Where did this come from?

It begins with anticipation.  Days stretch into weeks and weeks into months and so on and patience is a necessary and a surprisingly potent tonic.  So much comes down to the proper paperwork and it is printed and signed and dated and copies are made and stacks and stacks of it are clipped together and handed out to the appropriate parties.  Strange men in suits come to collect these documents and they make sure not a word is out of place.  They are pleased when they if I am sure because they already know I will say yes.  There is a dance at hand, a type of grandiose game and everyone has their part to play.  I cannot tell you yours before it is time for the show to begin but I can assure that a richly appropriate role awaits you.  

I am allowed to enter early on but only because my signature was made in red.  I am smiling at first but only at first. 

There is trembling in the temple and it is difficult for me to keep proper footing.  The halls are lined with ugly things and the sounds of their screaming fill the stretching black voids.  They are naked distortions of humanity and their movements are characterized by the wanton deformities and tumors on their legs and feet.  They have an endless appetite and I watch them consume the meat; organs ripped from animals or people or one another.  I watch as one tears open the stomach of another and wraps the intestines around her neck to finish the job and then they are both joined together and they are writhing and shaking and clasping hands and sometimes it sounds like they are shrieking and other times it sounds like laughter. 

There is such music and dancing and festivities and one grabs me and we waltz together and I let my head roll back to see the paintings on the ceiling of the tortured and the dying and blood running from their mouths and out of eye sockets and sometimes out of their respective sexual organs. 

The thing dancing with me has milky cataract ridden eyes and her mouth takes up half her face and is in a perpetually open state.  Her nostrils always appear flared and the nose itself quite reptilian and sunken into her face.  Her hair is gray and white twine spooling down around her face and stopping just short of her shoulders.  Her teeth are yellowed and sharpened and when she smiles and that mouth opens even wider the sight is truly horrifying and the stench of her breath nearly sends me vomiting. 

She is naked and I can see that her body is covered with cuts.  Many of these have been scarred over and are puckered and some of them run over one another like a grid.  But some of the cuts are quite fresh indeed and the exposed flesh beneath and the blood seeping out is a shockingly bright red.  Her blood is now all over me.  The skin which has not been cut has the color of a bruise on once white flesh.  She grabs one of my hands with a gnarled one of hers and the long nails dig into my palm and pierce my skin.  She forces my fingers inside one of the cuts on her stomach – right below her breasts – and pushes my hand further inside and I feel moist and tough meat and the rhythmic pulsing of her vile rotting interior.    

More of these things advance upon us and they strip me of my clothing and run slime covered hands through my hair and stick fingers and blistered tongues into my mouth.  Every time they touch – just as every time my not quite human partner presses her body closer to my own – my mind is set aflame with a new vision of excruciating torture and death.  There is so much rape and dismemberment taking place and I somehow recognize all the screaming faces. 

They grab my manhood then and I look away in time to feel crippling, thunderous pain shoot from my waist, down into my legs and up into my stomach.  I look down; it is still there but in an impossibly advanced state of some unknown disease; all grey and black with pus and blood oozing out. 

“They all look so pretty that way, don’t they?” one of them says this and her voice is like she swallowed broken glass. 

We continue to dance and she chants things I cannot understand and her eyes sparkle at these words and her smile grows somehow larger.  She never blinks I notice and at one point the chants turn into something fuller but then her voice turns completely shrill and she is screaming for me to love her and telling me of all the joy we are going to share.  She grabs my shoulders and pushes me down on my knees. 

Her exposed sex reeks as though it were an animal carcass left out in the sun.  She pulls it wide and I can see maggots and worms crawling inside.  As she pulls my head closer a large black spider crawls out of it and scurries up to her neck. 

It is here that any semblance of my old personality has been completely stripped away.  Tears are spilling out of my frantic eyes while I search for something, anything to focus on aside from the continuing onslaught of horrors.  I am aware that I am screaming and I believe I am attempting to say something through the screams but the words are at best unintelligible.  I have pissed myself and my body is a quivering and sweaty husk. 

“You will love me now,” she says.  “Just as you always wanted.  You will love me now and I will show you what true love feels like.”

I am penetrated and I am fully thrust forward.  My insides scream and every part of me is broken. 

Some part of me, a distant remnant of sanity, is pleading for forgiveness for my desires but they all laugh at my cries.  I will taste blood and then disease and then I will taste death.  They tell me all of this.  And they assure me that it is only the beginning our nights together.