Fluid by Mystica43229

She woke up drenched in sweat. It must have been a bad dream, but it was escaping her mind fast. Flashes of madness, screams and blood. So much blood… She kept on shaking; the sweat on her salty skin was turning cold. She tasted the copper on her lips and felt nauseated. Her stomach started to turn and had the kind of feeling you have when caught in a lie and don’t know what to do. “What happened?” she thought. She fought to get out of bed, tangled in wet sheets. She felt like she was paralyzed. Arwyn lay in bed for five minutes struggling to get out. She felt chained to it. She finally managed to put her feet on the carpet. Arywn felt pain explode through her head like someone was trying to wrench a bolt into it. As she tried to stand up, she face-planted the floor. Arwyn moaned and thought she couldn’t take much more of this. Did she break her nose? She tried to lift her head up and blood started pouring down her face. Her head fell back down on the carpet. She turned her gaze towards her bed and started screaming at the sight under it.


Arwyn thought she was hallucinating. The night light gave illumination of what she saw. The gore in front of her green eyes could not be there. It seemed to be human. It also seemed to have some sort of face, but half of it was gone. Ribbons of flesh hung from its face like a curtain. An eyeball hung from its socket to the carpet dripping blood in what seemed to be two second increments. Dark blood curdled out from the body. As she got the courage to inch closer, the body was ripped open; the rib cage was visible. She inched even closer… The heart was still in its chest. The body was naked and she saw a penis and the only article of clothing he had was a red tie that seemed to be entangled in his ribs. “Ok” she thought, “It’s a man. But why is a man dead underneath my bed?” Arwyn’s mind was racing. One million thoughts were running through it; counting sheep won’t help her sleep tonight. Actually, she may never sleep again.

“I need to call the Police! No! Wait! I can’t explain why a mutilated dead man is under my bed! Maybe I should walk through my house. No! What if the murderer is still here?” She thought. Arwyn got up, still aching and her head still throbbing. She looked down, she was naked. She never sleeps naked. There was blood all over her. She had scratches on her breasts and arms; not quite deep enough to need stitches, but just enough to still be bleeding. Her long blond hair was caked in crimson. She looked over at the bed; smears of blood were all over the sheets. “This can’t be real.” She thought. Arwyn willed herself to walk into the master bathroom. Even though the bathroom was a few feet away, it felt like it took forever to get there. She struggled to turn on the light. The switch felt heavy on her finger. She managed to flip it up and walk toward the vanity. She closed her eyes before she looked into the mirror; like somehow she knew what she would see would not be believable. She finally pried open her eyes.

At first, Arwyn only focused on her green eyes. She always loved them. In fact, it was the only thing she liked about herself. She has always been very critical of herself. She never liked her pale complexion; it made her think she looked like a ghost. Her body was never quite right; her breasts were too small, her stomach was never flat and her feet were way too big. Her hair never was exactly straight and never the color she liked. The truth is: Arwyn wanted perfection. It was a conundrum because no one is ever really perfect, but yet they strive for it. Some people suffer form anorexia or bulimia; she suffered from a personality disorder to where she strived to be perfect that some psychologist call a maladaptive perfectionist with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. It consumes her day. She gets up three hours before she has to; gazing in the mirror, trying to suck her stomach in, looking at every blemish, painstakingly applying her makeup and finding the perfect outfit. Arywn also spends one hour in the shower scrubbing until her skin is red so her skin is soft and washing her hair three times. No one but her knows this disorder. Not at work, and her friends don’t know because she doesn’t have friends. She doesn’t even date men, so finding a dead man underneath her bed is perplexing because of that fact.

Arwyn finally looked at herself. The tears started to swell up. She had dried blood on both sides of her mouth; her eye was bruised and was turning blacker and blacker by the second. It looked like an old bruise on her stomach; it was turning yellow. “I don’t remember ever getting this bruise.” She thought. She looked at her fingernails; two were broken off and bleeding and it seemed like there was some bloody skin underneath them. Not being able to look at herself anymore and still in bewilderment, she turned away. She eyed the dead man underneath the bed as she walked past and out the room half thinking he would get up and perhaps get revenge. “Why would I think that?” She thought. “There is no way I could have done this.” She slowly crept down the hallway to the living room. The carpet felt sticky. It was still dark outside and her place was pitch black and she was afraid to turn the lights on because in the back of her mind she wondered if there would be another dead body. She padded into the living room and looked around. Everything seemed normal. She walked by the living room and into the kitchen. She flipped the switch.

Read the entire story here.....

(C) mystica43229

(NOTE TO READERS: Please be advised that the remainder of this posting  contains language that some readers may find offensive, this posting is not recommended to readers 18 years and under; however as our site embraces all creative works and this short story is considered to be "Creative Writing, Crime, Fiction" - we are very proud to post StormSage Centrals 1st Creative Writing peice by new member Mystica43229).

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