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There is something awry I can feel it as I step into the thick and tense stifling and sinister, suffocating ether. I have a peripheral sense of an occluded slumber, a disturbance. Begotten by me? I can only hope not. Haunted by something unknown, unseen but not unheard. A sound, a whisper, a chill Ghastly squall The rush suspends my breath, captivates my thoughts, hurries my pulse; throbbing and pounding, in my dizzy and cluttered head. The door has closed. Impulse and instinct drive my body but it is dark, never-ending, surrounding Me. Perturbation reaches up And grips my very being; strangling my conscious, operational will. Numbing all perception short of foreboding and dread. My entranced, mortal corpse stumbling over my own hastened direction that it already knows. Scrutinizing and bellowing an audible, unmistakable laugh which freezes me again with crippling petrification. There is no escape. Now face to face as I turn to confront it, stare to glare. Menacing and perilous it consumes me. Devours me. Immortally imprisoned by It.
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Jan 15, 2017
Jan 15, 2017 at 2:58 PM UTC
| A Dark Corner of Memory |
There is something awry I can feel it as I step into the thick and tense stifling and sinister, suffocating ether. I have a peripheral sense of an occluded slumber, a disturbance. Begotten by me? I can only hope not. Haunted by something unknown, unseen but not unheard. A sound, a whisper, a chill Ghastly squall The rush suspends my breath, captivates my thoughts, hurries my pulse; throbbing and pounding, in my dizzy and cluttered head. The door has closed. Impulse and instinct drive my body but it is dark, never-ending, surrounding Me. Perturbation reaches up And grips my very being; strangling my conscious, operational will. Numbing all perception short of foreboding and dread. My entranced, mortal corpse stumbling over my own hastened direction that it already knows. Scrutinizing and bellowing an audible, unmistakable laugh which freezes me again with crippling petrification. There is no escape. Now face to face as I turn to confront it, stare to glare. Menacing and perilous it consumes me. Devours me. Immortally imprisoned by It.
jason-weihl
Written by
Jan 15, 2017
Jan 15, 2017 at 2:58 PM UTC
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