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kirafaclaws22's avatar
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Literature Text

Bone and muscle stare back at me through empty sockets. What little skin that's still on it is rotting away. But wait...I'm looking into my bathroom mirror. That monster isn't me...it can't be me...

I steal a quick glance down at my hands. No, I'm not rotting away like the monster in the mirror. I look back up, thinking maybe I'm just sleep-deprived and hallucinating. No, the monster is still there.

The lights flicker, drawing my attention upwards. A black, tar-like substance is oozing from the crack in the ceiling above and behind me. It materializes into a hand, which reaches for me, clutching with cold fingers onto the back of my skull. It forces me closer, closer towards the mirror with the monster, whose decaying fingers grasp for my neck and close around my throat.  As it draws me closer, I realize that I'm dead, killed by the monster of my own lies.
For :iconcrypticgrin:'s contest. It was supposed to be a short story but...three paragraphs...that's really short!
I guess I can admit now that this is my first attempt at writing horror and I'm not really sure that I like how it turned out...
© 2014 - 2024 kirafaclaws22
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LostinSorrows's avatar
And the walls are oozing green slime?!

eue