| General Fiction posted October 29, 2018 | Chapters: |
...78 79 -80- 81... 
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a 200-word horror story
A chapter in the book Short
Rest of My Life
by Bill Schott
It is an amazing sensation to have a tiny life inside of me. Its every movement touches my nerves, like a masked man with a chainsaw in a china cabinet. My eyes blast open as the eardrum splits and my sinus cavity becomes a site of exploration and habitation.
Outside my skull, an army of violators pry at my eyelids and navigate up my nasal passages. Winning, they lift and violate my eyes, as fellow ant invaders meet and eat.
The hill upon which I am staked, paralyzed by well-concocted potions which steal strength, yet heighten awareness, is home to killer ants.
Tears fill in between the bodies of the many ants which are wallowing in the sclera that drips past their boney frames. They burrow in, each mandible excavating and each pointed appendage jabbing into the burning nerves that are my life.
Head filled, I am still conscious of their invasion, though my thoughts are strangely at ease. The pain of needles shooting through my cranium, although beyond more detailed description, has become the normal expectation of what will be the rest of my life.
How I came to this position is pointless to recollect. I am -- home.
HOrror writing prompt entry
It is an amazing sensation to have a tiny life inside of me. Its every movement touches my nerves, like a masked man with a chainsaw in a china cabinet. My eyes blast open as the eardrum splits and my sinus cavity becomes a site of exploration and habitation.
Outside my skull, an army of violators pry at my eyelids and navigate up my nasal passages. Winning, they lift and violate my eyes, as fellow ant invaders meet and eat.
The hill upon which I am staked, paralyzed by well-concocted potions which steal strength, yet heighten awareness, is home to killer ants.
Tears fill in between the bodies of the many ants which are wallowing in the sclera that drips past their boney frames. They burrow in, each mandible excavating and each pointed appendage jabbing into the burning nerves that are my life.
Head filled, I am still conscious of their invasion, though my thoughts are strangely at ease. The pain of needles shooting through my cranium, although beyond more detailed description, has become the normal expectation of what will be the rest of my life.
How I came to this position is pointless to recollect. I am -- home.
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Writing Prompt Write a short flash fiction story between 100 to 200 words based on the themes specified in contest details. |
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