Raining Down (800 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 2 on 15 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by lodikcom | mockidol (View user info) at 2006-04-21 19:14:44 EDT
The darkness surrounds me as an obsidian black space. The air around me so dark I fear it's solid, a block of shadowy ice that engulfs me.
With a deepened pop, an explosion of crimson light the room fills. Energy expands and I can feel the warmth against my skin, growing into a cloud of luminosity, saturating the room with a blinding red aura, and blinding the detail around me. With a vacuuming hiss and a violent thud of silence, the light suddenly dims and the room comes into focus around me.
Above my head, a single incandescent light bulb sways back and fourth, it's gently light waves around, showing my unclothed body, and the room, to me.
The enclosure, it's a cube that I'm guessing to be twelve feet by twelve feet, and all six sides, the walls, floor and ceiling are all mahogany of a deep red color. The wood has carvings that create a grid of one-foot squares, each an intricate carving, a picture, a scene with no explanation.
Hanging above me, the bulb illuminates the enclosure, dimly, yet enough to view the carvings. Using my hands to crawl, lean, and explore the room, I examine some of the images.
Above the light: the crucifixion of a headless woman.
On the far wall: an eagle.
A pit crawling with snakes.
An elderly man, holding his chest.
A cloud, surrounding a pack of wolves.
A wall, crumbling under the weight of God.
The sun, radiating upon the ocean.
The devil.
Hell.
Confused, slightly bothered, and scarred, I scan around the room looking for a door and see nothing. Desperately, I run my fingers in between the carvings, looking for a crack, a niche. The wood feels almost alive and I imagine I can feel it pulsing and beating under my palms. I keep looking all over the room. I hug the walls, tapping, rubbing, and pushing. The same to the floor, and I even jump, trying to reach the ceiling of pictures up above. I keep looking, yet nothing.
What seems like hours later, I'm still running my hands over the warm mahogany when I collapse with exhaustion. With the fall, my middle finger jabs into the wooden floor, splitting the nail, opening a gash in the pad of my finger. Twisting my hand, I stick it into my mouth, sucking away the blood, and then I hold out my finger, making it viewable under the light.
The fresh red blood almost glows under the light, and floating in the pool I can make out a small piece of string. I'm perplexed, is this string inside of my finger? I grab the cord and pull. It comes out a few more inches revealing a wound white thread now slightly stained red. The string is still running into my finger, but it won't pull out anymore. I yank and tug until finally, more pulls out, but not as before.
This time when I jerk on the thread, it starts ripping through the skin of my hand. Now the string has pulled up and carved a gash down to the middle of my forearm. A line of blood, burns, running from my finger to the spot the sting is still hanging from. I grab the string and pull again.
It pulls, further up my arm, back down it, across it, across it again, back up, down, up, and back around again. Already the bloody lines cover my arm, creating a crimson web of pain. Once again, I pull and pull at the string. It yanks up the flesh, stretching it like a balloon until it gives and rips. The skin resists, and rips again. This continues for hours and the web of liquid red cuts spreads slowly across my body, engulfing me in a netting of fiery pain.
Exhausted, lying on the floor, the cherry webbing has almost covered me completely. Only my stomach remains unscathed, and the string, still one long thread, piling up on the floor next to me, runs from there to the edge of the net on my side. The blood dripping from my body is pooling up in the wooden squares of the floor, and I can feel my energy fading away.
With my last bit of vigor, I give a few last tugs at my leash and it slashes in every direction, ripping the completion of the lacerated mesh into my chest. It finally snags tight at the navel and I can feel something pushing at the skin from the inside with every little tug.
I give one last forceful yank and the belly button rips open, exhausting the end of the string, tied to which is a key.
I hold the string in front of my face, and examine the key hanging from it. The light in the room makes it glitter as it sways, and a speck of luminescence glints off the word etched in the key, "EXIT." Excited, I go back to fingering the walls, this time looking for a small slit, the keeper of the key.
A burst of adrenaline gives me a new revival of energy. Looking over the carvings of gods, angels, mountains, people, and elements seems fresh and newly exhilarating. I rush and rush over the squares as drips of blood keep falling from the red net of slashes covering my body and splash onto the floor.
I keep looking.
I keep searching until finally, I collapse again. My face and hands splash into the blood pooled up in the carvings on the floor.
Lying there, I run my fingers through the blood, fingering the carvings under it.
The blood waves back and fourth over the smooth, warm, deep red mahogany, and then, right in the middle of the floor, in a pool of my blood, I feel it, a small, metallic slit.
Keeping my finger on it, I use my other hand to untie the key from my neck. I jab the metal tool into the crack, grasp it with both hands and, I turn.
A door falls open beneath me; I fall down, and start careening towards the Earth, miles beneath me.
The far away ground appears to be a browned desert: The shades of tans, blacks, and browns appear painted, and the increasingly speedy fall blurs my vision. I can feel the air rushing past my body, and try to scream. My mouth opens, but a rush of air runs in, chocking me in the back of my throat.
I cringe, and the air flips me over so that my back is facing the ground. I can't see the ground flying up at me, but I'm staring back up at the wooden room, hanging up above me in the air.
The rushing air pulls blood away from the lacerated web on my body, and I can see the crimson rain, hanging up above me, falling just behind. I stare up at the cloud of blood, growing as we fall.
I stare, and I fall.
I fall, and wonder, what will happen, when I finally come raining down.
User Reviews
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2007-06-03 14:13:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by 2004Dreaming (user info) at 2006-09-22 03:11:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
ive spent the last 10 mins searching for this post and bookmarking it.
thats some indication of what i think of your writing.
===
This was posted over a year ago, and I just came back to read it and bookmark it.
That's some indication of what I think of your writing.
Submitted by mockidol (user info) at 2007-05-26 02:50:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
crimson...........
crimson ..........
w0o0o0oT1!
Submitted by 2004Dreaming (user info) at 2006-09-22 03:11:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
ive spent the last 10 mins searching for this post and bookmarking it.
thats some indication of what i think of your writing.
Submitted by mockidol (user info) at 2006-04-22 21:44:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I used crimson three times in almost 1,200 words.
Get over it.
It's better than used red the whole time, or saying "trite" shit like,
'the color of blood'
Whatever, thanks for reading though.
And actually, criticisim is greatly accepted, thanks.
Submitted by LSD420 (user info) at 2006-04-22 16:14:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
the only reason I'm giving you a +2 is because everyone else is, haha.
My breakdown of your writing style: Nice thesaurus. I like the way you used the word "crimson" about a million different ways, each being equally as trite as the last.
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2006-04-22 15:56:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
*ahem*
Dead hooker parts, Mocky.
Dead hooker parts.
Submitted by mockidol (user info) at 2006-04-22 12:20:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Lets play a little game? What? Whatever, at least somebody read and reviewed this...
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-04-21 22:04:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by nightshade (user info) at 2006-04-21 21:33:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
You missed the "Lets play a little game"
Submitted by secret_of_nimh (user info) at 2006-04-21 21:07:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This was amazing...
"With a deepened pop, an explosion of crimson light the room fills."
Are you Yoda?
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2006-04-21 20:58:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Jesus. Christ.
This had me from line one. That's not an easy task.
This is some of the best imagery I've read, surely some of the best I've ever read on this site.
So, so, so good.
Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2006-04-21 20:23:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
to my liking
Submitted by mockidol (user info) at 2006-04-21 19:33:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
yeah, i have seen cube, but honestly i pictured this much much different. I mean, just because the guy is in a cube room doesn't mean i even thought of the movie, i mean a square room is pretty common.
Whatever, just saying this is not a jock in my opinion.
This was to me written as a nightmare.
Submitted by Doodles (user info) at 2006-04-21 19:31:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Flanders:
Homer, affordable tract housing made us neighbors, but you made us
friends.
Homer: To Ned Flanders, the richest left-handed man in town.
When Flanders Failed
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-04-21 19:29:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
you've seen the movie 'Cube', right?