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Space_of_Writing

Science fiction fantasy
Joined
Mar 31, 2018
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Continue this little part and make a full short story.
The flashlight is very helpful. I can see everything. The lab could be from a sappy horror movie. Everywhere are shelves which strange things. Bottles are filled with eyes, baggy stuff, and other things. Somewhere is the sound of falling drops…
 
...of something that goes *glug* and *bloop* and smells and sounds a lot like boiling sewage. I step on some of it. It clings to my new running shoes. It climbs up my leg like a horny dog. This is what I get for jogging through the forest this late at night...
 
.... on an unfamiliar path. Why I didn't I run back away up the path after this ramshacked place revealed itself in the weak light of my flashlight I just don't know. .....
 
...so much for a shortcut!
This place is creeping me out. Got to be an old film set. These jars. But the cry that drew me in from the rain. What if someone's hurt? Oh my...something moved in the corner!
 
More of the clingy, climby stuff, moving of its own accord. The smell is nearly tactile as it forms into a visage. A roughly humaniod visage. Its...her...lips start to move...
 
I wondered to myself as beads of sweat began pouring down my face. In a panic, I slowly backed away keeping the flashlight centered on what ever was in the form of my late wife. Cracks, and then a shatter of glass erupted from behind my. I turned my head to see one of the containers filled with eyes had fell to the floor. As one of the eyeballs rolled in my direction, I could make out small pointed legs oozing out of it.
 
Crash! Another jar toppled then another and a series of shattering explosions followed, invisible beyond my torch beam.
I stood pinned on the spot as the scurrying eyeball approached, its scratching movements soon joined by a restless seething which grew louder as dozens of glistening shapes began to appear.
I heard John Denver and screamed pathetically.
 
"You fill up my senses ... " echoed from tinny speakers way off in the building.
'Like a night in the forest ... ' I thought about the woods outside. And my ex - what was her name again? It began with an 'A' I'm sure.
Yes! I remember singing it every time we got drunk and how she ... Annie ... always went quiet and red and would clench her fists in time to the beautiful, timeless masterpiece. She mentioned it during the divorce. Ahh ... sweet days.
But why here? Why now?
 
"Peeetuhhh ... "

Her voice, calling me.

More sounds, like someone wriggling their fingers in a gigantic bag of crisps.

I back away from the terrifying noise and the shining, writhy mass crawling towards me.

I've never laughed like this before. It's a sickly choking gasp - like hers that night.

A thin crack in the roof permits moonlight and displays a new abomination.

A fine, beautiful nose, propelled on tapping legs criss crosses the floor, its nostrils twitching to my scent.

But how can it function without a diaphragm, lungs, so on and so forth and what have you? I'd put them in bags and buried them. It doesn't make any ...

you fill up my senses ...

I kept changing tense as her voice grows loudlier. I was started to losing it/they.

Then I back up against a long bench the likes of which I'll not forget recently. And who would blame me?

Her voice sounded closer in the confusion of my mind. I recalled her imploring face and most of all her mouth which now slides into view over my wrist.

It totters slightly, the thicker lower lip threatening to over balance those inadequate looking legs.

I cry out as her accusing eyes skip lightly up my thighs and an ear appeared to hear me from the floor.

I feel pressure on my hands where hers straddle my wrists, clamping them to the bench.

Settling on my cheek now, she whispers "come fill me again" and rows of pulled teeth ready themselves behind her lips
 

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