(SMSHC) I woke

I woke. The dreams still cluttered my mind, dark and murky. Contorted faces and screams and the pungent smell of blood receded as the light of dawn crawled into the room. I sat up and swung my legs to the floor, ran my hands through my hair. I hated those dreams, or what I could remember of them. I was hungry. I shuffled to the bathroom splashed cold water on my face and caught a reflection in the mirror. A dark figure with dead eyes and then it was gone. I stared into the mirror, my face was worn and thin and my eyes looked dull. Still hungry, I told myself, so I headed for the small fridge I had. As I looked into the empty space that at one time contained food, my limbs grew heavy and my vision faded in and out. I saw disgusting things in that empty space. Pies made from blood and bile and crusted skin, chunks of slime green meat. A soup with congealed fat and some unidentified fish heads floating at the top of the gray liquid. Something burnt crisp on a stick, a fetus, a rat, something with a head. I slammed the door closed. I knew it was empty. I stumbled over to the rickety kitchen chair and sat down, still dizzy and half blind. I closed my eyes and tried to clear my head of the visions that now started to assault my mind. Dried corpses stacked upon one another, a large butcher-block table with red stains and pieces of fresh cut flesh, rusty chains and hooks made to hang things from, knives, saws, clamps, pincers and surgical instruments all thrown together in a shallow metal pan. A large freezer filled with plastic wrapped things, pink and red and seeping and smelling of death. My mind snapped. and I lost consciousness.

I woke. The dreams still cluttered my mind, bright and clear. Smiling faces and laughter and the sweet smell of apple pie receded as the bright light of an overhead lamp burned its way through my eyelids. I opened my eyes, and saw nothing. Suddenly the lamp was moved as to not shine directly into my eyes. I felt another in the room and felt hard splintery wood at my back. I suddenly heard a voice in my head. “I almost lost you that time.” It said. I tried to move, to look around, but my head felt like it was strapped down, my arms were strapped down, I could feel the leather biting into my wrists. My eyes were clearing of the light blindness and above me I could just make out a figure, or a reflection. Pain started to seep into my body from something, I felt wet and sticky. The vision cleared and slowly I could make out the thing above me. It was a figure on a table strapped to it like a sick doll. Cuts and wounds covered its body, burns and tears and chunks of torn flesh, nails and hooks and clamps held open new orifices. Thing were missing, an eye, an ear, fingers and toes, sections of muscle were torn half out and nailed to the wooden table and twitched. The pain of seeing my poor visage was only trumped by the actual pain and realization of the horror of it all. I screamed, or tried, mouth agape tongue gone. I blacked out.

I woke.

I'm not sure which lovely romance this story has elicited in my memory.

Could it be the Texas Chainsaw Massacre or Motel Hell?

Lotsa gore, savage cupid, lotsa gore.

Snippets and clumps.



I keep seeing a sign in my minds eye...

Farmer Vincents Smoked Meats.

Actually I just saw the movie Rest Stop. The helplessness of it freaks me out.