Post by Angel Blake on May 27, 2017 1:53:59 GMT
Slowly he walked alone through the hallowed halls of what used to be his home. Tattered pictures frames hung from peeling walls, rodents and insects climbed in and out of various holes exposing the ribs of the buildings skeleton. He ignored all of this or rather he saw it very differently…
The walls were painted a bleach white in his mind, he had always enjoyed the purity of white, the pictures were whole, complete, smiling faces looked out from happy memories. There was the intoxicating aroma of scented candles scintillating his sense of smell, furniture that appeared to be right out of a commercial was everywhere.
He was home.
He walked toward his favorite chair, what he saw was a robust black leather recliner which was in fact a broken down wreck of its former self. He sat with a sigh of relief, not noticing the cockroaches that fled from his sudden weight. The room lit up around him as the sun beamed through flowing curtains, warming his skin, at least that’s what he saw…
Sounds began to fill his ears, laughter and talking, two female voices speaking in an almost musical tone that brought a sad smile to his pale crooked face. His head nodded along to the voices as if he were agreeing with the phantom conversation, one he alone was privy to.
He winced at the new voice that spoke to him. She was not welcome here, he had told her this countless times before but she never listened. She always returned to mock him with what she called the truth, a truth he refused to believe was reality. This was home. This was life.
He shuddered now, he hated the way she said his name, so full of mocking compassion yet there was a hint of utter lust buried beneath it. She loved him as much as she loved torturing him.
She threw something violently at him but he managed to catch it without ever giving her the time of day. It was a candle, the glass had within it several pictures of his happy family. His wife, their daughter, himself, all smiling, all thankful to be together, this brought a sensation of calm to his broken soul.
A cold hard hand touched the pale flesh of his cheek, she felt like a granite statue come to life.
Gently she caressed his face as the vision of a serene home began to melt away but still the other voices persisted, particularly that of the young girl.
A terrible smile crept across the face of the pale man in the tattered chair.
The ghastly woman throws her black hair back as she begins to reach for her nether regions.
The giggling girl now begins to dance in the background around her lord.
Like a drunken maniac the woman’s dance continues around the man dressed in black.
The black haired woman now drops to her knees before him, her head thrown back as she basks in his glory.
The woman falls backwards onto the floor and writhes in a seeming sexual ecstasy as the man known as God simply glares coldly forward, ready for the final war…
The walls were painted a bleach white in his mind, he had always enjoyed the purity of white, the pictures were whole, complete, smiling faces looked out from happy memories. There was the intoxicating aroma of scented candles scintillating his sense of smell, furniture that appeared to be right out of a commercial was everywhere.
He was home.
He walked toward his favorite chair, what he saw was a robust black leather recliner which was in fact a broken down wreck of its former self. He sat with a sigh of relief, not noticing the cockroaches that fled from his sudden weight. The room lit up around him as the sun beamed through flowing curtains, warming his skin, at least that’s what he saw…
Sounds began to fill his ears, laughter and talking, two female voices speaking in an almost musical tone that brought a sad smile to his pale crooked face. His head nodded along to the voices as if he were agreeing with the phantom conversation, one he alone was privy to.
”How long are you going to hide here?”
He winced at the new voice that spoke to him. She was not welcome here, he had told her this countless times before but she never listened. She always returned to mock him with what she called the truth, a truth he refused to believe was reality. This was home. This was life.
”Still lying to yourself, Angel?”
He shuddered now, he hated the way she said his name, so full of mocking compassion yet there was a hint of utter lust buried beneath it. She loved him as much as she loved torturing him.
”They’re gone you idiot! This house is empty save for us!”
She threw something violently at him but he managed to catch it without ever giving her the time of day. It was a candle, the glass had within it several pictures of his happy family. His wife, their daughter, himself, all smiling, all thankful to be together, this brought a sensation of calm to his broken soul.
”You insist on hiding from the truth Angel! You keep this charade alive only in your head! They are never coming back! There is only you and I now!”
A cold hard hand touched the pale flesh of his cheek, she felt like a granite statue come to life.
”There is only us… Angel… I’ll never leave you like they did.”
Gently she caressed his face as the vision of a serene home began to melt away but still the other voices persisted, particularly that of the young girl.
”My God, my Savior, the one who brought light to my darkness. I will always be here to lead you back home no matter how lost you become.”
”Home?”
”Imperial Wrestling…”
A terrible smile crept across the face of the pale man in the tattered chair.
”And we begin by destroying the last true remnant of your mortal life.”
”Kyle…”
The spectral visage of the woman with black hair began to rock back and forth giggling with sadistic laughter.
”FALCON!!!!”
She screamed with delight and clapped her hands as he rose from the tattered chair, the discard candle shattered on the floor by his feet.
”The fiendishly flamboyant flying fiend must fall…”
”Yessss, preach!”
”His flicker will fade in a fog of fallacy! Faced with fate he will fall to flames! Famously falling through the fabric of forever, fumbling foolishly for a foothold but all he will find are flaccid fantasies of fighting fancifully flocked by fervent followers of faith!”
”My lord, you have such a way with words.”
”His flaws are not fiction despite flimsy conviction! He will be fossilized and forgotten a faulty fan favorite! Forced to fry in the frying pan slowly fading like a firefly faced with the fundamental fact he cannot fly away!”
”God, you’re so hot right now."
The ghastly woman throws her black hair back as she begins to reach for her nether regions.
”His fawning is fraught! Flagged by freakish failures! He’s been fleeced and frayed by a fistful of fouls with frightening force! The winged ones foundry fails and fidgets as it is flogged and flamed by feverish feuding fellows! His frivolous fight is followed by flight! A frivolous disposition!”
The giggling girl now begins to dance in the background around her lord.
”Yet that fuels your faith.”
Like a drunken maniac the woman’s dance continues around the man dressed in black.
”Fusing fandom with a ferverous fungous you fancy yourself a formidable foe! Factually you are a flower that only flourishes flippantly! Founded in a fatal foregone fable! The facade of the founded foreman filled with foibles will be but a factoid of foreboding! My fury only ferments a format that has found favor! Fanfare! While your fanatic fringe feelings are reminiscent of feudalism! Feeble and failed, a flea who feigns humanity. A fractured Fresco who forayed against his fictitious fascist! Fatigued by frailty you will be flooded by fiasco!”
”MAKE HIM BLEED MY LORD! MAKE HIM SCREAM!!! I WANT TO SHOWER IN HIS PAIN!!!”
”Your only future is a funeral, there will be no furious Faustian deal. You will be floored then fitted, a soldier of fortune with a fighters farewell! Your folly was fanaticism filtered by flare when it should have been fatalism! You have fizzled and festered, floundered and flailed! Now you are fumbling fertilizer! A feeder to the faithful! You will flitter and fall to the FEARLESS!”
The black haired woman now drops to her knees before him, her head thrown back as she basks in his glory.
”It is fitting that I will be the finale of… FALCON!!!”
The woman falls backwards onto the floor and writhes in a seeming sexual ecstasy as the man known as God simply glares coldly forward, ready for the final war…