He finds he can't breath, which was stupid, he supposed since he was a skeleton. And in hell if that was indeed where he had been placed.(which he began to doubt)
But he was stuck,somewhere,and he was dead for sure. Alone with nothing but strange,and abstracted creatures,almost similar to himself. But,of course as he said before,they looked unfinished.
Maybe he will end up like them
Broken
Erased
Unfinished
He doesn't quite like to look at his own body. He wasn't even sure if it was his. Nor does he like to think of that for too long.
It's not ugly
Just strange
Abnormal-if you will.
...
He's been stuck here for days now. Weeks or perhaps months. It feels like forever or maybe it's just been an hour. His body is itchy-itchy-his bony fingers scratching at his arms with screeching chalkboard sounds.
He tries to think of anything but endless white and the dead silent...things surrounding him.
They like to crowd,obviously never knowing personal space. They surround him,with missing limbs and mismatched eyes staring. Staring
At him
At him?
He's not sure, anymore what they stare at.
He sure doesn't like it.
He feels like running away,but he's to tired. So tired,and he sure doesn't want to...listen to the rattling of his bones so loud in this white place.
So he sleeps
It doesn't help
...
He never dreams either
...
It's probably a Sunday or perhaps a Friday the thirteenth when something completely out of the blue happens.
Quite literally
A vibrant blue liquid pours out from above. Splashing him with a dose of depression,the ground stained in that hue.
Coughing and sputtering the blue liquid sinks into his bone. Icky and vile he feels ever stream flow across each limb.
He was never going to see his family again
He hadn't thought about them since his death. He would much rather forget,forgetting is easy.
A slim pill to swallow that leaves no flavor stuck to his tongue.
Simple,fast,easy
Then why did easy suddenly hurt so much?
...
He busts out crying
...
He finds the liquid seems to sway his emotions to extremes. So gradually and almost unnoticeable till the liquid dried out. And all the sadness was sucked out of him,leaving him feel a little more...empty than before.
A little more
Unhuman
Strange
...
The next color drenching him is burning,bloody red.
Finn doesn't think he's been thing angry-so down right furious in his entire life!
He never wants to feel that way again.
...
More colors rain from above, each never the same color twice. It's strange, yes, but much more fascinating than boring white. Much better then the stares
He starts to experiment with the colors left over. Smaller doses,bigger ones.
Mixing them together, mixing them with varying amounts, mixing them all till he gets a puddle of graying brown. That does send him into a state of insanity-or an acid trip. Something similar between drugs and a sugar high nightmare.
He would never be doing that again.
...
When the colors finally dry out,he finds himself tossing and turning constantly.
He wants to do something, anything
His dreams are nothing but fuzzy coloring book pages, and blurred faces of a past he can hardly remember.
It's easy to forget,but easy hurts doesn't it?
...
The voices in his head grow louder and louder.
Until..
His voices are no longer quite his own. Rather they seemed to have gain their own type of sentience.
The nagging type
YOU ARE READING
Damned to eternal baldness
FanfictionWaking up as a skeleton is one thing. Finding out you're a God is another. Odd and quite Finn just can't seem to catch a break can he?
