It was raining and heavier than usual. Jericho was in bed. Motionless, expressionless and almost lifeless. He stared into the abyss. The dark, deep and frigheteningly unknown.
The rain outside slowly builded up yet what Jericho didn't noticed nor even care to notice anything around him. He just kept looking at the abyss above him, it was as if he was completely absorbed into it.
The rain built up more and more until it started to flood nearby houses, the windows were begining crack and eventually caved in and broke, the water slowly began to flood the room, dirt, grime, toys, clothes all began to float as the water rose.
When the water reached Jericho, the wounds on his leg would open up, faecal matter began to leak from inside the wound, rotting bits of green and discolored meat with spider legs would open up the wound and crawl out, maggots with deformed and anguished human faces began to wriggle away before getting dragged away by the flowing water.
The wounds on his arms would exude vomit as well as little humanoid beings who that had anatomically impossible facial features that also had tongues that would slowly grow out of each pore and crawled out of his gashes, some would get dragged along the with the vomit and drifted to the water, some of the humanoids drowned and if they did, wasps, mosquitoes, ants and flies would explode out of their heads and surfaced the to the flooding water.
The rest of the humanoids swam and tried to search for land but to no avail as the water had risen to the point that there was nowhere to land on. Jericho's ears would sprout fingers that grew into hands and the fingers on the same hand grew into smaller hands and it went on almost infinitely. His skin slowly collapses upon itself and loses moisture. His body was being lifted by the flooding water, carrying his body to the abyss and as it consumed him.
He laughed, loudly, forcefully, and to the point it hurt his throat and when his laughing fit was over, he realised he was standing in a void, without light and what was visible was a door that had an unnaturally natural light. He stared at it for a while, and asked.
"Why?"
No answer was given.
He started to raise his voice.
"Why?"
No answer was given.
He started to shout.
"Why am I here?"
He started to scream.
"Who am I supposed to be?"
He starts to pound at the door and smash his fists against the wooden door.
"Who was I supposed to be?"
He howled, broke, cried, squalled, whimpered. He asked one last question.
"Who am I?"
No answer was given. He punched the door with a swift strike and his entire body deconstructed into vital organs.
YOU ARE READING
The Last Straw.
Horror"It is said that life and death never had a meaning nor did it have a purpose as in the end, the everlasting eternity will consume all but the life we have lived completely and fully are far more significant and meaningful than a brain-dead, cold an...
