Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-26444017-20160802003754/@comment-26444017-20160806133124

Here's the latest edit. It was just this part, so no point to link the rest of the story. I wrote it up quickly, so it probably needs a fair amount of refining.

It's been twenty-seven days, and each day the visions get more and more intense. The starry-eyed shadows have been following me everywhere. The only place they can't reach me is in my home. The bastards catch me every time I leave. They've gotten more... creative... since the asylum. Everywhere I go, the scenery and people turn into fleshy piles and shadows, all in the blink of an eye. Sometimes, the people wouldn't be shadows, but instead twisted, mutilated corpses. It doesn't stop there. If I try to go anywhere, they corner me, cut me open, burn me...

I feel everything, the agonizing pain of mutilation. It's torture, literally. I can't go anywhere. I'm starting to run out of food. I don't trust canned foods al all anymore. I'ts like a god damn game of surprise. What's inside this time? A bunch of eyes, strands of hair? The distortions have invaded my home. Even now, the walls in the living room are pulsating, like a heartbeat, and the t.v. only shows static. I don't think anyone will believe me, and I'm scared to go outside. They have me surrounded. I think they are waiting for me to leave.