|The Boy Who Was God (standard:horror, 6785 words)|
|Author: Andrew R||Added: Jun 16 2002||Views/Reads: 1707/1029||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|He needed a new start, to put the past behind him. He hated the country but what the hell, it's about as far away as is comfortable, and he'd be helping people right?|
THE BOY WHO WAS GOD By Andrew Rough How long had it been now? He couldn't remember. Light was all around him, burning. The eyes unrelenting, unflinching. He wanted to sleep; everywhere he looked that white light. An unbearable pain throbbed through his body, the rush of blood through his veins like white-hot razors moving slowly over every inch of his skin. He tried to move his arms and found he couldn't, he began to wish for blindness again, he would cry but his tear ducts had gone with his eyelids. They had tied him so he couldn't gouge out his own eyes. He lay motionless, fatigued from drug-induced nightmares. He was naked, exposed for all, a used up toy. He tried to remember the time before and prayed for God's mercy. It was a cold autumn morning. The trees starkly outlined in the grey blue sky. James parked his car by the roadside. He had never liked the countryside, always preferred the security of a city, knowing where the nearest take-away was coming from was a distinct advantage to comfortable living. Never the less, here he was, 40 miles away from London in the Sussex countryside. He had passed the last village 3 miles back, 'East Grinstead'. He looked at the sign on the gate again, 'Nuhanger Lodge.' He checked his letter, just to make sure. This looked like the right place. 'A relaxing Victorian Manor set in the austere Sussex countryside.' Muddy and cold was the first thought that came to James, not enough shops was the next. But he knew this was the change he needed. Two years of hiding from the world at the pleasure of state handouts with only four dingy bed sit walls as company was too long for anyone. It was about time he did something with his life, there was too much trauma in the past. It was time to move forward. The building loomed on the horizon, jutting out from the line of the hillside, dark and foreboding. There was something unnatural about the building that made James feel uncomfortable, it just didn't seem to fit. He opened the gate and stepped onto the grounds, annoyed at the mud and the effort he'd taken to clean his shoes that morning, wasted by that first step into the muddy path. The grounds up to the building were bare, a dirty brown wasteland, islands of contrast provided by the gothic statues scattered throughout. He looked at one of the statues more closely as he moved towards the building, a man and a woman, naked, in the throws of passion. As he moved closer he noticed the grotesque gargoyle like faces on the figures. James felt a shiver of revulsion run through him. It was an odd choice of decoration for an asylum garden. It brought back memories of his nightmares. He got flashes of the men he had worked with in the pub, forcing themselves on him. He shook his head trying not to think of the life and friends he had given up because of it. He hurried on past the statue, towards Nuhanger Lodge. The building was made of large granite blocks. Large windows flanked the solid oak door, too dark to see in. The door sat back from an archway, decorated with a multitude of the same pornographic gargoyles he had seen in the garden. James looked for a bell, feeling more like turning and walking away every second. He couldn't see anything that looked right so he was forced to use the knocker on the oak door. He hesitated when he noticed the design, cast iron cock hammering onto an open mouth design. It made him think of the feeling he got when he had just started university; he was standing outside a door, late for his first lecture and not sure if he was in the right place. He had knocked and entered, asked, "Is this sociology?" The mothball smelling craggy lecturer had stared at him and said, "No, it's psychology, but if you're a first year you won't notice the difference, so sit down." He had sat next to a girl called Julia. He hadn't found out her name until after the lecture, after he had charmed her and asked her out for a drink. James took a deep breath, already sweating; he grasped the cock and knocked. The door opened slowly and silently. A woman answered, shrouded in the darkness from within. She was tall and slim, almost malnourished. Her eyes looked took big for her face and her cheeks were sunken. She had dark hair tightly pulled back to her scalp. The thin lips of her wide mouth formed a sullen expression; she looked at James expectantly. "I'm James Simpson, I'm here to meet Doctor Lenzinus." James extended his hand to great the woman. She chose to ignore it, turning she said, "This way please, you are expected." The doorway led into a large open hallway, gloomy in the natural light. A double staircase dominated the opposite wall, dark oak like the doorway. The whole room was decorated with wood panel. Click here to read the rest of this story (516 more lines)
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