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| Triple Dog Dare (May be a little freaky, but PG) http://www.arwen-undomiel.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=48&t=16290 |
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| Author: | smeagollum [ August 16th, 2007, 1:46 am ] |
| Post subject: | Triple Dog Dare (May be a little freaky, but PG) |
I promise that there is nothing bad in it, promise. I figure that you all should know that Smeag can write.. well. So here you go: <center>TRIPLE DOG DARE</center> I winced as my feeble knees felt as if they were just about to buckle. The proceeding steps towards the unknown abyss, as it seemed to be, were going to test my very soul itself. I could feel the tingling of my optic nerves encompass my entire being and fill my wretched heart with despair and desire to stop what it was just about to encounter. I was weak. My bleeding heart was broken in two from the edge of fear, anxiety, and all else people consider wrong and distasteful. However, no distilled emotion could prevent this age long walk from my static position to the abandoned and run down house I was proceeding to come upon. As my shrinking feet stumbled along the crooked pathway, the wind howled at me and mocked me while carrying the heart-hit giggles of my so-called friends through the air and into the red carcasses of what some call the heart. My intuitive ears rang like the resounding sound of the morning alarm that rudely interrupts one's quiet hibernation to the outer appearance of a dark and lonesome hour. The only difference between this and an unmoral alarm is I cannot simply shatter the sound by flipping a flimsy switch. No, this alarm, this ringing, was never going to end. It continued to buzz the phrase, "I dare you," into the sickening mental picture of a regular sleepover going bad. I was consumed by the thought of failing that all I could do was to continue along the narrow, coarse path towards the seemingly non-reachable house. The wayward breath from my nostrils faded away, and I proceeded in breathing heavily through my open, sensitive mouth while taking in the stench-ridden foul air. Immediately, my skeletal lungs tighten and my previously opened mouth collapsed from the bringing forth of such a disgusting and bitter taste that I forced myself to pause for a moment to regain the idea of control in my uncontrollable situation. Soon I was able to relinquish my torn mind and look up towards the fear-infested house. I presumed that it seemingly stood about fifty feet away. Even though, in the back of my simplistic thoughts, I knew that every inch was a mile, and every second an hour. Ages passed along the crooked walkway, and my opaque mind wandered into what I hopefully alleged was a better direction. I took my firm gaze off of the intensely broadening house to hopefully find an alternative route to being content. The rugged and demoralized side-yards did not improve my tangible situation; in fact, I may debate they worsened it. The rusted grass extended along a wild plateau and reached upward at least two feet into the sky. I could feel the glass edges cut my soft and tender legs as a few stranglers ran off the appointed area onto the dismembered path and pierced my sunken skin. However, when I saw this was not overwhelming, I continued peering outward while simultaneously moving forward. Litter and trash were sparingly scattered throughout the depraved and un-groomed yard as if they were the feed for something else. I could have bet that I saw something small, yet vicious, crawl before me then disappear into the engulfing darkness. The shadowy creature, I also recall, had a distinct smell that rode up into my nostrils and smelt as if this animal was rotting away while it was still alive. The sickening thought pressed me forward as I looked up into the rotted wood of the side panels making up the latent porch. My mimicking friends yelled at me to continue, but their echoing cries were carried off by the gentle wind. What encompasses my entire mind and senses could only concentrate on the magnitude and engulfing presence of the rotten house. The aura of this house tingled my touch, rung in my ears, heightened my sight, brought out my sense of smell, and tasted like a bitter sweet cookie. I was transformed into the overlapping quality of this house that it seemed to beckon me forward closer and closer. I tapped my feet on top of the rotted wood making up the porch and proceeded towards the elaborate, yet decaying, door. My worn hand rose with a limping aspect and embraced the frigged, metal doorknob. It rotated slightly, and this jail door opened with a prolonged squeaking sound. Although, all I could see, hear, feel, smell, and taste was the ultimate presence of this overpowering house, even through the ear-piercing scream of my so-called friends and the sound of their trampling feet further and further away. |
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