《Shorts(Stories)》 Yourself(1) Cold and sinking were they as if this very moment he would be swallowed by the most outrageously incomprehensible beast that had mauled him, and so he was confused alone not aware of what had happened to him, can he truly free himself, blasphemous! Before he could question such deeds, he screams in extreme agony only to not hear himself, did they also leave him falling off out of their places (his ears)? The world has painted itself in crimson agony and his vision was dyed in dark red blood, but no blood was gushing out his face, did he wonder why (he did not!)? Rasped breathing trying to fill his lungs with vitality the terrified person with his hanging countenance lay in a very familiar and very unfamiliar bed, after returning home the young man thought he could find comfort (he is not in a comfortable situation even though he is sleeping). The nightmarish reality has gnawed on him as if it has dawned upon him, that even if a person cannot be themselves until they have a mirror to reflect upon themselves, the mirror makes them aware of their flaws, how their contours are not better than him or her, might be better if this looked more like this or like that, they pretty much dislike knowing or observing their ugly selves (your inner self, that which have no image, only you can see). The discomfort of looking at the ugly self was easy to get away with if he were to shatter the mirror of reflection, but even after that can he truly avoid his pathetic self? Blaming upon this accursed world that has fumed of crimson radiance all around him, making nothing clearly visible and air so heavy that he had to hyperventilate himself only to feel breathless again. An atmosphere so haunting that it would leave one in extreme fear. As the cycle of this incomprehensible fear struck and bombarded his existence in these few minutes or months of gloomy crimson horror, his eyes almost on the verge of popping out of his socket, bulging in them his veins visible, his face... more like the mask of flesh upon his skull, not only his facial skin but his entire face with protruding flesh hanging only by the remaining bit at had still attached to his face. Like an aluminium can''s the top lid has been partially removed, exposing the exotic food inside and creating juvenile excitement, but for him, that was not the case, his breathing still rasped, the vision dyed in crimson, and his mind screaming in agony or perhaps he even screamed himself but he hears not. "hEY, help me, please somebody help me!" And so, he cried, but nobody helped him as if they couldn''t. His hands were numb and paralyzed as if they had no use of themselves to help him get rid of his agony, there was truly nothing he could do for himself, only to cry, to cry for help, for... "Help me it''s falling off, can''t you see it''s obviously falling off, aaaaah my face is." Falling off is what was he calling out, nobody was free enough to recognize the youth''s plea in pain. They are concerned about their daily lives, some in a rush towards their workplace, caressing their baring, lest they should appear untidy, looking at their watches and keeping track of life. However. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "All of you why can''t you listen, I know you guys hear me, help me, aaaaah." He stretched his neck tightly upwards fighting gravity, using it to save his face from falling off, he could feel the displaced horrid part, the skin surrounding his right eyes, not in place they again made him terrified of this precarious situation. If he were to mistakenly look down, he would have his face mask falling off, exposing the grotesque flesh beneath. So, in this precipice if only... "All you need to do is adjust it, that''s all you have to do, that''s all I''m asking, don''t abandon me." "I know you can hear me, I am sure of it, you all are purposely avoiding me, look here, I''m barely managing it, just hold my face and stick it to my skull, how hard it can be?" "Hey, I know you are all listening, all of us are supposed to help each other, how much of a scum of a human you all can be, just help me, I deserve it. "You are obliged to help me, can you not see how much pain I''m going through, shouldn''t you guys stick back to face again, hey help me now, I deserve it, you supposed to do it, how can you ignore somebody in this sorry state." "You ridiculous people." The more he screams, the blurrier the figures appear as if they had all consented to abandon the cursed man, the air tickles in an itchy manner on his beneath-revealed flesh, from where surprisingly no blood was gushing out, he was almost insane due to his fear. The anger was surging through all his sense of reasoning, all his mind was occupied with how this happened to him, why his pitiful self was abandoned, even a modicum of support would have become a beacon of hope in this tapestry of his despairing reality, why was something his own, something so precious falling off, like a cover to being forcefully snatched from his face, revealing his disgusting beneath bared flesh with no skin and beautiful mask to cover his self. As he agonizes in pain, making no attempts spare to seek help, not even once could he use his own help to provide support. Once the darkness consumes the horizon would he save himself from the loss of his face, he could feel his misplaced skin slightly touching the parts it shouldn''t. The mask of his skin hanging, the right hole of his eyes, where his right eyes should be, was now making it difficult to see more due to a misplaced hole where it should have been filling with his right eye. The same right eye was being obstructed by his skin mass, blocking his vision, but did he have any use for it? (No, he did not!) Not knowing how many months he has been trapped in this crimson hell, will he ever be freed from the depths of his self? When all of this will end, how much time has passed, how much longer, then, is this ending, It has been so long, for how long, aaaaaaaaa- His crazed screaming like a haunting melody resounded everywhere, if perhaps he understood where his self was, never had any moments to ponder over such a basic question, in his desperate state he continued to scream in pain, horrified. "When, will the help arrive?" All his attention was focused on this point, he couldn''t even bring himself to ask about how to get himself in this traumatizing situation, what had led him into this, what was about to happen to him, in fact, he didn''t even bother to consider using his own hands to save face, to at least alleviate the pain of losing more of his body. The pain of losing one''s precious limbs is only known when one, hands are cut off, and dismembered, and when legs are dismembered, truly they realize the blessing they had is now, gone. The fury of crimson surrounding him as if it would engulf him in the hellish fire that was raging, so much so that it almost felt as if he would be devoured by the nightmare itself burned to dust, but the suspense of the pain and the horrid view of his imprisoned state made his suffering even more torturous. That was only if, only if... "Huh!..." "A nightmare??" His hands were slightly numb, due to the restricted flow of blood in his palms, it was puffy and hard to move for several milliseconds. Rubbing his eyes while feeling its hotness he sighs. "....." So Funny! You know what, when things get boring, I go around and look for some change. People really make a big deal out of boredom, if you step out of your boundaries, you can realize various kinds of ways to have fun. I walked, I walked I walked, I was walking then when I was walking, this guy was sleeping on the roadside, now now don¡¯t get me wrong, sleeping at midnight is not all that unusual. What was unusual was, that he was sleeping outside, on the roadside, the road was much more like an abandoned lane at that late hour of the night. He had a black thin blanket covering his body, but it didn¡¯t cover his entire body, his legs were exposed to the cold outside, by the way, I am not that foolish to not cloth properly, I was covered enough much that the cold was not affecting me at all, unlike that fool, who was sleeping on the floor, even with his shoes on, with shoes hmm hmm with his shoes, that would be bad, that could get bad, then again if it comes to that, that is that this is this. Nonetheless, I had my mask covering my face even if that were to happen, I wouldn¡¯t be in trouble but that would ruin my experience, that¡¯s for sure. Oh, sorry sorry, I apologize for going on and on without including you, I get that feeling of being left out, it¡¯s annoying isn¡¯t it, so I went to that guy, I shook him gently, of course I don¡¯t want to wake him up, even I would feel annoyed being woken up by a strange guy with a black kitty mask on his face. I poked his shoulders gently but he gave me no response, it was clear to me then. I took out my knife from my pocket, it was a sharp knife, I can say that much for sure, it was a knife, if you would jokingly rub it on your neck, you will slit your throat, yes even jokingly and I¡¯m not even joking. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. You don¡¯t get it, do you, so I pushed down his head with one hand while my other hand was rubbing violently against his neck, then I started applying as much pressure I could, with a gargling sound, yes like that sound you make during gargling water, however, this idiot was gargling red liquid instead of water, that is blood. Not from his mouth but from his slit throat. His body jolted suddenly, I was startled at that, yeah he was shaky, so much so that I started stabbing my knife at his face and all, I stabbed him five times, and suddenly I heard the sound of red blood pouring in great contents from his throat, he was making the same gargling sound with a leak of air from his windpipe. Now that I think back he might have been trying to cry, to cry out in pain but since I slit his throat, his vocal cords must have been messed up. So anyway I continued stabbing anywhere I could, the sound of bloody liquid pouring out of his body started to fade out, but the guy was still moving. He was making a puss sound, yes a pussssss sound, just like that. Then he fell onto the floor even after being stabbed this many times, he was still not dead, this is completely different from what I have seen in the movies, this idiot was still moving, he should have died with that much blood soaking his jacket, but what can I do other than stabbing him. Yes, I stabbed, stabbed, stabbed, stabbed, I kept stabbing him, and that sound of air releasing from a pressure point was very funny to me. And and and, his body was losing strength, so it was very funny, to be honest, it was very funny, so funny that I started laughing, even though I can¡¯t tell what was actually funny about it, but it was funny how he stopped moving at all, and how his eyes balls were bulging out like they are about to fall off from his sockets, it was so funny, if you had seen that you would know how funny actually it was, so funny, so funny so funny, it was really really funny, his eyes are open, are they looking somewhere, bet he saw nothing with those eyes, so funny, it was actually funny, so funny, so funny, so funny, look at him trembling, his lungs are fighting for air, is he suffocating, so funny, so funny, what was funny about it? So funny, funny, funny, how funny it was, hahahahahahah, It was funny, oh he died. Now that I think about it, it¡¯s been so long since I have laughed like that, even remembering it now makes me laugh, so funny it was¡­hahahahahahah, so haha haha, so I walked back to my room to sleep. All that work made me tired so I went back to cuddle in my bed, I have to wake early for my routine and college as well, seeking change for fun is good and all but following a routine is necessary as well. If I mess up, being on my schedule would sure become difficult. But but but, You know what, this was quite refreshing. I want to experience this again. Strange Nightmare! A Strange Nightmare- After struggling through my daily chores, the sun''s scorching heat gave way to the soothing embrace of the moonlight, which radiated across the heavens above. Taking my place at the edge of the bedside, my comfort zone for I can''t remember how long, I sank into deep slumber without much effort. Not that I normally struggle with sleep, but today was different. Suddenly, consciousness washed over me, and the awareness of my surroundings became crystal clear. I didn''t take long to notice the man beside my bedside. His posture was elegant, and although I could have fled had I felt threatened or harmed, such concepts didn''t seem to register in my current state of consciousness. The man appeared to be middle-aged, but it was his face that stood out the most. It was finely chiselled, with a broad forehead, and his skin had an eerie pallor. His eyes were pitch black. He wore a black and white suit, though I hadn''t had the chance to observe such details. Somehow, they were conveyed to me. An inexplicable urge to respond welled up within me, but I found myself unable to do so. Then, the man pressed his hand against my abdomen, just below my ribcage. It was a vulnerable spot, and even a slight application of force there could cause pain. I tried to scream, but my voice wouldn''t respond. For a brief moment, a surge of pain coursed through me, only to vanish as quickly as it had come. It was as if, as long as I didn''t anticipate pain, it couldn''t touch me. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Yet, what truly terrified me was not the pain but the suffocating feeling of paralysis and the eerie countenance of the middle-aged man who had transformed from something almost human into the most horrifying of monsters before my eyes. The vulnerable position I found myself in compelled me to muster every ounce of effort to escape from the creature beside me. Yet, all I could see was the man''s expressionless face, adorned with an underlying anger and hos?lity towards me. His features never contorted with hatred, nor did he utter a word. Instead, his dark, devil- like eyes in that dim, foreboding room bore into me. Even in my state of paralysis, I was frozen, unable to offer any resistance my will might have been capable of. His hatred towards me intensified, and I braced myself for the impending harm from this terrifying entity. His anger reached its zenith, even though his face remained impassive and he uttered no words. Anger. Hatred. Anger. Hatred. Anger. Hatred. Anger. Hatred. Anger. Hatred. Anger. Hatred. Anger. Hatred. Anger. Hatred. Anger. Hatred. Anger. Hatred. Anger. Hatred. Anger. Hatred. Anger. Hatred. Anger. Hatred. Anger. Hatred. In that dark realm, those emotions consumed everything, leaving only a chilling sense of dread. Then, I received a message, but I couldn''t discern who it came from. It wasn''t a voice; it was as if the man''s hatred had conveyed the message to me. The message that concluded this nightmarish experience: "He knows." Terror gripped all my senses, plunging me into darkness, and an inexplicable fear overwhelmed my consciousness. The message was far more terrifying than the monstrous figure in the human mask could ever be. The realization that he knows, he knows who I am, he knows what I am, rooted itself deep within me, without any tangible evidence. From the depths of my heart, I believed, fervently, that this person knew my identity. He knows. "Aaaaa!" A scream tore from my throat as I was jolted awake from the nightmarish ordeal. As I regained my freedom, deep, comforting breaths filled my lungs, and a sense of securitywashed over me, dispelling the fears that had haunted me relentlessly. Yet, even in that moment of respite, I couldn''t escape the lingering belief that... He knows!