lilsean (lilsean) wrote in stupidfucks,

read:from the files of terrifyer

Natasha sits astride a white horse, stepping lightly through the wild grass and clover. her normally dark brown hair is instead a deep red, slicked back into a bun held with sticks like a geisha girl. a tattered wedding dress barely hangs on her pale, walfish body, blackened like it had been salvaged from a house fire. she is riding through a vast, rolling field surrounded on all sides by dense forest engulfed in flame. the tress rippling like belly dancers inside the fire, never burning down, just burning. the sky is somewhere beyound the fog of violent smoke, which reeks of sulphur and burning flesh, tiny red butterflies dart around her, leaving crisscrossing trails of crimson like someone scribbling through the air with a crayon. Natasha comes upon a small play ground in the center of the field. its a pit of sand with a mangled slide and a rusty swingset, where a scrawny, raven-haired boy about sixteen is rocking back and forth, spinning the cylinder of a revolver. hes dressed in a shiny, immaculate black suit. his saggy hair hangs down, hiding his face. the only sound natasha can hear is the sickening creak of the chains as he swings, deafening in its isolation. the boy spins the cylinder and holds the gun under his chin. natasha scrunches her face and covers her eyes in fearful anticipation. CLICK. she shudders, terrified by the sound, which seems as loud as an actul gunshot. she dismounts, feeling the grass tickle her bare feet. then she kisses the horse on the head and it turns, running full stride into the burning forest. when she turns hes holding the pistol limply to his tempe, as if he was bored with it. he squeezes the trigger slowley, excruciatingly, until finally...CLICK. even though natasha cant see his face, he seems almost disappointed as he spins the cylinder again. she steps into the sand, squishing it between her toes. theres only a few feet between them now and his hair seems to be moving, shifting. she looks closer and she sees hundreds of tiny spiders the color of cop lights scurrying around in his hair. she tries to speak his name but no sound comes out. again...nothing. she screams at him with all of her might and theres nothing except the clicking of the pistols hammer and the creaking of the rusty swingset. the boy places the gun under his chin again. natash bites her lips, tenses for the shot. CLICK. Springing to his feet he points the revolver between her green eyes. his elfin face is beautiful but lifeless, a pale, waxy death mask. his eyes are just hollow pits, black as ink. one of the spiders crawls out of his left socket and slowley down his cheek like a tiny blue tear. he pulls the trigger in slow motion..BANG
  • Post a new comment


    default userpic