Post by Sodium Lord. on May 31, 2008 3:56:52 GMT -5
Merritte stood in front of the entrance , staring transfixed at his past. He push open the door and stepped inside, it was empty, a faint smell of rotting body hit his nose. He remembers those bodies, he had mocked their deaths, laugh at them, kicked them. He began to walk through the asylum, exploring it's emptiness. He came here a few times. Every time he did he was alone...unlike before.
"Calm down, Merritte," The man in white said in front of him, Merritte struggled against the other men’s grip,
"ARRÊTEZ, JE VOUS TUERA!"He yelled at the top of his voice, he tugged out of the men’s grip and ran for his life, dodging people, pushing people over, he had to get out of here, he could NOT stay here...
He walked through the lonely corridors, the wind seem to be whispering dark secrets to him, the shadows waited for him to approach. This was his Achilles heel, every memory this place stirred was like a stab with a blade. A blade he could not fight off, wounds he could not heal.
Merritte lied in the cold floor of his room, his bed hurt him. He felt hungry, he had tried to eat but he threw up straight afterwards, the smell of his vomit waited in the corner, he had missed the toilet. He let out a moan, he missed being free, he was glad he killed his parents...the deserved to die. But now he was back where he started, with rules. "Rip it...." He heard... he sat up in his straight jacket, they had not given him a mask thank god. He twisted around, "Tear it apart..."
Those words, he remembered them now as he stood in his old room, he walked over to the corner, yeah there was that old puke stain. Merritte made his way to the centre of the room and sat down crossed legged. He closed his eyes and all the memories rushed to him like a wave, especially the one he hated most....
Merritte pulled at the jacket, biting and tearing, he understood now, he learnt what the voice was telling him to do. He pulled and tugged, but the jacket wasn't breaking, he yelled out in frustration..." under the sink... He looked over to the sink, it was broken of course the plumping against the wall was broken...and sharp. He made his way over to it, no doubt he found a very sharp edge. He manoeuvred himself against it. After moments...CHHHHH the cloth rip apart ad is arms flung to either side of him, however one of them connected with the sharp plumbing. He screamed as blood pour from it, he rolled against the floor in agony, he had hit an artery.
Then a dark figure loomed above him, he kneeled down, Merritte stared at it. It was not human...it was just...a shadow. A shadow of a human, But as leaned it's head against the wound, it opened what was it's mouth. And he saw teeth, sharp jagged teeth. It bit down into his wound and drank from him.
The shadow was his demon, his punisher, it had returned many times to wound, hurt and bite him. However the people at the asylum thought he was hurting himself. The recorded him, but they said they saw no Demon, they didn't tell him what they saw, after they had put a nuzzle over his face and locked him in a padded room. Merritte held the video tape. He had it, in his hands....what had happened. He walked over to the TV, he was now in one of the main offices. He turned on the TV, surprisingly it still worked. He pushed in the video into the VCR, and waited....
A movie of himself began to play. He watched silently as he lied on the floor asleep. Then he sat up, and twisted around as though frightened of something, then he opened he mouth and began chewing at his arm. He stood up and started hurting himself...just like they said. Merritte watched himself ran into walls, bash his skull against the sink. Merritte’s breathing quickly as he watched this. He saw himself screaming for help, then hurting himself more.
"GO AVAY! LEV ME ALON!" The TV Merritte screamed, his French accent quite thick. Then as Merritte started screaming and rolling around. The real Merritte pulled back his fist and SMAAASH.
His fist smashed the screen to pieces. He shoved the television off it's desk and stood, he cracked tables, turned chairs. He felt the demon of his past, when he left he hadn't saw it again, only once in a dream. In that dream it had climbed out of his stomach and saved him from falling off a cliff. Now he felt like the demon was cheering him on, inside him. He felt pleasure from trashing this room, he broke lamps, smashed desk. When he was down it was a state, everything was broken...
Merritte heard something outside the room, he quickly went to the door and opened it, he moved into the corridor and saw a dark figure...only this one was human.
"Calm down, Merritte," The man in white said in front of him, Merritte struggled against the other men’s grip,
"ARRÊTEZ, JE VOUS TUERA!"He yelled at the top of his voice, he tugged out of the men’s grip and ran for his life, dodging people, pushing people over, he had to get out of here, he could NOT stay here...
He walked through the lonely corridors, the wind seem to be whispering dark secrets to him, the shadows waited for him to approach. This was his Achilles heel, every memory this place stirred was like a stab with a blade. A blade he could not fight off, wounds he could not heal.
Merritte lied in the cold floor of his room, his bed hurt him. He felt hungry, he had tried to eat but he threw up straight afterwards, the smell of his vomit waited in the corner, he had missed the toilet. He let out a moan, he missed being free, he was glad he killed his parents...the deserved to die. But now he was back where he started, with rules. "Rip it...." He heard... he sat up in his straight jacket, they had not given him a mask thank god. He twisted around, "Tear it apart..."
Those words, he remembered them now as he stood in his old room, he walked over to the corner, yeah there was that old puke stain. Merritte made his way to the centre of the room and sat down crossed legged. He closed his eyes and all the memories rushed to him like a wave, especially the one he hated most....
Merritte pulled at the jacket, biting and tearing, he understood now, he learnt what the voice was telling him to do. He pulled and tugged, but the jacket wasn't breaking, he yelled out in frustration..." under the sink... He looked over to the sink, it was broken of course the plumping against the wall was broken...and sharp. He made his way over to it, no doubt he found a very sharp edge. He manoeuvred himself against it. After moments...CHHHHH the cloth rip apart ad is arms flung to either side of him, however one of them connected with the sharp plumbing. He screamed as blood pour from it, he rolled against the floor in agony, he had hit an artery.
Then a dark figure loomed above him, he kneeled down, Merritte stared at it. It was not human...it was just...a shadow. A shadow of a human, But as leaned it's head against the wound, it opened what was it's mouth. And he saw teeth, sharp jagged teeth. It bit down into his wound and drank from him.
The shadow was his demon, his punisher, it had returned many times to wound, hurt and bite him. However the people at the asylum thought he was hurting himself. The recorded him, but they said they saw no Demon, they didn't tell him what they saw, after they had put a nuzzle over his face and locked him in a padded room. Merritte held the video tape. He had it, in his hands....what had happened. He walked over to the TV, he was now in one of the main offices. He turned on the TV, surprisingly it still worked. He pushed in the video into the VCR, and waited....
A movie of himself began to play. He watched silently as he lied on the floor asleep. Then he sat up, and twisted around as though frightened of something, then he opened he mouth and began chewing at his arm. He stood up and started hurting himself...just like they said. Merritte watched himself ran into walls, bash his skull against the sink. Merritte’s breathing quickly as he watched this. He saw himself screaming for help, then hurting himself more.
"GO AVAY! LEV ME ALON!" The TV Merritte screamed, his French accent quite thick. Then as Merritte started screaming and rolling around. The real Merritte pulled back his fist and SMAAASH.
His fist smashed the screen to pieces. He shoved the television off it's desk and stood, he cracked tables, turned chairs. He felt the demon of his past, when he left he hadn't saw it again, only once in a dream. In that dream it had climbed out of his stomach and saved him from falling off a cliff. Now he felt like the demon was cheering him on, inside him. He felt pleasure from trashing this room, he broke lamps, smashed desk. When he was down it was a state, everything was broken...
Merritte heard something outside the room, he quickly went to the door and opened it, he moved into the corridor and saw a dark figure...only this one was human.
