twisted being

twisted being

by D A Walker

666 words (purely accidental)



Lines and shapes of purple and green flashed and blurred out of the darkness throughout all that could be seen.

He had no idea of what was going on, the only discernible image of surroundings was from sound, a mash of moans, squeals, crying, bubbling, chattering and beeping like old computers creating an image of utter debauchery. All accompanied by a constant drone of static noise and a slimy oozing sound making him wish he could close his ears and be left only with the lights.

But that wasn’t possible.

Terror had been present for as long as he could remember being there, he didn’t dare move, speak or do anything that could possibly bring any attention. He was here, there were others here but he didn’t know why he was here. It was bad so far but it could always get worse, his whole life had told him so.

So he stayed where he was. Shocked and frozen in place, not that it was cold. The temperature was warm at least. And then it came in wafts.

Gusts of hot chocking air mixed with a concoction of all kinds of powerful pungent scents of burnt rich sugar, stagnant urine, biting chemicals and many others that turned the stomach and raised the bile for the back of his throat.



Life hadn’t been great before, it had always hard. Too many people and not enough of anything had always made it hard. But he was tough, a little small, but he had always made his own way and never gave up.

Then again there had been help, no matter what he could count on his sister. The times they had together seemed like a lifetime away, in this place. A few years older and bit taller than he was she was always there. And it made him want to cry.

She was there when the lights went out and was she here now. The same thoughts came back again and again. Was she here? Should he call to her? Was hers one of the screaming or whimpering voices?

So he did nothing, as doing something would bring attention. He didn’t want that and it made him want to cry again. For the fear of this place, for the fear that his sister was here but more because he couldn’t help his sister, like she had always helped him.



Trying to move revealed nothing, the sensation of moving was gone. No control and feeling of nothing to control was startling. No arms, no legs, nothing.

Only the colors, the sounds and the smell were there. These were his world and he knew this world was hell.



Time passed, as it always had done but it was different here. He couldn’t remember how long he had been here or when he had last eaten or slept. He could remember though that he had done neither of those two things since being here and that had been a long, long time.



The terror was always there and the constant fear of being exposed. Staying hidden and staying quiet was becoming a part of him, even though he had not made any sound in all the time that he was there.

In one startling moment he realized it was all slipping away, everything. All of his memories, all of his precious moment were disappearing. He hadn’t realized at first, it was slow, gradual. Now he saw it for what it was. This was why he was here. That was the purpose of this place, to take you and turn you into something else, something that was not you you.

With a terrifying release of urgency and pain he screamed. He screamed until his lungs were ready to burst and his voice not capable of making the sounds anymore. Then he cried and sobbed and moaned adding his voice to the choir around him.



Still nothing happened.



The last conscious thought of his own was that he couldn’t remember his sister’s face.