I thought I could keep myself from harm's way. I thought I could shelter myself from the world and its most recent troubles, barricade myself in my home, isolation for the sake of preservation. I hadn't realized it at the time, but I was a fool for thinking I could be protected, frightened into believing I could help myself - I had to do something to keep myself alive, and it was something...
I heard the church bells ringing and I knew that someone's life had come to an untimely end. I shook each time the clapper struck the body of the instrument, knowing that they could just as easily have been ringing for me. I couldn't eat the rest of the day, my insides felt like they were in knots. I didn't get any sleep that night, I could only lie in bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark, waiting for the wrath of misguided, angry townsfolk I thought would surely come crashing through my door.
Restless and weary, my night ended when first light shone on my curtains. It had appeared that there would be no angry mob coming after me. Not now, at any rate. For a moment, I actually had a glimmer of hope. Maybe the real witch was apprehended, executed, brought to its end. But alas, deep behind my wishful thinking, part of me knew there was no chance of that. It was much too soon. More blood would be spilled before this was over. Much too much, I would realize later that day. It wasn't much longer after the rooster had crowed that the town crier announced that indeed, someone's life had ended at the hands of frightened and angry citizens. Unfortunately, there were signs that the witch was still out and about. My stomach would've emptied itself onto the floor if it had anything to give, but I could only turn over beneath my covers in extraordinary discomfort.
Throughout the day, I hungered but I couldn't bring myself to eat. I thirsted greatly, but each time I brought a glass of drink to my lips, my stomach churned and twisted. I grew more and more tired as the day dragged on, but I simply could not rest. It seemed that even if the witch didn't personally see to my end, its prolonged presence in the town would surely mean a slow, withering death for me. To pass the time, I stared between the boards on my windows and into the outside world. It was quiet and the stillness was unnerving. Before I knew it, the sun had already begun setting and so far the day passed without incident. I questioned myself, unsure if I had really been conscious the entire say, wondering if I'd really been staring outside the entire time. If I didn't get some rest soon, I was going to die. That much I was certain of. I lit an oil lantern and set it in my room, on the cabinet beside my bed. I knew it to be unwise, sleeping beside the lit lantern, but it was also the only thing I could think to help myself. The light was comforting, there were no ominous shadows to be lurking about, certainly not in my room, not in my own little world. It was a childish thought, really, but it helped. It set me at ease, just seeing how easy it was to fight the terrible darkness. Yet again, I was given some hope. Perhaps there was a chance I'd live through the coming days...
I'd only been asleep for a minute or two when I felt a sharp pain in my left foot. I sifted to the edge of my bed to inspect the source of the pain in the lantern's light and was surprised by what I saw. It appeared that some sort or blister formed on the sole of my foot. This struck me as odd, as I hadn't been doing a great deal of walking that day. Suddenly, and with no small amount of pain, the growth had moved across my flesh, making its way up towards my ankle. I let out a cry of pain and shock as I fell out of my bed, more frightened than I'd ever remembered being. I struggled to get to my feet, shaking and supporting myself on the cabinet. I had to do something and do it quickly. Grabbing my lantern, I hobbled to the kitchen and set the light atop the wood stove. With quivering hands, I retrieved a paring knife from the cutlery rack and sat on the floor in the lantern's glow.
Whatever was under my skin, I could feel it digging up the back of my calf. With the aid if the light, I located the lump
the spider
crawling over the muscle. Using the point of the knife, I tried to pierce the flesh right in front of it so I could port it out, but with unimaginable speed it deftly moved around my point of attack. Tears flooded my eyes and blood trickled from the self-inflicted wound, but I couldn't let that stop me. I took another stab at the thing
the itsy-bitsy spider
with no avail. More blood poured from my leg and as I tried again and again, it had already made it up to my thigh. As desperation and an inexplicable need to take more drastic measures set in, I began carving large chunks of flesh from my leg. I had to get it
crawls up and won't come out
out of me, I had to stop it from getting further. I fought through the tears and excruciating pain with clenched teeth, fueled by my fears. The next bit of flesh I crudely removed exposed muscle, sliced veins and arteries with an audible squelch as blood squirted and frothed forcefully from the open vessels, pumped at an alarming rate by my rapidly-beating heart. That's when it dawned on me, the thing was headed for
it wants
my heart. It was tunneling
it needs
a path through my hip, leaving a trail of burning
to lay its eggs
sensations, and I chased after it with the edge of my blade. As hard as I tried, my efforts just weren't enough. My insides were on fire as I felt it crawling
in your heart
through my gut. I was out of options and out of time - there was one thing left that I could do.
badump
I raised the knife and
badump
pulled it into my stomach before dragging it up
badump
to slice myself open. I yanked and pulled at what my hands could get ahold of, spilling my intestines onto the hardwood floor.
badump
My stomach was torn open in the process
BADUMP
and what fluids remained in my stomach splashed over my organs
BADUMP
but I wasn't concerned about that. I had to get it outta me.
those goddamned eggs
I had to keep its spawn from hatching, keep them from crawling inside me, keep then from devouring me...
BADUMP
I dug my hand into my open gut, up into my ribcage, wrapped my hands around the pulsating egg clutch and ripped it out.
[h4]BADUMP[/h4]
I help it up before my eyes with a manic grin on my face. There it was, beating like
your heart
a drum, slowing as its lively warmth waned from exposure to the cold.
badump
If it hadn't felt like my lungs burst, I would've been laughing myself to death. All I could do was draw in ragged breaths
badump
and enjoy my victory.
[small]badump[/small]
I just wished it wasn't so...
[small]ba...[/small]
...damned...
[small]...dump[/small]
...cold.
