The Tunnel 008

The Tunnel

The following is an excerpt from VERMiN:

He dug the mud from his eyes and face to see rats. There were two of them the size of cats and they rested on their hindquarters, paws together as if in prayer and tails twice as long as they should be waving behind them as if to signal for his attention. Above all, their eyes drew his focus with bright yellow light that glowed with streaking beams, illuminating the darkness around them.

He told his arms and legs to move him upright, but they stayed, as stunned as his mind. So paralyzed was Isaac, not even his nerves would stir.

“You are here to hear,” they spoke in unison, though their whiskered snouts and triangular buckteeth remained still. “Hear. Not fear. After all, we are not here and neither are you. Learn to not fear us now so that when we are, when you are, you will fear us not then either.”

Isaac tried to talk, but his face was without muscle.

“Hear, not speak. You will see and you will listen. Your tongue would only stifle you. Now stand.”

His body obeyed before his mind agreed to and once he was standing, the rats hopped to his knees and climbed him up to his arms. He found his hands held out in front of him and the rats climbed over his chest then across his arms to rest on his palms. They were weightless and left no sensation in their ascent.

“You have questions because you believe your mind can make sense of this. It cannot. Yet. Not until you see as She sees. Question nothing, for though this is not happening, it is much more real than if it actually were. Walk.”

The rats turned their backs to him and their glowing eyes were beams that illuminated the dark as Isaac stepped through the sinking mud. Their tails wrapped around each wrist in a spiral that led all the way to his elbows.

Their light only reached so far and as his body moved at their will he noticed the ground losing its give and turning into hardened dirt and eventually grass. It was damp on his feet and then there was light besides the rat’s eyes. Stars were there as if they had always been. Trees were there as if they never hadn’t been. Leaves and twigs crunched under his bare feet and though they hurt, there was no way to change his remotely controlled self.

They reached a clearing where the light was no longer brightest from the rats’ neon yellow eyes and suddenly they stopped him and turned to face him once again.

“Above us is The Tunnel. You must not go into The Tunnel. You must not look into The Tunnel. When the moon is orange it is not the moon.”

The Ocean 007

The Ocean

The following is an excerpt from VERMiN:

The terror always started with an ocean. Not that he was in the ocean or even above it, but that the ocean was all there was, weighing so much, being so much that nothing else existed. Then the horizon would rise and all around him were walls of water until he was completely encapsulated, claustrophobia rising within him until it shook him by the nerves. The orb of air pulsed as the ocean pushed in and once it took him, swallowing him on all sides, the choking began. The water forced its way into his mouth and blinded him with its darkness. His temples compressed under the pressure. It swarmed around him, groping his naked skin and twisting his muscles. The force of water kept his jaw stretched open as a continuous stream jammed past his uvula and into his throat. Salty liquid burst from his nostrils. Only once the pain reached its worse did he submit his will to it and only then would the dream end.

But he wouldn’t wake up, not completely. From there he would get out of his bed, crying, stumbling and mouthing nonsense. He was there the whole time and remembered it all, but his body was not under his control. His mouth and limbs moved, his eyes flowed, and he thrashed his way to his parents room where his mother would hug him tight to stop his flailing and his father would stand with his arms crossed, observing his son’s odd behavior analytically.

It happened three times before his parents consulted Pastor Scott. His mother was convinced it was a demon. His father was convinced his boy just wanted attention. Pastor Scott was convinced the Lord wanted the boy drugged and so he was and it worked.

Isaac took one purple pill each night before bed. It took care of the night terrors by stopping the dreams all together. Through his school years and even after, the pills kept sleep easy. Without them, he couldn’t sleep at all. He had tried to go without them, figuring sleep would eventually come, but just as his body settled he would be jerked out of relaxation, wide awake though deathly tired.

For the first time since the night terrors, Isaac had finally settled into unconsciousness with the aid of fatigue, lost blood and a concussion. There were no dreams and he woke up strapped to a table when fingers opened one of his eyelids. He tried to move his head, but it too was secured.

“Don’t move,” he heard and Isaac looked around frantically. “Stop it. Keep your eye still. You’re really going to want me to get this right.”

The Vermin 006

The Vermin

The following is an excerpt from VERMiN:

“Inside you go,” spoke the rats together, “but without us. What you will see not even we know. The eVERMINd forbids us entrance. She alone knows what lies inside. Only you have the ability to enter. Only you have the ability to exit. No matter what happens, no matter how bad it gets, remember that this is only the beginning. Worse things happen everyday than what you will face within.”

The rats unwound their tails and crawled back up his arms to his shoulders. One at a time they squirmed their way back into Isaac’s already open mouth. His jaw popped this time as they pushed through. After Isaac doubled over, he found new control over himself and spat away the hair they left behind. Once they passed the tube down to his stomach, their scaly tails sliding over the length of his tongue, he could feel them no longer and was sure they were gone.

With control over his body once again, he was able to see the building in full, still mindful not to stare into the source of the building’s orange glow. Double doors before him opened as his eyes scaled the structure. It was stone, all seemingly one piece with a spire topping a tower, and he entered slowly through the threshold of the cathedral, so much bigger than the outside could realistically allow.

“Children,” boomed a familiar voice from the pulpit, “are the foundation of society.”

The pews were packed with eager listeners that nodded their heads.

“Our youth are the future and it is our duty as their guardians to usher them in to the adulthood.”

Isaac walked down the middle aisle and stopped as the speaker came into view. He wore a royal purple robe with a heavy gold sash that was draped around his shoulders and hung down past his waist.

“We must guide them, mold them, so that they may continue our legacy and facilitate the future of a One True Church. We must teach them the ways of adulthood. They must be ushered in to their enlightened selves by the bodies of The Holy Elders.”

As Isaac continued down the aisle, passing by row after row of attentive listeners, it became clear that the speaker wore a mask. Big round eyes with slits instead of pupils were larger than goggles. The nose was feline and curled ears stuck out at the sides looking more like devil horns. The teeth, so purely white took up the majority of the purple face. They were long and thin, squeezed together forming a hideous smile, and the corners of his mouth curled to create the shape of a crescent moon.

“By their holy hands, we will teach them to grow mentally, emotionally, physically.”

Isaac stopped in the middle of the aisle, unsure of whether the speaker could see him.

“Love is the strongest of all emotion. It is a creation of our God and it is a sin to withhold it from the unholy.”

Only recognizing it then, but sure it had been going on since well before, Isaac turned to a sound from the pews. It was wet and smacking like how he remembered his father used to eat chewy rare steak. It was the audience. Not one, but all of them, crunched emphatically on something tough and juicy between their teeth.

“Today we offer up our children to The Holy Elders that they may take them under their tutelage and transform them in to Holy beings.”

Isaac’s throat closed and his stomach became sick. The people of the audience were eating. Blood overflowed from pools in their mouths down their chins. Some held their tongues with their fingers to chomp through them. Some already had and chewed on their disconnected organ noisily.

“Bring us The Innocents of Impurity so that they may be assigned their Holy Elder.”

The Mammoth 005

The Mammoth

The following is an excerpt from VERMyN:

He went to bed that night lying on his back with his fingers crossed behind his head, thinking of revenge. Absurdities came to mind. Guns, knives, fire, poison, but they were too difficult to attain and way too ordinary. No, Sydney needed something perfect. He needed something that would shut down this place once and for all.

With that last thought on his mind, Sydney fell asleep.

He found himself in that same cage. The red light still monopolized everything. He could move though and when he turned he noticed the door to his kennel was open. He sat up. He could see and he could move and so he did, crawling out of the cage to better experience the horror that had always been there, but never noticed until now.

All around him were cages just like his, but locked with children still inside. They were his peers, all with skin color somewhere within the spectrum of black and brown. He never heard crying, but there was crying now and it came from all the kids he knew from his school. They appealed to Sydney, yelling for him to free them and he just watched their agony. He could smell urine and shit for the first time coming at him from every angle. Some banged on the cages, some put their fingers between the checkered grates and rattled them and others just whimpered, putting their faces as deep into a corner as they could.

“You are not them,” came a million single voices in unison.

The rattling and screaming pleas of the children came to sudden silence.

“They are nothing because they are trapped as you once were and no longer will be. You are now in control.”

Sydney didn’t want to look, but he forced his eyes up to his fear anyway. The man was white skinned, pale as snow and above his shoulders rested the skull of a wooly mammoth, tusks curled out over his head. The bone seemed almost yellow against the dead white of its skin.

“You can be free from them, from all of this, but there is a price you must pay.”

The question entered Sydney’s dreaming mind and was answered without any utterance of words on his part.

“You must kill, Syd. You must kill them all.”

He wasn’t going to try to speak because he was so used to the paralysis of his mouth, but he did and was surprised as he felt the words rise from his lungs and tumble over his tongue to be absorbed by his own ears. “Who are you?”

“I have many names. I am Millions. I am Silver. I am MAMOTH. Together, you and I can be ALL.”

The man was tall with legs so skinny they seemed like stilts. His upper body was slouched to fit himself within the low ceiling of the red lit dungeon, but of all the strangeness, what captivated Syd was the absence of arms. There were hands though despite the being’s lack of upper limbs. Millions of them swirled around the slender blinding white body of the demon, opening and closing, making fists and spreading fingers to reveal the mouth orifices in their centers. They moved swiftly in a swirl around him like a force field and Sydney could see well enough to notice the lips, teeth and tongues working away in the air as if communicating to him in their own strange language. The teeth chattered and bit. The lips puckered, tensed and gaped. The tongues rolled, lashed and slobbered.

“How?” asked Sydney. “They are so many. I cannot-”

“Yes!” interrupted Millions. “You, Sydney Solomon Snider II, cannot. You must change. You must give yourself to me. You must obey. Success is not possible for you. Success comes from me and you together. Accept me and we are as one. Allow me into you, Syd, and the world will be Ours to destroy.”

“I want them dead,” said Sydney. “Everyone.”

“Allow me in and it will be done. Say it.”

Sydney looked down to the filthy floor of the dream world. The piss from the children created streams that rolled between the wired cages carrying small clumps of fecal matter floating on top like dead driftwood. He looked at their eyes: big, watery and pleading.

“I allow you in. Help me. Save me from this. Show me how to kill them.”

“Say my name and make it your own. Give up your past and take me as your mother, father and only friend.”

A tear boiled in Syd’s dream eye. He didn’t want to cry. He was happy, but the realization that he had no friends, that the white man of a million hands was to be the first he could remember, filled his heart with a joy so strong it could only be evil.

“Silver. I am your son and I will obey.”

The hands swirled around Millions and then departed, sharp and quick, directly towards Sydney. His young dream body maintained his balance as they covered him completely. Their mouths no longer sucked, but chewed. Sydney felt his skin tearing. He felt his flesh beneath leaving his body. He felt the fingers ripping off meat, digging in and pulling it out with their fingernails, and feeding it to the mouths in their palms.

Sydney tried not to collapse, but the pain, even in dream was too severe to withstand. He hit the floor, feeling his bones where the meat was picked clean clink against the musty brick.

Death seemed so close, so imminent, until the teeth and fingers relieved their attack and flexed backwards to allow the tongues to come through. They licked with a liquid so foreign it couldn’t be saliva. It was cold, freezing him, but with a strange comfort.  Stroke by slimy stroke replaced the flesh and skin their teeth had torn away with new material. Inhuman innards filled him back to what he once was, only better.

They were still licking when he woke up and the first word he spoke was his new, true, name. Now and forever.

“Syd Sylver.”

The Chameleon 004

The Chameleon

The following is an excerpt from Book 4 of LIVEONNOEVIL entitled Master Reset:

Gordo looked out over the water and the garden beyond. “In the name of Sahasa,” proclaimed Gordo, “Chameleons, I command you, bring me to the Garden.” Around him they appeared from nothing and took his body across the water, through the hanging vines and over the floating lily pads to the entrance where they dissipated as his feet touched the soft ground. He walked, but this time obeyed the winding path, following all of the twists and turns even where it would have been easier to skip ahead by passing through the veil of vines and shrubs.

Pink was right. Arms was wrong. It was a labyrinth, but only where it mattered. It was where it began for him and where the end would begin. The chameleons lined the path of the garden labyrinth and blinked their bodies in and out of visibility. It wasn’t a long way to the middle, but the garden took him everywhere within it but there first. Closer in to the middle, the fruit was brighter, the grass as well, and with every step forward the light of the Garden became stronger until he was standing in front of the tree having touched nothing on the way there.

He approached the tree slowly and knelt before it placing his sword before its trunk. He closed his eyes, but before he could speak, from above he heard, “Yo ho, Gordo!” He looked up to see Disloyal Games sitting on a branch, feet dangling and orange juice dripping from his mouth into his beard. “I underestimated you,” he said and jumped down beside Gordo. “Tricky boy. Tall tales of a snake in the tree, huh? Very good. Had me fooled considering it’s what they all say, I can’t blame myself for trusting you, but blame is worthless. What do you say? Let’s let bygones be bigots and have some fun.”

“Yes,” said Gordo. “We shall.”

“Alright! Glad to hear it! ‘Bout time you had the sense knocked out of ya. What about we go flip Sahasa’s Table? That’s always a good time, but…no. We need something better. Let’s see, we could messy Ills’ Room of Not with a fruit fight or better yet, mix up Meade’s Kitchen, free everything in the Exhibit. You know I would say start with Arms. It’s a shame, though. The Dungeon grows and grows. Ya know Fast has taken over the Multimedia Room. That might be fun, but maybe too easy.”

“We’ll do better, but first you must wait. I must be prepared.” Gordo turned his head to gaze up the tree. “If it is of your will then take me. Sahasa, free me from this prison of lies and strip me of my afflictions. Make me new for You.”

Games took a step back, scoffed, thought of something to say, but then laughed harder and harder until he caught his breath and opened his eyes to speak. But he didn’t. Instead, terror and fear startled him backwards until he fell into a shrub of orange glowing flowers. The black snake was long and so dark, its body a terrible void that brought Games into a shudder, the likes of which he hadn’t experienced in ages.

He sat with the orange light of the flowers illuminating his face as the snake curled its upper body around Gordo’s neck. It pulled him into the air still supported by the tree and Gordo didn’t struggle as its body turned bright neon green. As the color intensified, so did the pain and then Gordo was kicking until all of a sudden he wasn’t and his skin turned pale, reflecting green from the light of the snake. He remained there still for another moment until the snake’s head drooped below his feet and its mouth opened revealing the void before dropping Gordo in to disappear.

The Kitten 003

The Kitten

The following is an excerpt from Book 4 of LIVEONNOEVIL entitled Master Reset:

Gordo made it out of the moss stone maze. He knew his way that much, but from there the three story maze still didn’t completely make sense. He knew it had been stairs that led to the series of doors that Games had used to get them to the Multimedia section, but every time he found stairs they seemed to lead to where he’d already been. Ends’ calculations and recordings had him on a set route, none of which gave him any clue of where to go. He came out by the Everstream and turned back but his mind was scattered. Lost. It had happened before.

He sat down. Sooner or later he’d hear someone. They could help him. Days could’ve passed. He just couldn’t tell anymore. He tried to remember, to picture the route Games had taken him on, but memories weren’t what they’d been before this. He could remember words, ideas, but it became harder and harder to picture them.

The fog in his head snapped away with the noise. Like a low rumbling with sharp clinks. He stared as the sound grew in volume and clarity. It was a cat and at the moment he realized he saw the pink glow turn a corner. It radiated love off its grey fur and its claws clicked off the brick. Over her fur, a field of pink energy danced and Gordo, in welcome disbelief, said her name.

“Hollow!” The kitten ran to him and was in his arms before he could stand. “You’re here!”

“Yes,” she said, her voice sweet, caring and a feminine feline in his head. “I’m here to give you a message. Pink has sent me.” She crawled up into his shoulder and rubbed her fur against the left side of his face. She purred in his ear, her whiskers tickling him and it sent a cool calm ecstasy throughout his body. “She wants you to look.”

“Look where?” asked Gordo eager to obey.

“Everywhere,” she said and then jumped to the ground.

Gordo looked, but did not see. “Show me.”

“Your message is this: Follow the chameleons. They will lead you to Sahasa.”

Gordo looked around frantically. “Where? You have to show me!”

“Sometimes you have to know something is there before you can see it.” Hollow ran toward him and scaled his body up to his head which she leapt off of and passed through the rusty grate above. “I will miss you, love. Once you are free, so will I be and together we can live in a bond for Sahasa.” She leapt away passing through a bookshelf, her pink light leaving a trail behind her.

Follow the chameleons. He closed his eyes. Follow the chameleons Gordo, he said within. Sahasa, show me your chameleons.

The Fox 002

The Fox

The following is an excerpt from Book 4 of LIVEONNOEVIL entitled Master Reset:

More wings fluttered to a stop, perched to stare. Monkeys swung overhead, jumping back and forth, crisscrossing the gap above. The gorilla jumped down from the horse-statue’s back, eyes still locked on Gordo who turned to see the railing up the stairs lined with long-beaked tropical colored birds. He started up them any way as bobcats came in more than a dozen, following close behind the silver backed gorilla.

And with each backward step up the stairs, the number of animals grew, all with a faint pink static that moved over them in a field of energy. Hummingbirds zipped by closer and closer. The monkeys were squawking with each leap of descent. The bobcats barred their teeth from salivating mouths and the gorilla stared still using his fists to climb the stairs.

“So how many did you get to?” The stairs leveled off to an archway with a cornerstone that jutted out. Perched upon it sat an orange fox and Gordo noticed him differently than the others, a deep vibrant orange and no pink shimmer. “What was the final count for the ‘Pet Threat’?”

Gordo pulled out his sword and squawks, howls, growls, grunts and rustling feathers filled the air along with the laugh of the orange fox.

“Nothing more than a security blanket at this point. If I were you I’d toss away your silverware and hope they don’t play with their food.”

The thumps down the stairs were inaudible and suddenly the panther was blocking his way up followed by a white and black spotted leopard and a yellow and black spotted cheetah, each covered with the Pink force field.

“Now you’re really fucked,” said the fox, “unless…” and he jumped from the ledge, disappeared only to reappear around Gordo’s shoulders, his tail hanging down Gordo’s bare chest and his head turned with his snout to his ear. “I could talk to them for you, that is, as long as you come with me.”

The animals approached slowly, enjoying the game of it and Gordo grabbed the fox’s tail, swinging him to the ground, but he disappeared before he hit and was back atop the cornerstone.

“Or I can watch them eat you. That’s fine too.”

The Beetle 001

The Beetle

The following is an excerpt from Book 2 of LIVEONNOEVIL entitled FURNITURE:

In time all your questions will be answered, Blue assured him from beneath his hat. Backpack could feel the beetle’s feelers against his scalp. They emitted slight waves of response that tickled his brain sending images and words in electric flashes.

Faster, Blue urged him. Do not think of your body. The pain is outside you. You exist only in your mind.

Backpack pushed through the discomfort. The pain in his side was sharp and didn’t fade until he ran up the stairs to his bedroom. With all his might he pushed his dresser in front of his door and then removed his hat and carefully picked the beetle from his scalp, placing him softly onto his bedding.

“Okay,” said Backpack. “I’m ready.” He focused on his breathing and willed his heart to slow.

You have many questions, but you must learn to accept them unanswered until you are truly ready.

The beetle vibrated as Blue spoke and currents of blue energy sparkled over its shell.

“I will,” said Backpack.

And that is why I have chosen you. Because you are willing.

Backpack nodded solemnly.

In order to understand what you are about to see you must give me your faith, solely and completely. Do you agree?

“Yes,” said Backpack.

You will experience terrible pain, but you must trust in me. There is no pain I haven’t experienced and I only ask what I know you capable of bearing.

“I trust you.”

Then take off your backpack and lay flat to the bed.

He did and the beetle rose above him with a vibrant electric fluttering of his wings.

Now clear your mind and open your mouth. Submit to me as I possess your earthly body. Be prepared, for what you see will change the course of events to come.

Backpack gulped. He closed his eyes and felt the tickle of the beetle’s feelers as he parted his lips. It stepped onto his tongue and the taste, distinctly metallic yet sour, faded as the beetle crawled further. It squeezed passed his uvula and he couldn’t help gagging. It pulled itself deeper, the intrusion was thoroughly invasive and he went stiff, thinking of himself like stone. Strong and unaffected.

The pincers were needle stabs inside him and it pushed its way passed his larynx and down his esophagus until it disappeared into his stomach. Relief lasted only a moment before he could feel his insides swimming in a whirlpool. He gasped in agony as it accelerated and then it wasn’t just his stomach, but his entire body. He clenched his eyes and squeezed his teeth, the spinning so fast he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. Ringing in his ears rose until he was deaf. His mind pleaded to Blue, but then it was over and he was standing on his feet.

“Open your eyes,” his ears heard. He did and nearly burst into tears as he saw Blue, himself, just as he remembered him, standing before him.

He lunged forward and hugged him tight, feeling relief and security in the silence. “I’ve missed you,” said Backpack. He let go of the embrace reluctantly and Blue bent down to stare at him on eye level.

“I’ve brought you here to show you something very important about this world, but first you must understand, where we are is very dangerous.”

“Where?”

“I will answer only this question and once I do you must not ask anymore until we return. So little as a whisper could alter as much as a mountain.”

Backpack nodded, ashamed of his eager tongue and afraid to even swallow.

“We are in the past.”

Blue stood up and turned his body from him and for the first time Backpack noticed they were surrounded in nothingness. All he could see was himself and Blue. There was no dark, there was no light. Only them within an anti-mass of an empty eternity. The void.

“For example,” said Blue as he reached into empty space and grabbed it like a curtain, peeling it back. Blue held it open to the side and waved his hand to beckon him in.

Backpack walked right up to see between and recognized it immediately. It was him, asleep in his bed.

“And no, this isn’t a dream,” said Blue and disappeared behind the curtain as Backpack stepped into his own bedroom.

How Savory is Your Slavery?

To quote the great Malfeus X:

“Though the demons may ride us with horns, every horse chooses its rider.”

On a random draw from the Inopinum, I cut to The Babe of Tongue:

The Babe of Tongue

 

What does this mean? Well, the suit of Tongue represents the third god of the High Six which represents obsession with truth and the insanity of perception. As the Babe, it shows that I have entered a new beginning and have begun a search for justification to rationalize myself and my actions.

With time, more will come to jdotis.com. The suit of Tongue is the most productive of the six suits. It is proliferate in its creation and as the first of the statues of this suit, it shows a journey in to creation. Or maybe not…

The Rooms

 

The Rooms are a curse. They are a place most steeped in stagnation within the Library Labyrinth. By drawing the curse of The Rooms as the second card it shows that while I have just begun anew, I am still plagued by the stagnant foothold that is The Rooms. Once you partake of their cursed fumes, you are entranced by the ease of what life could be under their lies. This is a warning. The third and final card will tell me what must be done to avoid the evil of The Rooms:

The Rooms

 

It is a mistake to cut into The Inopinum without discarding drawn cards. Otherwise you risk what just happened. A repeat of The Rooms is no longer a warning, but prophecy. This is doom. Doomed to stagnancy. Doomed to evil. This is where I am. This is where I must escape…

The only advice I ever give is the same advice I give myself every day:

“Good luck.”