Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25444551-20140920210844

It was the last few weeks I noticed the spot, just a little lump, on my arm, a little bit itchy and puffy. It was pale, I barely noticed it in the morning, went to work, continued my daily life, went out with friends, got home, and as I got changed for the shower, I noticed it, just above my wrist, a little blip on my skin, after trying, and failing, to burst the thing, I left it and got ready for bed.

The next morning, I got ready for my work, grabbed my trousers and put on my shirt, heading out the door. I checked my arm as I walked, “it’s just a normal spot, it’ll take a couple days to grow a head, and then I’ll get rid of it” I thought to myself. I continued to catch glimpses of it on my arm all day, I got this nagging feeling, it looked bigger than yesterday, what was a tiny blip now seemed more noticeable, but that just had to be what spots do, I reasoned.

The next few days were odd, I continued work as normal, not noticing until a co-worker pointed it out, “you better get that checked out, it looks infected or something” he said as we chatted, a look of concern on his face. I looked down and noticed it had changed, there were several small boils, the area surrounding it looking purple-ish black, like a black eye. I scowled, “yeah, I’ll look into it when I have the time”

On the way home I grabbed some heavy duty spot cream, I scrubbed my arm until it hurt, after a half hour in the bathroom I felt satisfied, the area on my skin was red, the spots had broken and white puss had begun trickling out of the raw orifices. It wasn’t until later it began to sting, and itch, I spent the whole evening itching and scratching, picking open the wounds, I was glad they were gone, or so I’d thought.

The next morning I freaked out, the spots had covered my arm, going from my wrist to my elbow, it looked hideous, the spots had healed and grown considerably larger, they were solid lumps about the size of small marbles, I called the doctor, telling him what had happened, “mhm, mhm, I understand, please, stay at home, I’ll have to make a house call, where do you live?” after finishing our conversation, I hung up the phone, sighing and leaning back, I checked out my body, noticing that the fingers on my other hand were starting to show small spots on them, I tried to relax, called in at work to say I wouldn’t be in, made some coffee to pass the time, after a few hours I fell into a deep sleep,

I woke with a jump, worried I’d missed the doctor, I moved to the front door only to find it locked, the same for my windows, wooden boards had been placed methodically across my windows, I could barely see through the breaks and cracks in the wood, it was pitch black outside, people shambling about, doing their daily business.

I examined myself, the spots had spread, covering my right arm, and up to the elbow of my left, as well as blotches all over the rest of my body. As I itched, dead skin and white puss fell the the floor, each time I broke a spot, it would come back even larger, the spot they appeared had turned green and blotchy, huge calluses covering my arm, my vision went blurry, I could barely stand up.

The next week was spent in a haze, I watched people amble about outside in a stupor, I tried to eat but everything made me throw up, my skin peeled, coating the floor by the window in dried, dead skin flakes and dried puss. It hurt to walk, and it was so itchy. The itches, the itches were the only thing I could coherently think of, it was the most horrific torture I’d ever felt, my skin crawled as pustules broke and my skin came away like dandruff.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"">I was brought back to reality when I itched my cheek, I clawed at the side of my face feverishly before I felt something hard and slimy, I felt around, opening my mouth to realize I’d scratched through my skin, I looked about me, finding myself coated in puss and blood, my fingers, my arms, were almost atrophied, my nails were long and the ends were caked in black, crawling myself to a mirror, I saw myself, entire patches of skin were missing, leaving behind squishy red meat, as I touched at it, it melted to the touch, liquefied lumps of what was my liver stick to my fingers like custard, I felt hungry, famished, logic would dictate after this long of not eating, or even this much serious physical injury, I should be dead.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"">I saw the shimmer of white in the mirror, realizing I had no hair, and large patches of white bone were showing through my head. I would have panicked, I probably should have, but my thoughts, my brain power was getting slower and slower, I dragged myself up the stairs, I think I lost three, no, four toenails on the way, one along with the toe, before dropping myself into bed.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"">I woke up groggily, attempting to lift myself off the bed I simply rolled off, finding my legs were at horrific angles, I snapped them back into place before standing up, no feeling now, just thought. I slowly made my way down the stairs; the only thing I could think of was food, but something special, a treat while I was ill.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"">I looked at the full body mirror, I was just skin and bones, the large stomach cavity open wide, the remnants of my organs laying in a mushy heap over my pelvis, my eyes were grey, I was missing several teeth and fingers, but it had stopped, the spots I was riddled with no longer bothered me, my skin and muscles were dead, but still moving, pink mucus was dripping from my eyes and nose, obviously my brain, but that didn’t matter either. People wouldn’t mind if I took a stroll out to the park. Those wooden planks didn’t pose that much of a problem, the broken glass stuck in my arm looked so pretty in the sunlight, and even though I lost some nails doing so, breaking those boards apart wasn’t that difficult.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"">As I made my way towards my local park, people seemed to run away from me, I continued non the less, when I’d gotten there, police had tried to shoot me, it didn’t matter, they can’t do much anymore. I only stopped when I found a little girl, quivering on a park bench, I bent down to smell her, before opening my crooked, sharp maw and tearing out the side of her neck, it was so sweet the way she tried to push away from me as she bled out, I continued to feast, tearing off her meat to have a feast, after all, I had been bedridden for the past few weeks. The police continued to shoot at me even after I finished, turns out that the barely digested child-meat had begun to fall out of my stomach cavity.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"">One of them fired into my heart, spurting blood over the ground around me, although I paid him back as I pulled out his eye with my teeth. The baker down the road seemed good at hitting things with that rolling pin, until I took off her fingers. Even some of my co-workers were good with their guillotines and staplers, but it did them no good as I peeled away their skin with what remained of my teeth.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"">As I walked away from the husk of a village, I examined myself once more, seeing nothing wrong with me, I may be lacking some skin, my organs may be broken, my body might even be riddled with bullet holes and staples, but I knew, the spots weren’t an infection, they were a gift!

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"">And that’s why, when I come knocking on your door tonight, please just let me in without a fight, because you should have my gift too, like all the others, and it’s so much easier if you don’t fight back.

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<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"">  <ac_metadata title="Just wrote my first little pasta, hoping for some feedback"> </ac_metadata>