x-posted from tinylies.org
I think I’ve finished the actual writing part for “Pain”. It’s only supposed to be a short response to a writing prompt, so I didn’t really go into detail or spend a lot of time on world-building, but I’d like to eventually revisit it sometime in the future. Motivation is always such a problem for me, though.
Take, for example, this post. I should be taking pictures right now to finish the whole damn thing off, and instead, I’m dilly-dallying about on wordpress, talking about what needs to be done as I actively avoid doing it.
Anyway, American Horror Story the other night was pretty decent. Gonna need significantly more Dandy and Gloria, and if I could get a scene of Dot impaled on a stick that is later revealed to be Maggie’s perforated corpse, I would be ever so grateful.
The house they arrived at seemed to be feigning abandonment. The yard was unused and phantom quiet, as still as a cemetery; the exterior was freshly painted and the front porch glowed in the eerie light provided by a small lamp outside of the windowless door. And yet there remained an uneasy suggestion of hollowness, as if though, despite the house’s tidy outward appearance, inside it would offer nothing but empty rooms and dusty sadness.
“Who lives here?” Bella asked, rubbing nervously at her bare arms.
“The Grunt family,” Olive responded, nodding at a dimly lit window where a blonde woman drifted past like a wraith. “The youngest son is terminal.”
Bella shivered, thinking of her own young son and praying that she’d never be called to her own front door on such an unhappy mission. “Can we save him?”
“No,” Olive said, softly. “That is not our place. But we can unburden him.”
For a long, tortured moment, they lingered on the cement path, side-by-side as they prepared themselves for the task before them.
Finally, Bella looked to Olive, and her eyes were burning from the inside out. “I don’t like pain.”
“No,” Olive shook her head. “But who does?”
x-posted from tinylies.org
Excerpt from “Pain”:
“Put your hands on him. One on his face – anywhere on his face, that’s fine – and one on his heart.”
Bella did as she was instructed, gently placing one hand directly in the middle of the boy’s sweat-slicked face and the other on his desperate, rabbit heart.
She looked helplessly at Olive, unsure what to do next.
“Concentrate,” Olive said, lowering herself onto a chair across from the bed. “Think of the Pain gathering inside of him, under your hands. Concentrate on absorbing it.”
She imagined the Pain, hot white with rotten, purple-black veins, pooling beneath the skin where her hands rested.
It filled her hands. Hot, burning hot. It spread up into her arms, travelling fast, expanding in her chest like a balloon filled with razors and broken glass. Overfilling, ready to burst. .
It hurt like hell.
She wasn’t like this when they found her. No matter what they try to tell you, she wasn’t like this when she came here.
She was normal, then. Afraid, and confused, and angry. She’d thrown herself against the gate and sworn to punish them. She’d reached beneath the barrier, touched my hands and promised to save me.
She wasn’t like this, then. A soundless, crawling thing that tore flesh into ragged strips with her teeth, that chewed on bones and licked blood from the floor.
They did this to her.
Warning: There is going to be a sudden influx of sim stories over the next couple of days. I began taking story prompts over at tumblr and now I want to collect them over here for the sake of convenience/because this was supposed to be my writing blog. Flee in droves, or don’t.
Originally posted at my tumblr. Pictures are a little sparse because I was posting directly to tumblr, which has a picture limit of 10. Naturally, I realized belatedly that it would make much more sense to post to livejournal and link back. Of course, livejournal then began acting obnoxious, so I guess I’ll just post things wherever accessible until I finally succumb to the urge to buy another domain.
The screaming had stopped a while ago, but her head still aches with it, her thoughts swollen and bruised.