It's a stinking, shambling corpse grotesquely parodying life.
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PostPosted: Sat Feb 19, 2005 5:49 am 
<font color=darkred><b>Lorem Ipsum
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Joined: Sat Apr 13, 2002 5:00 pm
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Location: ich bin ein Auslander
<b>Warrimbull translation expedition, The Forest.</b>

<i>All she can see is red.

A bright rich crimson, like blood flowing over flourescent light. It fills her vision, like when you close your eyes and turn your face to the sun. She can feel leather straps chafing into the flesh of her wrists, ankles and neck, and the room's tile floor is cold under her naked back. She strains against the collar around her neck that is one of the five restraints that hold her body against the cool floor, but can see little more than her own oddly flat chest.

Flashes of images intersperse her vision, doctors in white, gauze masks over their faces, syringes full of clear liquid, the blurred shapes of twisted, thrashing trees, a yellow sun setting on a red horizon. They make her head hurt. Her vision swims momentarily, blurring like a cheap movie effect, and she can hear a sound from the side of the room, out of her limited field of vision.

A clicking noise, like guitar picks being flicked against each other (why does she think of such an obscure metaphor?) rythmically coming closer. click click click click click click, she can hear heavy breathing, neither forced nor relaxed, just persisten pant.

and then it's great head comes into view.

A huge yellow beast, a shaggy dog, it's massive head scarred and the dirty yellow fur matted with grime and black blotches of gore. She can feel it's hot, rancid breath on her belly, and now she's panting as it sniffs at her. First her belly button, up over her ribs, it's grimy whiskers tickling her smooth flat chest, then it's cold nose pushing intently at her crotch. Even in the midst of her horror, she realizes that even this feels odd, like things are not where they should be.

The massive head swings back to her belly button, and the beast's lips pull back in a snarl as it growls murderously. Her chest and stomach rise and fall dramatically in terror as she pants fearfully. The little squeaks she whimpers out sound wrong to her ears, but she cannot pick it until the beast growls and sinks it's yellowed fangs into her flesh, tearing at her exposed belly.

The timber of her screams are off, and it finally clicks. They aren't the screams of a horrified grown woman, they are the terrified screams of a small boy.</i>

Even as she feels the animal's jaws savaging her flesh and snapping as it consumes her entrails, she feels something squirming deep withing the cavity, moving through her (his,) ravaged organs. Suddenly, a forearm bursts from the mess that is her mutilated belly, gripping the dog by it's throat. The beast makes a choking whimper before it is forcfully pulled inside her, vanishing into the torn mess of her guts.

Emma wakes gasping for air, the scream caught in her fear-tightened throat. She sits bolt upright in her cot, catching her breath for a few minutes, letting the hot tears flow down her cheeks as she feverously paws at her belly with a shaking hand, to find perfect, unscathed skin.

After her nerves have calmed somewhat, the scientist takes a swig of lukewarm water from her nearby canteen before rising from her cot, the white singlet sticking to her back sweatily as she pulls on a pair of Jaden's boxer she'd pilfered. With a thought for how her boy is doing, the woman takes a look at her watch, 4.15 AM, sits down in the uncomfortable folding chair and distracts herself with some of the recorded data and pictographs she had missed while sleeping.

Before long she is lost in the screens upon screen of information, not understanding anything before her, but having an overal image, a feeling forming in her mind. <i>Perhaps it is just fancy,</i> she thinks, <i>but i feel like all of this is making sense inside my head without understanding...like someone is writing a story inside my head...</i>


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PostPosted: Thu Apr 14, 2005 10:59 pm 
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