Something tragic new
The quiet night was echoing a chorus of footsteps. Shoes and bare feet step in lines.
Stomp stomp stomp, like a herd of sheep led to safety they step further forward.
Lake historia is a very large body of water. Technically a lake but to most people it is a small ocean. And tonight it will hold moutains of sadness full bodies.
As a man stood a top of a falling apart building. He looks around the city as buildings pop and crumble.
he scratched at the weird black boils along his arm.
It has been five months since the Boils have begun to grow long with those weird finger like parasites.
It started as a strange scratchy itch around the midsection and arms. But as days turned into weeks people became violent, depressed, and other feelings became overwhelming.
Some people felt the cold hands of death beckoning them towards it’s light.
Some people became the worst part of themselves.
While most of humanity tried for awhile to rebuild and thrive.
But these parasites, black as coal and shaped like thin skeletal arms. These arms with hundreds of small thin claw tipped fingers along shafts and teeth all the underside. No sign of eyes or nose.
They cling tightly to the skin. Mostly the size of a apple for the top head ish area. The long parts around a couple inches wide, and some can get a whole couple feet long length wise.
Many little long clawed finger like legs along the sides like a centipede. A long thin strip of a mouth on the underside. Usually biting down into the skin and drinking the emotions of it’s host.
Thin spirals of dark grey ish veins along their backs.
This man had many grown off him. They start off his boils growing along him like vines . He is thin and pale, having been fed off of for months.
He waited patiently, the ground creaked and popped under him and he begins to fall. He bounced off walls and floors as he falls.
He crashed to the ground with a final splat. A silence claimed the aftermath.
He was still alive, laying there broken and alone.
Remembering how this all happened.
It was almost a year ago when everything was normal.
Timothy and Windell were young adults still living at home with mom and dad.
Timothy lifted the axe up and crashed it down onto the log. It splitting down the middle with a satisfying snap. Windell flinched back. It always annoyed Tim how meek and weaked willed Windell is.
“ Don’t flinch damnit. Here be a man.” Tim demanded and tossed over the axe. Windell flinched and caught it.
He shivered quietly as he stepped up to the log sitting there. Lifting up axe he slammed through the wood. How did he actually cut through the wood? Tim wondered angrily cause no way his weak little brother had enough strength to chop up the wood.
“ That was just a weak slab of wood, here Tiny Winny. “ He muttered with, Tim doesn’t hate Windell but he knows he is weak.
Windell chops a couple logs down, he shakes slightly.
Tim rolled his eyes a bit, even now when Windell does something he is shaking like a leaf.
Windell peeked up at Tim,
“ hey i gotta go back to the house…. I um”
He begins to say as Tim rolled his eyes a bit but letting him go.
“ That boy is such a pansy,” he mumbles with a chuckle. He may see him as kinda pathetic he still loves him.
As Windell steps up the porch steps he heard mother yelling already.
“ I can’t believe the washer is out again, Damnit Joshua what the hell are you doing? Cause it certainly isn’t fixing wht I have told you over and over!” She yells at her husband, Windell curls up a bit as her yelling hurts his ears.
As he tried to step passed,” ugh sweetie please don’t get in my way when I am yelling at your dumb no brain cells father.” She mutters pushing Windell past her.
Windell goes up to his room, taking out a little box.
Within it are some old trinkets that brings him a small smile.
Some photo’s of character’s he likes and a little arts and crafts item a friend he used to have. He stopped being friends with Windell due to his brother Tim, Joshua, and Tori his parents.
No one wanted to be his friend since his family were rather rude and cruel sometimes. They didn’t even understand that themsleves. Why no one likes them. Why most people merely simply doesn’t like them.
The sound of Tori’s yelling echoes through the house all night.
Her voice going weak but she still yells.
The next morning, Tim and Windell gone down to market.
As they drove down the road towards the store, they saw a man yelling at a boy.
He was soft and pale, medium dark hair. Nose ring and light make up.
The man was calling him all sorts of obscenities and vulgar words. It was a disgusting display of disrespect to the boy.
Tim rolled his eyes at the jerk and continued to drive past. The older man had a balding head and a vest that had a fish like texture.
As Tim got out of the truck the loud sound of the loud mouth echoes through the parking lot. He won’t let the boy alone.
Finally Windell has enough and stomps over.
He meekly stood between them. The man began his tirade of Windell.
To the point tears oozed from his eyes at the loud horrid words. Finally Tim stomped over and simply yanked Windell away. “ You’ll never be loved by a woman if you are cowering like that.” He muttered, rolling his eyes at his tears. The shopping itself wasn’t much.
Since Windell wasn’t much help, he mainly stood back and was quiet. When he is upset he doesn’t talk to anyone. This annoyed Tim everytime, the way he clams up like a locked box when not happy. It felt like a betrayal to him. Why doesn’t he have the balls to talk back, why is he so pathetic.
These thoughts plauge Tim’s mind about his brother.
They get back home, mother was cooking dinner.
She saw Tim and said,” need the yard mowed. As soon as possible I’d say.
“ What me?! Where is dad?!” Tim bickered back.” He is seeing his family for awhile, said something about not respected or some crap.”
She muttered,” I expect it done by nightfall boy…”
She murmured, Tim noticed little black moles along her neck. That was weird. He was scratching at his own neck when he finds that he also has weird sensitive moles along his own shoulder.
