A Nightmare Reborn
Chapter 2 Part 3
This is truly astonishing. The tunnel throughout the bowels of this hill was, at first, what I thought to be a terrestrial-induced innovation, but I knew that this was only a partial truth. Nature had dugage, perhaps what would bring me closer to Althia's stronghold. The entire hollow of the hill was pitch-black, indicating my definite need for my lantern. The ground, however, was highly disturbed. Both footprint and hoofprint beat a very deep path into the tunnel. Caution was of dire need, as there may be many perils that could lurk in what would be normally a quiet resting place.
I believed, originally, I was without incident. How wrong I was, as I fell to one knee, a disgusting siren singing sharply into my ear. The memories poured into me, recalling the not so-distant past, before Alice came into my office. Why this, oh, why this?
I slept each night in my office, rarily ever feeling the need to return to my flat. What nourishment I did not receive, I gained through the artificial carrier that is cigarettes and booze. Sometimes I'd have a bagel and coffee in the morning, and, that Friday, it was no different. As I returned to my desk, I sat down, and remembered my schooling at the university. There, I was not popular, and other students shunned me, be them man or woman. The hazings were both deliberate and without reward. As I sat there at my desk, I realized that these memories served me no good. How foolish this lime vision is, a flashback of a flashback. As I ate in my epitome, I swore that this is the bottom. What I never had in sociality was my crutch. Sobriety mattered not in the wake of the death of my mother. My mother is the only one who could stop me in my fall. Alas, she is gone, forbidden to give me her soft hugs and wooing words. As I thought thoroughly, returning to my pleating world, I realized that my tears that Friday morning were a prelude to a comforting embrace of possibilities, impossible or not. What mocking I've received will become banished as I find Althia's strangling-yet-fitting embrace. Her desires are what's best for me. She has seen what I can be, where others saw only what I cannot be. The waking world is a destructive paradise, where deaths of the common fit only into an oppressing chain that begins at birth for mostly all. I'd imagine only Althia, the fair matron, can save us from our God-given inequity. It makes you wonder, really. From what I have gathered, this female ancient creature that is Althia is what one that I would consider a deity. Her appearance may not befit her inner delicacy, but her loud beating heart and her silent mind are what we call her defining features. She breathes emotion, wisdom, enlightenment, and physical fortification. Her eyes alone and can bend and ply a man's will. What gives into her eyes will undoubtedly give into her mind, and thus her heart. Once you are in the old god's heart, you will perish to this world. One should not wish to remain in this life, for it offers nihl for the unselected. For those who are selected, this life will yield thorned fruit that is as nasty in its taste as in its benefits. You'll be motioned to believe that money and lovers are an avenue of joy, but the reality is the jaded opposite. What kills doeth kills. Those who enter madness of my wide scale will see things for what they really are worth. Nothing is without a subliminal side.
This tunnel had one more offering for me, a dropped sack by what may be a still moving beast. Inside was some ripe fruit. This is not some rash mistake. Althia has given me pardon. She wants me to find her, yes. The beast was told to leave this bag on the ground, knowing of my limited stock. As I bit into one of the green apples inside, it glistening in the light, I thought it was the best thing I've ever tasted, not because of its crisp and tart manner, but because Althia, my future bride, has gifted it to me. She wants me to live, which is more than what any woman has ever cared for me to do. Althia must really indeed be Alice, yes. Alice is hiding somewhere up here in the Catskill range, wishing for me to murder the dog that is Sam. How genius is Alice, fooling me with her soft, human guise. No matter. I will love her green tentacled large spongy body as much as I would any other woman. She is a goddess, and I cannot question her ways. She demands my mind's utter obedience, and that I will give her, gladly, faithfully.
Chapter 2 Part 3
This is truly astonishing. The tunnel throughout the bowels of this hill was, at first, what I thought to be a terrestrial-induced innovation, but I knew that this was only a partial truth. Nature had dugage, perhaps what would bring me closer to Althia's stronghold. The entire hollow of the hill was pitch-black, indicating my definite need for my lantern. The ground, however, was highly disturbed. Both footprint and hoofprint beat a very deep path into the tunnel. Caution was of dire need, as there may be many perils that could lurk in what would be normally a quiet resting place.
I believed, originally, I was without incident. How wrong I was, as I fell to one knee, a disgusting siren singing sharply into my ear. The memories poured into me, recalling the not so-distant past, before Alice came into my office. Why this, oh, why this?
I slept each night in my office, rarily ever feeling the need to return to my flat. What nourishment I did not receive, I gained through the artificial carrier that is cigarettes and booze. Sometimes I'd have a bagel and coffee in the morning, and, that Friday, it was no different. As I returned to my desk, I sat down, and remembered my schooling at the university. There, I was not popular, and other students shunned me, be them man or woman. The hazings were both deliberate and without reward. As I sat there at my desk, I realized that these memories served me no good. How foolish this lime vision is, a flashback of a flashback. As I ate in my epitome, I swore that this is the bottom. What I never had in sociality was my crutch. Sobriety mattered not in the wake of the death of my mother. My mother is the only one who could stop me in my fall. Alas, she is gone, forbidden to give me her soft hugs and wooing words. As I thought thoroughly, returning to my pleating world, I realized that my tears that Friday morning were a prelude to a comforting embrace of possibilities, impossible or not. What mocking I've received will become banished as I find Althia's strangling-yet-fitting embrace. Her desires are what's best for me. She has seen what I can be, where others saw only what I cannot be. The waking world is a destructive paradise, where deaths of the common fit only into an oppressing chain that begins at birth for mostly all. I'd imagine only Althia, the fair matron, can save us from our God-given inequity. It makes you wonder, really. From what I have gathered, this female ancient creature that is Althia is what one that I would consider a deity. Her appearance may not befit her inner delicacy, but her loud beating heart and her silent mind are what we call her defining features. She breathes emotion, wisdom, enlightenment, and physical fortification. Her eyes alone and can bend and ply a man's will. What gives into her eyes will undoubtedly give into her mind, and thus her heart. Once you are in the old god's heart, you will perish to this world. One should not wish to remain in this life, for it offers nihl for the unselected. For those who are selected, this life will yield thorned fruit that is as nasty in its taste as in its benefits. You'll be motioned to believe that money and lovers are an avenue of joy, but the reality is the jaded opposite. What kills doeth kills. Those who enter madness of my wide scale will see things for what they really are worth. Nothing is without a subliminal side.
This tunnel had one more offering for me, a dropped sack by what may be a still moving beast. Inside was some ripe fruit. This is not some rash mistake. Althia has given me pardon. She wants me to find her, yes. The beast was told to leave this bag on the ground, knowing of my limited stock. As I bit into one of the green apples inside, it glistening in the light, I thought it was the best thing I've ever tasted, not because of its crisp and tart manner, but because Althia, my future bride, has gifted it to me. She wants me to live, which is more than what any woman has ever cared for me to do. Althia must really indeed be Alice, yes. Alice is hiding somewhere up here in the Catskill range, wishing for me to murder the dog that is Sam. How genius is Alice, fooling me with her soft, human guise. No matter. I will love her green tentacled large spongy body as much as I would any other woman. She is a goddess, and I cannot question her ways. She demands my mind's utter obedience, and that I will give her, gladly, faithfully.
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