Duration: 4:10

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( Downloadable MP3: http://tindeck.com/listen/zuzb )

A dramatic reading of a halloween story I wrote. I'm not too happy with the audio quality and shall try to fix that as soon as I figure out how to do so.

A mite bit unpleasant but not really.

TEXT

With my right hand I scribble this illegible epitaph on a long line of toilet paper. As I do so, madness, and whatever remains of my reason, are fighting my quite senseless sense of self preservation for control of my left hand, which currently holds a knife to my throat.

I think that the creature is still having fun with the others. I've heard no more screams in what might have been an hour now, but I know they're still alive. It certainly wasn't lying when it told us that it never offers the mercies of death or insanity to its prey, why would it?

Bids the soul to doff the flesh

Endless torment ere afresh.

Hope and cheer forever threshed,

When in the shadowed hands enmeshed.

I saw the proof in Stuart; face down on the floor, minus his face, and all else for that matter; skinned alive... still alive, bleeding, oozing, reeking, writhing, squealing and shuffling along the carpet towards where I stood, somehow knowing I was there despite being robbed of his eyes and ears as well. He must have been imploring me for help.

I don't know how I knew it was him.

Predictably I responded by shrieking at a pitch I though impossible for my throat to produce, soiling myself and sprinting to this library's secluded, disabled toilet, sealing myself inside.

It is hilarious, doubly so when I consider that I'm trusting a thin chipboard door and a flimsy metal lock to keep at bay a beast that earlier reached through a wall, wrapped one massive hand around the chest of a young redheaded woman and dragged her screaming through said wall, as if it wasn't even there.

I can't help but laugh. Madness seems to be taking me after all.

(potentially) GLORIOUS

This suggests to me that the creature which has seized this University's library, and Lord knows how much else, has not yet claimed me. If it does, I shall wind up just like Stuart, mutilated and tortured for the rest of eternity and all the while perfectly sane, perfectly able to appreciate the horror which my fate would entail and the fact that it would... will... never end. A less than pleasant prospect to be sure.

But what if I kill myself first? Do I escape?

My left hand quivers as I write, and every second I can hear my brain imploring me not to be so rash; I might be rescued after all, the beast might depart, satisfied with the souls it's already harvested. Perhaps I'm having a psychotic episode or else perhaps this is all just a bad dream.

Put the knife down Jeremy. Don't be stupid, don't do anything rash.

Are these my thoughts, or is the beast whispering inside my head? Trying to keep me alive long enough to claim me. Of course why should it bother doing that? Why not just reach through the wall and take me too.

This is it, I'm going to do it. If you're reading this, you might do well to follow my example.

This is it.

Push down Jeremy, Dig into the skin and carve a deep swath across your neck and let yourself die, before it's too late.

Before the creature takes you too and it's too late.

DIE YOU STUPID BASTARD!

SAVE YOURSELF!

Please?

I appear to be unable to kill myself... I'll just have to keep trying I suppose.

Not a good day, frankly.