It was raining and heavier than usual. Jericho was in bed, he wasn't listening to anything, he wasn't watching anything. He laid there motionless, staring into the abyss. Outside was the rain slowly building up yet what Jericho saw above him was an abyss, completely pitch black with a white ring glowing. The rain built up more and more until it covered his house, the windows cracked and broke, the water poured in. It slowly rose until it reached Jericho and when it did, the wounds on his leg would open up and faecal matter, rotting bits of green meat and maggots would come crawling out. The wounds on his arms would emit vomit and little humanoid beings who have deformed faces and tongues slowly grow out of each pore crawl out of his gashes and some would get dragged along the vomit and drifted to the water, some of the humanoids drowned and if they did, bugs, mosquitoes, ants and flies would explode out of their heads and surfaced the to the flooding water. The rest of the humanoids swam and tried to search for land but to no avail. Jericho's ears would sprout fingers that eventually grew into hands and the fingers of those hands grew into hands as well. His skin slowly collapses upon itself and loses moisture. His body was being lifted by the flooding water, carrying his body to the abyss and as it consumed him. He laughed, loudly, forcefully, and to the point it hurt his throat. And he realised he was standing in a void, without light and what was visible was a door that had an unnaturally natural light. He stared at it for a while, and asked, "Why?" No answer was given. He started to raise his voice. "Why?" No answer was given. He started to shout. "Why am I here?" He started to scream. "Who am I supposed to be?" He starts to pound at the door and smash his fists against the wooden door. "Who was I supposed to be?" Howling, breaking, crying, squalling, whimpering. He asked one last question. "Who am I?". No answer was given. He punched the door with a hard strike and his entire body deconstructed into vital organs.
YOU ARE READING
The Last Straw.
Horror"It is said that life and death never had a meaning nor did it have a purpose as in the end, the everlasting eternity will consume all but the life we have lived completely and fully are far more significant and meaningful than a brain-dead, cold an...
