Alone in the Dark

A series I started on my blog, but the posts have become a little erratic to follow and find, so I wanted to put them together. Let me know what you think! Title is a work in progress :D


5. The God of the New World

The bundle wouldn’t stop wailing.


Its flesh is red and purple, pumping and pulsing like a live vein – but bruised and painful to look at. The smell it emitted from its face made you want to cry and vomit; vomit and cry. Its broken eyes lolled back and forth without control, no interest in focusing on you.

You’re crying.

Loudly, unaware of your pain, you’re bawling right back at the creature in your arms. You cannot understand what you are seeing… It hurts to even think. The woman in rags snatches the disfigured bundle of screams from you. Tears rolls down your cheeks, unchallenged, as you watch her. You’re on your knees. The sight has brought you to your knees – squelching in the muck and gore of this horrible atrocity of a room. The haggard woman snarls at you. You stare into her eyes – her fearsome, damaged eyes – the blue of her irises mottled by misshapen black pupils. You’re breathing like a winded dog, unable to move, unable to run – exhausted.


The woman looked down at the bundle wailing at her. There was something resembling a mixture of pity and disgust on her face. She raises a hand. Your jaw drops. At the end of each of her fingertips were nails an inch long each, razor-sharp, caked with dried blood and congealed gore. Within the blink of your eyes, she stabs down into her child with her nails – the baby’s cry dying in mid-air. The blood splatters onto your face, but you can’t turn away from the nightmarish sight. Your mind is filled with unwanted fascination. The limp sack is tossed aside; meanwhile the woman never takes her eyes off of you.

“My child would not survive,” she mutters, “None of them do.”

A stifled mumble of pure fear escapes you. You don’t want to be here any longer. But your body is frozen, rooted to this horrific place. You watch as the woman tears the rags from her body revealing her shrivelled breasts, her protruding ribs and her swollen, scarred belly. You cover your mouth, protecting yourself from the dreadful smell that comes off of her. She stands in front of you, lovingly caressing her bump.


“But this one…” she says, “This one is destined.”

She reaches for your hand and before you can jerk away from her, she yanks you closer. You feel the pulsating vessel beneath your hand. A force beats against your palm.

“Strong!” the woman cries, “Strong! Destined for glory!”

You try to pull away desperately, but the woman tightens her iron grasp – her nails digging into your flesh.

“Don’t you want to witness this?” the woman asks you, “The birth of the God of the New World?”

Her nails pierce your arm, drawing your blood. You scream, grabbing a dismembered limb from the floor and using it to slap her across her face. She falls to the ground beside you and you gather your strength – turning and running out the way that you had come…



The dreams continue here.

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