Archive for New Aeon

Encounter

Posted in 352 Stories of Sinister Fiction with tags , , , , , , , , on July 14, 2009 by cosmion

 

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They patronize me here, they smile at me, they call me “Mr.” They don’t treat me like an idiot. I make it a point to go to all their little groups, I don’t go against the staff, I participate in whatever they have us do. They do sense that I have a semblance of articulation and intelligence, but it matters not. I’m still on the wrong side of the Plexiglas in this psychiatric facility.

During the 10:00 am morning group, the social worker [Quite attractive , I must say] conducted an art therapy class. “Draw, create a collage, whatever you fancy, and let’s have a discussion afterward.” She said. I could only render one thing: What I “saw.” It is probably so deep-seeded in my psyche that I would never rid myself of it in all the remaining days of this life.

No one understood it. To them, it looked to be a strange Dark world with three suns. Yes, three suns and this land looked as if it had never known the bright illumination from any of those three suns. I drew the formless “things” that I “saw” that converged upon me. Their Sinister laughter drowning out my prayers to God.

How did I end up here? First in that strange place and now in the psyche ward? I’m an architect by trade, carving out an exquisite lifestyle. I designed two of the area’s sports arenas, a bank and that bank’s large business structure that reached the heavens. I had the world and especially women, at my feet.

The bigwig who wanted to discuss the plans for another proposed skyscraper downtown had canceled our dinner at the pretentious and overpriced seafood establishment ironically named plainly,  “The Crab Shack.” I did not want to go home to my wife because I was in the city and I was dressed in my favorite Brooks Brothers suit and did not want to leave here empty-handed, meaning that I wanted to find someone and “hook up.”

I walked the crowded streets and a few women smiled at me. They knew someone with power when they saw him. I decided to pick and choose and there she was. She was walking towards me and looking at me with the most alluring green eyes that I’ve ever seen. If I knew what would have happened next, I would have just went home. She smiled at me, an almost knowing smile. Her name was Jenna, a name that I would soon not forget.

 

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Jenna took me to a huge, affluent highrise apartment building somewhere midtown in the 50’s that would most likely cost $4,000 a month to rent. I paid no mind to where the cab took us because of the drinks at the yuppie bar. I remember all the men at the bar staring at us and feeling like the luckiest man alive. Jenna was about 5’6″, long, jet black hair and the most voluptuous, sensuous physique that I had not remembered ever seeing. Then she suggested that we “go back to her place” and off we went.

The apartment was luxurious, furnished with only the finest. I admit that even finer than my exquisite tastes. She lead me to her abode, which looked as if I had died and gone to heaven. I wish that I had died.

We kissed passionately and she almost tore off her clothes as I took mine off. She pushed me into the bed and I eyed her body. She grabbed my wrists and then straddled my erection. Her wetness and warmth overcame me. Her esoteric scent made me almost dizzy. She smelled like an orange grove on a sunny day. I have never felt as much ecstasy in my whole life when I was inside of her. Then it happened. I felt immense pain and I screamed. When she got off of me, there was blood everywhere. My erection was gone but then again, so was my penis. I cried out in shock and in pain, and then I blacked out.

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It was a fuckin’ cell. Somebody threw me in a fuckin’ cell. The cement floors, the small dimensions, the iron door with a tiny slit that they slipped trays of sparse amounts of food through. I screamed for hours on end and would just pass out from exhaustion and the pain in my groin. I thought about my wife and how much I loved her. I say “loved” because I didn’t think that I was ever going to see her again.

Then the dreams started. I couldn’t even differentiate if they were dreams. I pinched myself and I felt it. That land. The forms. They told me things. Things that I didn’t understand and still don’t. They were terrible. I said the Lord’s Prayer as I walked through this land and those things laughed at me. I cried and they laughed even louder. They called me “profane” and a “Magian” as epithets.  I was introduced to a world that I was in no way prepared for.

I had never been so glad to see cops when they busted through that cell . Then emergency workers threw me on a stretcher.  I heard that I had been in Jenna’s apartment for only two days.

There was talk that Jenna was still at large. I’m scared and I told the police, doctors, nurses, anyone who would listen. Everyone had that same smirk of disbelief. The “formless ones” said that the Darkness would converge. They said something strange like “Vindex” and “Baphomet.”   

The social worker talked to me after the art class. She let me cry on her shoulder. My wife had left me because I had betrayed her and because I could no longer satisfy her.

I know now that something had gone wrong. I wasn’t supposed to live and the things told me that I was just “food.” Jenna’s food. There’s something out there beyond any of our understanding. Something terrible and it’s coming. I’m here telling my story and no one believes me. According to Them, the New Aeon of Fire is here.

The Widow