after reality by Shinigami Goam (ink book reader txt) 📖

this is on its own. Each powerful shot from my hips to my knees to my ankles and out the balls of my feet tears and burns at this point. My attention gravitates toward the dry dead patches of grass.

Holes cover the ground on this little lump of dirt and grass, and a soft looking head peeks out of one to my left. I whip my hand over its head and squeeze. I feel the steady flow upward into my palm, and close my hand tightly letting the limp creature squeeze through my boney fingertips. I raise my hand to my eye carving, and watch the green brown wisp flow into the pupil. My body feels somewhat better, a definite difference, but not enough. I hear in the walls of my body's head a pitter patter. The creature darts around as my spirit grasps it and consumes it. The tapping in my spirits head meets the same fate, no doubt continuing on a level I cannot perceive.

After much digging and repeating this process. I grow calm with the echoes of scurrying and crushing, and begin to drift off, and begin to sleep. I awaken in the darkness with the moons cycle. I lazily use my mask to move dirt, so as to continue sleeping in a more comfortable position. I ball up, covering my knees with the bottom of my mask and begin to drift. I awake to the caw of a crow overhead, a vessel for a spirit to find a-

I awake in Golgotha, in the shell of my own body. No minds bickering, no sword, no incense and no mask. In my stillness, I see him waiting atop the wall of fresher bodies, and from behind him, many like him bound up. I see visually the carvings on his iron rusted mask. His eye contains three circles around the pupil, and an oblong eye shape around those. his three points at the top of his mask have the center one higher, and the outside ones slightly curved to the left and right. All behind him are the same, his minds are his bodies, and his mind does not speak. A cold gaze from that eye speaks more than I've ever heard from any mind, and he is here to crush mine and those around me. I manipulate his hoarse rattles of breath into what I hear.

"Know that you are done, and living beyond your means"

"Know that your means are meaningless" as he leaps high into the air from the wall, he growls

"Then it doesn't matter." as he lands on my dry corpse. My spirit explodes upward as the sand in the desert did. The only words I think now, are of the things I expect to see, and the things I want to see, but all I can think is, "I just don't know."

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Publication Date: 01-22-2014

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