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The StainThe Stain
By Morgan Boes
I can't get out. The door is in the living room, and that's boarded up. I've tried to seal the doors as best I could, but I can hear it in there. It's shuffling around, spreading its vile presence through my apartment till I have nowhere else to go. I panicked, and in a moment of terrified stupidity, I've left myself with no escape route. I can hear it scraping those arms across my floor, feeling its way around until it can find a weakness. The wound in my thigh hurts terribly, there is a red streak coming under the door from where I pulled myself out of the room. My leg is going numb.
I should probably go back and start at the beginning. You, dear reader, you must know this legacy, for I am in the last hour of my life. You must know that I have found what lurks in the dark corners of the Earth.
It begins two months ago. I'm young and restless, and in my insatiable desire to be a writer, I must find a sanctum where I can do my work. It's my time to show
longdead leafa longdead leaf
burnt brown in the depth of green
cups a handful of fresh water
a leaf left behind
holds something of worth
forgoing death with its dead body
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More