The TLP Network

The Hunger: A Series of Horror, Pt. 2

by on Oct.17, 2007, under Articles, The Hunger

Envisioned by Dan.

Jason Milsner awoke to a trembling, mind numbing,sweaty world. He tasted blood in his mouth and for a moment was sure that he was still in his dream but then he realized his arm and mouth were aching. He looked down and saw that he had bitten so hard into his arm to wake himself up that he had nearly torn the skin off. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he growled to himself, the horror of his dream was so real in his head!

“Remember the words,” he heard in his mind. He scrambled to the side of his bed where on a nightstand was a notebook, one of hundreds he had used over most of the 19 years of his life to write down first poetry and then, once he started to discover his musical side, lyrics. “Through the eyes of innocence, my darkness will prevail, through sickness, strife, and moral decay they will see the demon unveil, with my thirst for blood and hunger for flesh, their fate I will decide,one by one infect them all and consume them in my stride.”

He wrote quickly, just in case the dream faded, not that it was going to anytime soon. Part of him was repulsed that he remembered them,yet another part admired the words, they were simple yet when he thought of the voice that uttered them to him they grew a life and grotesque beauty. “What the fuck is the matter with me? It was just a dream,” he thought to himself. Another, darker voice in his head begged to differ, “That’s bullshit and you know it Jason, just ask her”.

“Ask who?” he said out loud, but the other voice was gone or at least silent. Dammit! He couldn’t get that dream out of his fucking head!

He forced himself to look around his room and therefore reality,directly in front of him a plain white wall covered with band posters, a lot of them were flyers from shows that him and the band he fronted, Demise, had played in and around the Richmond area. Below them on a desk sat his seldom used TV and his often used computer. Same familiar floor lamp, same brownish carpet on the floor,same everything…except something felt off, something seemed oddly out of place in this domain he called his own but he couldn’t quite tell what it was.

Then he noticed it, one of the posters on the wall, the one that had previously depicted a demon like entity leading a naked woman by a rope and had been an advertisement for one of Demises shows was now something entirely different. The poster that now graced this part of the wall was decidedly ancient, the paper was brown and shriveled, the poster depicted a hand drawing of what looked like a blindfolded woman, she was wearing nothing more than rags and in both hands she held two severed heads by their hair. Underneath this drawing in blocky capitol letters were the words MEETING TONIGHT CROSSTOWN SALOON, WE WILL HAVE OUR REVENGE!

Despite the decay of the paper and the lack of color the drawing of the woman looked almost life-like and combined with the words stenciled below it the poster struck Jason as very ominous and suggestive of a very horrible deed but there was something else that struck him discordant when he looked at it, but that something else apparently couldn’t be seen with the naked eye because he had no clue as to it’s origins.

“Look closer Jason” a voice said in his head and made him jump, rightly so, it was the voice from his dream.”Who are you? Get out of my fucking head!” Said Jason as he looked around the room not really expecting to see anyone.

“LOOK CLOSER YOU SNIVELING LITTLE SHIT!” and with that Jason felt something grab his head and slam his face to the wall.”Open your eye’s” said the voice.

“No!” Jason yelled back. An invisible fist punched him in the balls while an invisible hand held his face to the wall. “OPEN YOUR FUCKING EYES OR I WILL TEAR OFF YOUR EYELIDS!”

Jason finally did as he was told, all he could see was a blurred, extreme close up of the womans drawn head. The hand pulled back slowly until his eyes were in better focus. Now he could see the womans head more clearly. Printed on the womans forehead, in words so small that they would normally go unnoticed were the letters D-E-M-I-S-E.

-to be Continued

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