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Literature Text
08/08/2007
I remain. The events of the last few days have completely changed me, both physically and mentally. I hate it. I hate this poison that afflicts me, that which controls me with that everlasting lust. I hate that disease which has changed me into something barely human, bestial at best. It seems in the space a few days I have abandoned all I held dear, abandoned to some primordial, alien urges. My last shreds of humanity lie in taters around me. I sit hear, in my darkened room.
I remain. This alone should tell you of the sins I have committed. Having your own parents, your own flesh and blood as your first victims is... terrible. I feel I have betrayed that which I held closest, that which I was trying to protect. But... in whatever form I now possess I felt great pleasure of the blood, the liquid to sate my thirst, to ensure my survival. There is something animalistic, uncaring and selfish about the act. It is indescribable for me, the drawing of the warm, dark blood, their hurried heart beats, pumping blood vainly to stop the attack, only fortifying my strength. I listened as it slowed, and they sagged.
Am I a murderer? Am I truly damned? A freak forced to leach off others life force, to invade their most private of places purely to continue my pitiful existence on this world? Would it have been better simply to abandon those and search out some other poor soul, or simply to have ended my own existence then? I do not know if any life remains within their shells, any chance of them recovering from my desperate actions. Even if there was, could I awaken them to hear their objections... I fear in one fell swoop I have robbed two of their lives and forever damned myself in this form.
My mind remains a tattered web of distracted thoughts. I have lain in my room all day, windows shut and curtains drawn. The phone rang once, twice, maybe more. My will lost and my humanity betrayed I ignored it. I speculated wildly over whether I should phone an ambulance for my parents but I could see the damage I had caused... there would be questions, and all this effort to survive would be futile. Would this be what my parents would have wished me to do? My mother always said she would be happy so long as I was safe, that life seems so far away from me now. Can I justify what I have done? Should I? I can't answer any of this today, but I know someone who can.
I remain. The events of the last few days have completely changed me, both physically and mentally. I hate it. I hate this poison that afflicts me, that which controls me with that everlasting lust. I hate that disease which has changed me into something barely human, bestial at best. It seems in the space a few days I have abandoned all I held dear, abandoned to some primordial, alien urges. My last shreds of humanity lie in taters around me. I sit hear, in my darkened room.
I remain. This alone should tell you of the sins I have committed. Having your own parents, your own flesh and blood as your first victims is... terrible. I feel I have betrayed that which I held closest, that which I was trying to protect. But... in whatever form I now possess I felt great pleasure of the blood, the liquid to sate my thirst, to ensure my survival. There is something animalistic, uncaring and selfish about the act. It is indescribable for me, the drawing of the warm, dark blood, their hurried heart beats, pumping blood vainly to stop the attack, only fortifying my strength. I listened as it slowed, and they sagged.
Am I a murderer? Am I truly damned? A freak forced to leach off others life force, to invade their most private of places purely to continue my pitiful existence on this world? Would it have been better simply to abandon those and search out some other poor soul, or simply to have ended my own existence then? I do not know if any life remains within their shells, any chance of them recovering from my desperate actions. Even if there was, could I awaken them to hear their objections... I fear in one fell swoop I have robbed two of their lives and forever damned myself in this form.
My mind remains a tattered web of distracted thoughts. I have lain in my room all day, windows shut and curtains drawn. The phone rang once, twice, maybe more. My will lost and my humanity betrayed I ignored it. I speculated wildly over whether I should phone an ambulance for my parents but I could see the damage I had caused... there would be questions, and all this effort to survive would be futile. Would this be what my parents would have wished me to do? My mother always said she would be happy so long as I was safe, that life seems so far away from me now. Can I justify what I have done? Should I? I can't answer any of this today, but I know someone who can.
This was probably the hardest part to write so far, as it goes against my nature as a human being, but, given the right situation and the right instinct I'm betting practically anyone would be capable of the acts depicted here, especially with the alternative of final death.
Part 5: [link]
Part 5: [link]
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