Flesh melds to carpet
Four walls stare back
Screeching silence broken only by muffled incessant tickings
Wait
Could you hear that?
Wedged, ever so snuggly
Between two negligible ticks
Perhaps not
It taunts me with its discretion
Attempting to lure out of my haven
Though not without the lingering sense of horrid presence still lurking
Hiding in wait for
Resolve to give
But give
It will not
Allert now
Flesh tears from cotton strands
Standing in a pool of crimson tears I awaken
The machine
It lets loose
A wall of horrid noise
Ringings and tickings now masked by the sounds of
Hell
Keeping the thing at bay
This mental torture
Has become my home
How long has it been
They meld together now
Days, weeks, months…
A grey stream of dull misery
With the light
Slow death
I stand in my head
I can’t
Anymore
The black pool invites
Centered in the middle of carpet
Omni present its black abyss so perfectly delightful
So profoundly petrifying
its dread
Its call
now louder than that of the horrible noise engulfing
But there is yet one other path
The door
Oak, dark and red as blood
Stained by misery beyond
There surely awaits the thing
Inspiring terror deeper even than
That dark abyss…
I-
I lean forward
Observing my reflection in the black fluid of the pool just to see
Empty eyes
Staring back
Unblinking
Unwavering
Their lifeless gaze
No…
I back away
Running now
To escape that horrid
Cold
Dead stare
Until
Bloody oak stands before…
The machine speaks
Its cacophony almost soothing now
Indeed how could I have ever mistaken such a caring protector as anything but…
But
Those eyes
I reach out
And as I clasp the cold brass nob
Grief
Fear
Hope
Runs through my cold cold veins like a warm static
As with a tear the door
Falls
The City High Review 