Author's Notes: To get more of a feel for this story, please listen to the song Love Song - Korn, just to understand just how intense this is, just how horrifying it is. I don't want you to just read this, I want you to feel what they are feeling, be a part of their story. As of recently, I have decided to make this an IsolationShipping (RedxSilver) story just because no one has ever really done one and I want to do one.
Remember, don't just read it, feel the story, become one with it, picture how they see, what they see, you might even just want to be there, with them.
Edit: It has been brought to my attention that this confused some people a bit. The main character is Silver, it's kind of hard to realize, but he's going insane for the first most part of this chapter. Just to let everyone and future readers know.
The room spun. It spun, and it spun, and it spun. I could feel it move all around me in an effortless dance. Maybe it was just my battered senses. I understood it not. It was so lively, yet it wasn't happening. It was far too dark to be able to see what was happening all around me. Why was it so dark? It was almost as though I was blind. Maybe it wasn't dark, maybe I was just blind. I could hear the rattling of bones, bumping against one another. They almost resembled bongos. That's the sound, bongos. It pounded loudly against my inner ear. It slipped effortlessly under me in waves of vibrations that creeped into the worn out wood under my still fingertips. This wood felt so old. It cracked and fell apart easily under my nails. This wood was about as lifeless as whatever stomped about. It had heavy footing, all these vibrations supported that assumption. The dark had a good hold on me, I'd give her that. She held me close. Her sweet body curled forward and she dug her hands into the tops of my wrists, pinning me under her, keeping me from moving. Her cloud like black hair coiled around my eyes, tightening. She made me blind. If I were bleeding frowm the eyes, or of any place else, I would not be able to feel it. She numbed me, refusing to release me from her void. My body resigned to her, though my mind did not. I felt her growl at me. I couldn't hear her, but I could feel her. It sent shock waves along the nerves and cells of my body, but not even this provoked an obvious response from anywhere other than the tips of my fingers. She bucked her hips against the small of my back, begging me to cry out in angst and misery for all I'm worth. I wasn't worth much, nor could I utter a syllable. Her tentacles covered my mouth and slipped between the skin of my lips and knitted them to one another, preventing me from doing it regardless. She wanted an excuse to torture me, that's all. She recieved pleasure from this, and I could do nothing about it. She enjoyed digging into my numb body. She was ripping into me, so effortlessly. She was in unison with the footsteps, their owner. She worked for them. She helped them torture and mutilate me pyschotically, psychologically. I felt my skin tingle and my eyes roll back. I fought back with mental power, but I could only do so much. I had to convince her to let me go, for I wanted to escape. She worked for those with power. She drained me of my power, my physical power. I had to show her with my mind, that I was a lot more powerful than even her.
I spoke out to her, telepathically, hinting genuinely at my intentions, easing my way out of her grasp. This was a challenge, but any challenge must be met with something most would call balls, "If you can let me give it a go, my sweet, allow me to have it."
She hissed at me. This made my bones quiver, vibrate, within their meaty shells, "You will die my love. Of this I am certain."
I gave her my pathetic, feeble counter argument, "Be that as it may, I will die even if I am grazed eternally by your touch. Leave me, allow me to take my own life in search of freedom from this unforeseen captivity."
She leaned over my ear and snickred, my body reacted violently, but my mind remained in control. She couldn't shake my foundation, even with my physical self impaired."Deaths are horrid. I see all. If I stay, I might show you the way."
"Have you foresaken me?" I knew it was a stupid question, but what did it matter now?
"No, I have not... If your wish is to die gruesomely, then so be it. Just be aware that I only meant to harbor you, make you numb to them feasting upon your flesh." She said quietly, shaking in a violent manner. It seemed as though she, as much as the creatures, enjoyed senseless bloodshed.
"Then so be it. Release me." I ordered of her.
"Of course, my dear." She giggled maniacally.
I felt her tear violently away from my body. She split her weaves clear through my lips and tore the apart. Her hair had left lashes on my eyelids and in my iris, causing blood to gush out from my eyeball and pour over my face and down my mutilated lips. These liquids seared and traveled in rivers through the openings, joining in with the other fluids, making a sweet little pool under my chin. I felt none of this, for the numbness had left me invincible. This numbness refused to abandon me until she had removed herself and cleared my body of her presence. She left deep grooves, trenches on the top of my wrist. Her spikes had driven themselves deep into my back, and as she pulled them out, my spine swung back into place slowly. If it was appropriate, it could have been called rape, since a spike had found itself lodged in a place where not even the sun would shine. I said nothing, for it would have been childish too. What she made my mind believe happened was unbelievable. And after that, she disappeared from me.
I could see it.
The light poured into my pupil like a tidal wave crashing over a parched desert. My eyes shut themselves as the picture of the room began appearing in my mind. I felt around aimlessly, hoping to find something, although I didn't want to find a few specific things. Three specific things actually. One of them being him, two being them, three being a corpse. I was not in the mood to see coagulating bodily fluids, split heads and the drowning remains of half eaten intestines, all in the pool of blood that made up the bodily cavity. It bumping against severed and half eaten organs almost like soup, ready to be served to a man eater. The sight of the remains of facial expressions and eyesockets turned inside out with that little connective tissue hanging out with no eyeball to be seen. Sawed and split torsos and kidney stones were not on my list of "pleasant beauties." I think most human parts of society would agree.
Regardless, I latched onto what felt like an arm, It was too thin to be a thigh and too thin to be a calf. I could only hope it wouldn't be a rotting severed arm. The skin didn't peel or flake off when I rubbed my thumb on it. I was still struggling with my eyes. Maybe I was too scared to open them. Maybe I didn't want to come to terms with this being my reality. I had to open my eyes, allow myself to see what I was holding, fresh severed arm or not. I opened my eyes and there was a moment of relief and terror. I was glad to have not grabbed the remains of someone's lunch, but I wasn't glad to see exactly who it was that I had been holding onto. These mixed feelings plagued me with no end. I wanted to unsee what had been seen. I could not accept this. I simply could not.
I shook him as hard as I could, attempting to get him to awaken. I feared many simple things about this endevour. I feared that he was dead. I feared that if I flipped him over while shaking him, his stomach cavity would have been open, exposing his insides. His intestines would fall out of the open space, along with anything else left abandoned. His intestines, like fat under cooked noodles, would slip out and fall with a splat onto the aged wooden floor. His destroyed bowels would come apart fully and release their contents. They would slip over the remains of the intestines and coat them in something that would look like thickened soy sauce over the undercooked noodles. This was something I did not want to see at this moment in time. But regardless, I shook him restlessly, whispering almost desperately. Surely, I would lose my mind if I was left to my own devices, and that's not what I wanted. I needed to stay sane, to save myself from her, from them.
My heart palpitated strongly, with enough force that it could kill one of them. Maybe I can invent a device that could use these beats to kill them and make everything easy on myself. How silly of me, hoping like that. How unbelievably silly. I kept my attempts, and relaxed as soon as he began to stir, prompting me to purse my lips. He was alive, but not alive in the best place.
I sighed, whispering softly, "Thank the universe." My lips quivered as I spoke, "Red, are you okay?"
"Not really..." He said, his voice achingly quiet and notably scratchy.
"Don't take long... we must get moving." I growled lowly, helping him onto his feet.
"Where are we Silver...?" He asked softly, coughing a bit.
"We're at the gates of hell, that's all." I stated plainly. I used this as my answer, for nothing could probably prepare you for hell the way this did.
"Is there anyway to free ourselves from these chains of self mutilation and despair?" He asked darkly.
"We will die, it is our supposed destiny. But, I would rather be slaughtered and devoured, with my brains unravelled and used to decorate this abode due to the fact I was crazy enough to want to figure all of this out, rather than sit here and let myself be eaten." I said quickly.
"And if we go insane?"
"Who gives a damn? Be it that we go insane, be it while we stalk and sneak about to the exit. I will not go insane in this room, I would rather cry for my mother while eating my own feces." I snorted quietly.
He nodded toward me in acceptance. I didn't exactly believe in fate or destiny. I didn't believe in any of that silly crap that was said on tarot cards or written in fortunes. Fortunes belonged in cookies where they just gave you helpful advice over promises of abundance and wealth in the future. But this was a disturbing situation. My thoughts were not mine. I was watched. I was just being watched. She hovered over my head like a rain cloud, only this brough sickness and plague, rather than rain. Such disgusting insolence on my part. I don't know how I even ended up here. I still understood this not. Sleeping should bring peace, and yet here it brought fear.
My thoughts were knocked away as I felt the heavy footsteps once more. They thumped, and thumped, and thumped. The vibrations were so notable that I even felt them in the soles of my boots. My head darted and my eyes widened in fear. I felt Red grab me, but my eyes had locked onto the shattered remains of the door. It was disturbing. I could ear it. The squishing of meat against the floor. The splatting made me cringe, leading me to believe it was also dragging something else with it. Red pulled me quickly behind an adjacent couch, across the way from the door. My fingers curled around the material and I turned my head and eyes and peeked over the corner slightly. A shadow appeared on the outerwall that was only visible due to the moonlight coming in through the window. With all this fear, it occured to me just how bloody this room was. Blood painted the walls in a pretty little portrait of disgusting nature. From the door and up onto the wall, the blood dragged itself along the wood in smudges and streaks. Dear universe, what kind of sick place was this.
My eyes moved back on the door and I saw it. The head had been almost completely severed from the body. It hung limply from the veins and connective tissues, swinging limply from the side, almost like some sort of rotten key chain. It's stomach was burst open and had little pointed additions to the edges of the hole. I could just make out the internal organs of it, the big intestine swinging and swishing gently in the soup bowl that was this murderous creatures belly cavity. The organs flopped around flimsily, almost like a struggling fish, afraid to be eaten and cooked. My eyes slipped down to its legs. It walked on stumps. The stumps were where the rest of the calf should be located. That's what was making that meat like squishing sound. Blood bubbled as it stepped about, the skin was so badly torn and mauled, it imprinted in the wood some more. I moved to it's hands. It had something grabbed by the neck, something burnt, dying, but not down and out just yet. It had claws on one hand, while the other had extended appendages that slipped against the floor. It had little worm like things coming out from its stump of a neck. I really didn't want to see how this thing fed, but I couldn't tear myself away. It smelled of rotting flesh and dried blood that was left out in the sun for too long. I could only assume it wasn't fast, at least, I hoped it wasn't fast.
I looked again at the thing, and it took me a while to realize it was a person. They were just barely alive. It threw them onto the ground and made a sickening gurgling sound. I watched as the dying, half corpse try and escape, by ducking around it, only to be quickly slashed it on the stomach. While the burnt soul gripped onto itself, the creature grabbed it again, and twirled it. It kept it in a position where it's back was to the monster, and then it arched the burnt victims back, pushing their belly forward. I watched in horror as the stomach wall began to tear and their insides exploded out from the cavern and dropped wetly onto the floor with splats and splashes. They tried for a few more seconds to fight but could not anymore. Their face had been almost totally torn, and now their stomach suffered the same fate. It threw them onto the ground and stepped down with a massive amount of force onto their head. Their eyes slowly began to pop out of their head, working like paddles almost, only they didn't go back into the socket. Blood oozed in massive amounts onto the floor and the loud c-r-r-rack made me shudder violently. Their jaw broke into itself and their brain squished and slipped out from all the pressure, becoming mush. They were dead, so it ate.
It used the little worm like creatures coming out to strip the flesh off of the corpse's facial muscles and tissues. It slowly tore, almost as easily as paper, maybe even like plastic, and then got shoved down the remainder of what should be an esophogus with a gutteral churning sound. It ate it and spilled liquid all over as though it had just eaten something sweet, like jelly, or cooked, like chicken. As though it were eating crispy chicken tenders, it was just that simple for this maneater, it wasn't a cannibal, just a monster. That was the sad aspect of this. It slipped down and stuffed it's stump on the organs. I could see the neck muscles contracting and grinding the stomach into paste, an easy to swallow paste like salsa. I shuddered audibly as it slurped up the intestines as though they were large pieces of pasta that had been wrapped together and uncooked, uncut. The same churning sound was heard, almost as if it was spinning the insides of that neck to do away with how big and hard to eat the organs were. It dipped back into the cavern and continued on with a lung and the major arteries, blood literally spurting and all I did was hope it didn't land on me. The constant slurping sounds, I could only imagine it drinking them. I curled into myself and turned back and gripped onto Red's wrist.
I didn't want to see anymore. I refused to see anymore. I decided that waiting was worth more to my sanity than continuing to watch the unwarrented actions that had unfolded before me.
The gutteral churning continued into the darker parts of the day. How did I know this? Because it seemed to be that less light traveled in through the window as the day passed on. It'd slowly fade away and then I could see nothing but pitch black. I couldn't even see Red, who was right beside me, but I could feel his hand there. It was cold, almost lifeless. To reassure myself of his fate, I curled my finger around his, and he curled back. He was intelligent, I'd give him that. I refused to even breathe myself actually. I feared for my safety and the life of my companion at the moment. I prefered to not go off into my mind and escape that way. My thoughts were not offering me a safe haven regarding some means of confinement, to be trapped in there equaled to go insane. I wouldn't move, that's all, staying perfectly still. She loomed over me, waiting for me to break, just like the ribs were. I couldn't allow that.
When it came down to the sound stopping, I was almost curious as to why and would have turned over and peeked over the corner. I didn't want to chance it though. If that thing was still there and responded to movement, even in almost total darkness, I would have become dessert. That's how it worked. Whatever they ate was the main course, and the meal after that was dessert. It wasn't my place to sacrifice myself and maybe my friend. I wouldn't live it down and would end up roaming aimlessly like a trapped spirit. Then a question came to mind. Why was I even here? And why was he here? Were we being hunted down? Was it just us? I don't really know, and probably will never know. I only hoped that whatever this was hadn't gotten him.
This as some awful joke played at the hands of a monster. Someone who happily controlled such digustingly ravenous creatures, ordering them to control the world from the inside, from a place we could not see until we ended up there. This was a place where the eye does not see, where the ears do not hear, and where the mouth utters no words. Whatever it was, it held us captive, to play it's game, and I hated it. I hated this unbelievably difficult predicament. It was sickeningly deceitful and I shuddered at the thought. My body was not mine to control for the most part, and I guess it loved this torture. I leaned against the couch and then after a few more moments, I looked toward Red and nudged him slightly to say that it was time..
We crawled out from behind the couch and found bones and a bunch of meaty, bloody pulp. It was all nothing but shredded meat. The clothing lay sprawled everywhere in pieces and the face was almost completely demolished. It turned out that the pressure pushed down onto the face caused the skull to pop out from the top as well. I could see an eyeball, some brown hair. Red gave me a downcas glare. I noticed it then proceeded to look back down. The clothing, all just bloody rags. I could only just make out an assumption on what the original color was. I skipped over the coagulating fluids, slipping slightly in the puddles. I bent down slightly, staring at the gruesome remains of flesh and tendons. I made myself bend at the knees, holding myself up over the mess, crossing my bare arms slightly over my thighs. I saw an eyeball within hands reach, hanging limply and intact on a ligament. I slid a finger over the soft tissue holding it in the air and carressed the eyeball in my hand, turning it until I saw the iris. I pursed my lips as the color came into view. It was a shade of green. I sighed. With the pieces collected, the eye color, the hair and clothing, I could only come to an even more saddening conclusion.
"Red." I said remorsefully, letting the little golf ball shaped appendage slip out of my fingers slowly. He moved over toward me from where he was positioned cautiously.
He bent at the waist and looked at me tentatively, his eyes full of realization, "It's Green, isn't it?"
I could only sigh, I couldn't begin to comprehend how he felt, "Yeah, I think that was his last stand that we just saw." I think what bothered me more at the moment was that I had no remorse toward the loss of Green, and more sympathy for Red.
Red bit his lip and looked at me with soft eyes, their orbs shining in the faint stretch of light that came in through the nearby window at the moment, "Oh Silver, what if we meet the same fate? Even Green.." He turned his gaze to the scrapped remains of the corpse.
"Are they only picking us off is a better question Red. We shall not sit here dejected, and wait to be digested." I said angrily.
Red shot a questioning glare toward me, "And if we are lead to our graves? To our own death, despite our ambition?"
I stood up, smirking toward my companion. I wiped my fluid coated fingertips on my jeans and turned my attention back to him, "No, be this not. You hear me? Be this we will not." I growled lowly toward him.
Red straightened up his posture, meeting me with now dead maroon orbs, "Let's go on our death march, my dear."
I nodded, smiling, extending my hand, "Yes, my sweet."
Ending Notes; When I was writing this, it occurred to me that a good amount of people probably will not read this simply because maybe the pairing is too obscure or it was too long. I'm not sure, but I really want to make an impact with this. I will do my best, but I know some times the best is not good enough. I appreciate reviews regardless. Onto the next.
