Creepypasta

ASYLUM pt.2

THE BONEWALKER
After delving into one of the patient's accounts, I've become more aware of the bizarre array of afflictions we contain here... I'll be honest, I never really thought of the patients as people before. Crazy is a label that immediately dehumanizes someone, cutting them off from any sympathy or understanding.

There's one girl, for instance, who refuses to talk to anyone unless she's allowed to feel their temples for 'nerve fibers' first, whatever that means. Other than that, and some mild paranoia, she seems completely aware and normal - but, before, it was easy to write her off as just another crazy patient. I wonder what she's thinking... she refused to give any explanation for her behavior.

The more I read their accounts, the more I realize that these are real people afflicted by tortures beyond mundane imagination.

Last night, reading while on break, one man's words caught my attention. I know him. He's consistently depressed, resigned, and drained - but now I think that, underneath all that, he may be like any of us. He's just... pained by this thing that grips him.
*************************************
Fine, I'll tell you! Just no more shocks. You promised no more shocks if I tell you!

It doesn't make a difference anyway.

I know how it started. It's obvious now, when I think back.

I was on the street, walking with friends. We were drinking, and heading to the next bar, when some weird, disgusting, guy with desperate eyes bumped into me. He smelled like sweat and something else... but he spilled something on me. It got on my hand - on my fingernails, specifically.

It was blood. He'd spilled blood on me.

He froze, seemed horrified and sad. "I'm sorry," he said. I believed him, but I didn't know what he was sorry for. He ran.

Disgusted, I cleaned it off and tried to forget about it. Nothing happened... for awhile.

Oh God, I remember every detail of that night. Lying by myself in my crappy little apartment - oh how I miss it, a palace compared to your 'care' - I woke up just before it happened. I gazed at my dark ceiling, feeling strange.

And then I was curled up in pain, too shocked even to scream. I remember staring at it, not yet understanding how screwed I was. This long, bloody, blade-thing was sticking out from my shin.

Where'd it come from? Did someone stab me? I didn't understand... I reached for the phone, but seized with pain again as the blade moved. Another long, white, razor-like thing shot out, and the two separated, slicing an open line in my shin. I had sudden visions of the razors continuing, slicing me into sections from the inside out... now, I almost wish it had.

I didn't have much time to panic. The slicing stopped. I stared, clutching my leg. Four more bloody protrusions joined the first two, and then - it slid out.

Shaking, numb from shock and panic, I felt a small relief that I wasn't about to be carved up - and then that consolation vanished, as I realized something living had just crawled out of my shin bone.

Dripping with my blood, it scanned the room with six pearly eyes. Seemingly carved from bone, it stood on six razor-like legs - the blades that had eviscerated my shin. About two feet high, it was much like a spider...

Unexpected, it said. It had no mouth. How did it speak?

"...unexpected?" I asked, numb and terrified.

Who are you?

Trembling and on the verge of tears, I just wanted it to go away. "Nobody important..."

That was the wrong answer.

It jabbed a leg back into my exposed shin bone, neatly avoiding the separated flesh and streaming blood. I felt a sharp jab in my chest - I understood implicitly, horrified, that this creature's razor leg entered my tibia, but emerged from one of my ribs. A bladed point pressed against my heart from the inside...