George the Strudel
I don't know when it happened. When I first felt emotion. I do know that I felt before I ever thought. Then, I felt again, a terrible feeling. Despair.
This, my curse, my feeble existence. Soft and flaky, filled with jam. Maybe jelly. No matter.
It sounds frivolous, but my life is torment.
As I said earlier, the first conscious thought I had was preceded by a feeling. Cold. I'm in a musty cardboard tomb, on death row, presumably to meet a fate far worse than execution. Surrounded by my "kin" I am in absolute isolation. It is as if I was stuffed into a freezer thickly laden with corpses.
One thought, one fragment, of this existential hell gives me anything but agony.
Escape.
What if there's more to this world. A reason for being, beyond this nightmarish frozen wasteland. Perhaps, there's a purpose for my life. In the occasional lucky glimpses I get through the creased folded panels of my prison, I've seen it.
I've seen hope, light...warmth...
That's what I need. Once I escape this soggy prison, I can reach the euphoric glow of the other side.
Sometimes, during those rare and auspicious views of heaven, they host something far more sinister. A massive hand that purposefully grasps anything it chooses, withdrawing them into what should be peace. I can't shake the feeling that this thing is responsible for some terrible machinations.
Whatever this demon is, I've had the chance to observe it over my innumerable imprisonment. It "feeds" on things from the frosty tomb. On one occasion, I watched it scoop out the frosted remains of some creamy, gelatinous being. It deeply disturbed me as I witnessed the husk of what may have held a life not unlike my own gnashed about by giant protruding mouth bones, while sloshed around by a writhing tendril inside of that dark, foreboding chasm.
Today is the day. My final chance. The gateway opened, warmth and light flooded this frigid crypt. An experience I've grown to praise. Though this time is different. My damp, disheveled coffin has been hoisted unceremoniously out of the dark. I sit now, still confined, but one medium more free.
There is light all around. My brethren lay motionless, cramped in this "cell" with me. Whether they ever lived, as I do now, I'll never truly know.
My existential thoughts of their possible lives are brought to a halt by the warm, soft, fleshy hold of the massive hand gently grasping my body.
Could it be? Is this creature an agent of freedom?
I'm lowered against the counter. The entire bright, and joyful world around me is astounding. How long have I been in captivity? How long have I existed before I grew sentience? Once more, my musings are cut short as I bear witness to what's attached to the hand.
A brutal, massive being. Fleshy, and putrid, lurches over me. I can almost feel the warmth its body exudes. I still can't shake the sense that something sinister is afoot. I attempt to move, but to no avail. I once thought it was due to the cold, halting my form, but now I know. It's just another horrible feature of this mortal coil.
The hand slowly descends on me.
For what purpose?
I'm lifted, soaring through the air. I've never felt so free, but I'm scared.
Why?
I'm delicately lowered into the slot of some sort of device. I fit perfectly, as if it was made for me. I see the hand retracting, reaching for another section of the machinery.
With a click, I'm lowered further into the bowels of this contraption.
What is going on?
Slowly, the pit begins to illuminate. The heat begins to grow. It is glorious! Bit by bit, I feel my body start to shed the chill that I once thought immutable. But something is wrong...
The heat, it continues. It builds. I begin to crisp. My outer edges darken, I feel my innards begin to loosen and stir, my filling thaws too. Yet the heat still builds.
It's too much!
I can't stand it, it burns! I sizzle and squeal in pain, flecks of frost melting, dropping, and turning to steam in this infernal construct. It's agony!
As the warmth ceases to yield, my vision turns brighter and brighter. As I hope for death, the face of the fleshy monster hovers overhead. It's mouth begin's to curl, monstrous white teeth stare back down at me. A bead of moisture forms, and trickles down its bottom lip. As the saliva gathers and drops on to of me, the pain becomes too much to bear.
The torture peaks, then the lights around me begin to dim. I'm unsure if the heat has truly stopped, or if my body can no longer feel. I'm launched from the machine and freefall onto a smooth ceramic surface. A package, something I recognize from my previous prison, is held over my body. The thick white contents slowly drizzle over me.
The grinning monster seems to take particular joy in desecrating my broken body. The cool white icing feels like a balm on my crisp and scorched exterior.
Is it too much to hope that this creature is done with me?
Not a moment later, I'm back in the hands of the foul beast. Slowly lifted towards its gnashing, moist orifice. A writhing tongue awaits inside, eager to greet me. I now know what this life is.
There is no heaven.
But still, two thoughts rack my mind, one worse than the next.
Why wont it all just end? Oh god...
What happens when I'm inside?
Written by Tewahway
Content is available under CC BY-SA
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