energy.

How dare this ‘other’ take control of him and force him to watch through his own eyes as it enjoyed what was his!

His anger poured into the infinite cup that was his soul, slowly filling it with an all too familiar rage. Though he had no form, he felt his temperature beginning to rise as he focused on thoughts of the usurper.

Who does this thing think its dealing with?!

It was a feeling he had recently experienced, one which he had focused on the family dog, and it had once again consumed him.  Though he would never know it, the ethereal form of his consciousness had lost all of its translucent properties and had begun to swell inside of his prison.

Suddenly, the vast reaches of his his mind were more confining.  He could see its walls around him and they reminded him of the time he held a pen-light against the tip of his finger.

“I’m taking back what’s mine,” he projected as he approached the inside of his eyes.

“Wai-what,” came the sleepy response of the other, but it was too late.  Scott’s soul slammed home and he smiled with grim satisfaction as he felt the violent ejection of the other from its perch.

He was laying down and the ceiling above him was unfamiliar.  Something heavy pressed against his his right side, and for a brief moment he panicked when he couldn’t move his arm, until he realized what it was that had him pinned.

Her hot, fetid breath blasted his newly regained senses, causing to first groan in disgust and then recoil away from her.

“Ohhh, gross,” he moaned as he carefully slid out from under her.  When she didn’t stir, he silently got out of the bed and began gathering his clothes from the floor.  It took him only a few minutes to get dressed, and once finished, he glared at her sleeping mass while rubbing his sore cheek.

Disclaimer

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!

———

His head throbbed painfully behind the temples, his veins full of blood and pulsing in time with his heart.  It had been hours since the ‘other’ had forced him into the prison of his mind, and he was beginning to tire.  The effort of controlling his body as if it were the puppet to his puppeteer had drained him of not only his physical energy, but his mental as well.

The ‘other’ allowed him to watch the outside through his own eyes, much like it must have done during its tenure in his mind, which is how he now knew he was at Lucy’s house.  From somewhere far beneath him, there was a deep rumbling as his vocal cords were being utilized to speak.  From the nether in which he floated, it felt as if the very cosmos was in the midst of the most hellacious storm he had ever known.  The baritone waves, which would be formed into words once they reached his mouth, pummeled him with all the ferocity of the ocean’s fury at high tide.

If he’d had a physical form, his breath would have hitched with each tremendous sob that escaped him.  His face would have dampened from the tears that leaked out of the corners of his eyes and each sound that he’d made would have sent him spiraling further into the overwhelming sadness now coursing through him.  It pinched his soul within its vice-like fingers, crushing more and more of his breath from his lungs with each passing minute.

Twin beams of light poured through the portals of his eyes, chasing away the nightmarish images that his exhausted mind threw at him and pinned him against the shadowy void.  It had been hours since he’d left the library, but from where the other now held him captive, it felt as if days had already passed.  

How could this have happened?  Was he possessed?  The other had whispered to him for weeks, fueling his emotions and enhancing his dreams.  It had promised him of its apathy, when he wondered if it would try to control him, and assured him that it did not want anything more than what it had already taken from him.

And yet, just several hours (days?) ago, he had been forced through the bottleneck of his consciousness and into the vast nothing beyond, where the vibrations from his vocal cords threatened to shake him apart with every word and the most horrific of nightmares skirted just beyond his range of vision.

“Are you listening to me?!”

Lucy’s voice originated from somewhere beyond the portals before him, out of the limited range of sight that the other afforded him, making it difficult for him to pinpoint.

“…yes,” came the answer, one which he didn’t speak.

“Dammit Scott, what am I going to do with you?  I asked you over five minutes ago to get me a drink!”

“Why don’t you get off your ass and get it yourself,” came the booming retort.

He cringed inwardly at the enraged screech that followed, and suddenly her face rose into his line of sight.  Her cheeks were red, covered in perspiration and the results of her efforts, and her eyes flared with rage.

“Scott Vali, how DARE talk to me like that?!  And, after what I just did for you!”

Her meaty fist flew through the air, and before he could regain any amount of control over his limbs, it connected with the right side of his cheek.  His head snapped to the left as it followed the course of her attack, and his eyes began to water.  It didn’t take long for the images on the other side of the portals to waver, but just as quickly, her hands were on either side of his face as she frantically began to apologize.

“I’m going to take reeeal good care of her for that one, Scotty.  You may have just beamed one up, but I’m going to set the phasers to fun, baby, oh yeah!”

“You son of a bitch, I’ll…”

“…you’ll what?  Word me to death?”

The sound of the other’s laughter reverberated off the walls of his mind.  They were chased soon after by screams of anguish which bellowed from the depths of a fractured soul which was was not only near empty, but had begun to drift from its tether.