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Headache heat and i'm picking up this ringing in my ear. It's been getting louder the last few days and now I can hear the word under the wash of static seeping through the apartment door, a faint whisper trapped in crashed frequencies: Help.
It's coming off the stain on the wall across the hallway. Oil black splash of silhouette. You can't look at it for to long or your eyes start to get blurry and the headache spikes from painful to crippling after a few moments of prolonged eye contact. It's gotten so bad even the piss bums and junkies don't come here to crash no more. It's the stink that gets you the most: Burnt sperm and strange chemicals lingering in the air like the memory of a nerve gas attack.
Even the graffiti is starting to melt in here and the palmetto bugs are beginning to sing through the cracks in the ceiling.
I went to ask the landlord what's up. I was met by a frail Mid Eastern woman, who peered at me nervously through the opening on a chained door. It takes me three trys to get through the thick accent and the panic attack rattling in her throat. Long story short is the landlord went missing some three weeks ago and hasn't been heard from since. This explains why my rent check hasn't bounced yet. A few more questions and I pick up that she's the wive or the daughter of the landlord, that and little else before she slams the door on me when I mention the 'Stain'.
Sometimes it feels like weird shit follows me like a fart in a submarine.
I got a buddy online all the way from Tokyo on the IM. She tells me it sounds like one of their 'ghost viruses' that's been going around Japan there lately. This, so 'they' say, is the result of a rash of mass teenage suicides that have plagued the region in recent years. The problem is that the living can contract a 'ghost virus' when exposed to the restless dead for prolonged periods of time. Symptoms may include memory loss, drop in body temperature, paleness of the skin and eventually your body slowly goes incorporeal, the result of a flesh eating ectoplasm that replaces your body with a ectoplasmatic recording of itself.
I tell her it sounds like the warning on the back of my allergy meds. After that she clicks on her webcam so we can get down with some adults only virtual naughtiness. Real time feed of her crawling in my brain as our hands drift down below the keyboards and we both pretend each other is someone else. At her request I put on the Gitmo hood for her.
Two days later and the Stain's getting bigger. The static is getting louder and my fucking headache is getting worse. I'm shit out of options. I need an expert in wierd. So I call up this cat I know from my Thelema days whose been holding up in Chi the last few years.
( Read more... )
It's coming off the stain on the wall across the hallway. Oil black splash of silhouette. You can't look at it for to long or your eyes start to get blurry and the headache spikes from painful to crippling after a few moments of prolonged eye contact. It's gotten so bad even the piss bums and junkies don't come here to crash no more. It's the stink that gets you the most: Burnt sperm and strange chemicals lingering in the air like the memory of a nerve gas attack.
Even the graffiti is starting to melt in here and the palmetto bugs are beginning to sing through the cracks in the ceiling.
I went to ask the landlord what's up. I was met by a frail Mid Eastern woman, who peered at me nervously through the opening on a chained door. It takes me three trys to get through the thick accent and the panic attack rattling in her throat. Long story short is the landlord went missing some three weeks ago and hasn't been heard from since. This explains why my rent check hasn't bounced yet. A few more questions and I pick up that she's the wive or the daughter of the landlord, that and little else before she slams the door on me when I mention the 'Stain'.
Sometimes it feels like weird shit follows me like a fart in a submarine.
I got a buddy online all the way from Tokyo on the IM. She tells me it sounds like one of their 'ghost viruses' that's been going around Japan there lately. This, so 'they' say, is the result of a rash of mass teenage suicides that have plagued the region in recent years. The problem is that the living can contract a 'ghost virus' when exposed to the restless dead for prolonged periods of time. Symptoms may include memory loss, drop in body temperature, paleness of the skin and eventually your body slowly goes incorporeal, the result of a flesh eating ectoplasm that replaces your body with a ectoplasmatic recording of itself.
I tell her it sounds like the warning on the back of my allergy meds. After that she clicks on her webcam so we can get down with some adults only virtual naughtiness. Real time feed of her crawling in my brain as our hands drift down below the keyboards and we both pretend each other is someone else. At her request I put on the Gitmo hood for her.
Two days later and the Stain's getting bigger. The static is getting louder and my fucking headache is getting worse. I'm shit out of options. I need an expert in wierd. So I call up this cat I know from my Thelema days whose been holding up in Chi the last few years.
( Read more... )