It didn't hurt, not the way they were used to, when the spoon slid past their lower lid.
There was pressure. Like the moments before an egg spinning in the microwave exploded. Immense. Sickening, the feel of the spoon gliding into the socket. But not unbearable. Not until their vision in that eye was forced down.
Their vision split, one screen on Radio and the other on the floor. Impossible to comprehend. Dizzying. The implications horrifying. Headache splitting. Vertigo seized them in seconds and brought with it a volley of retching.
The hands, the shadow dwellers held them still.
They were almost grateful when the spoon levered and struck the top of their socket with a thok that cut off the floor feed. Warmth flooded down their cheek, drenching their hair. And then the pain began in earnest.
Splat went the egg. A hundred thousand fire ants took its place. Biting, pulling. Burrowing, pulling. Swarming in the wet cavernous socket and yanking on the thing lodged there.
Screaming replaced the retching.
Then, a tug.
Then, the cold. Something vital now missing. The gap sucking on dank air.
Then, their other eye went dark, too.
YOU ARE READING
Gallows Humour | Watty's 2023
HorrorThe bodies pile up endlessly, whole cities full of rotting corpses, and True Gallows takes care of them. Buries them, burns them, one building at a time. All for the low price of whatever they can scavenge off the corpses and pawn at the After Marke...
