Ch.2
I walk through the hall, towards the steps at the end of the hallway and begin to climb; the only thing keeping me from tripping and falling is the light cascading from the cracks in the white, wooden door at the top of the stairs. It's a warm, pleasant glow that makes the pitch black hallway only look worse. I open the door and enter my bedroom, it's a mess and a dark feeling seems to shadow it. On the right wall there's a large natural wood (like all my furniture) vanity with a mirror the size of a door connected to it. The walls are black and the room has no windows.
The bed.
The head of the bed is soaked in blood.
THUMP THUMP THUMP
My eyes trail from the blood soaked pillows and splattered sheets to the wall just above.
A rabbit hangs, like a painting.
It's stapled to the wall and it's cracked open by its ribs, its innards sag inside its bloody ribcage, and its large intestines hang out, causing its small intestines to hang like a sick form of a tangled baby's mobile.
THUMP THUMP THUMP
The rabbit's left foot twitches against the wall.
Its fur hangs in clumps.
And it's hung by its skin, stretched to keep it somewhat flat but the tension causes the nails securing the rabbit to rip holes in its sensitive, pink skin.
What a waste, I silently murmur to myself as I walk over to the abomination.
I take an end of flesh in between my teeth and pull, ripping the carcass off the wall. It tastes of iron and mildew and its texture is of soft, worn out rubber. The skin leaves pieces behind on the nails where it ripped.