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The Boy Who Was God (standard:horror, 6785 words)
Author: Andrew RAdded: Jun 16 2002Views/Reads: 1910/1139Story 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. 


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