It Writhes

I held her to me, the tendrils pierced through us both to stitch us together in an intense dual climax. What felt like the entire contents of my testicles erupted inside her, and was consumed by what felt like thousands of tiny internal lumps and nodules. Still she bucked, riding me entirely empty, panting, and lifeless in a total loss of reality.

***

My room remained no longer, swallowed in a mass of ridged tentacles and fleshy nodules. The bed upon which I had remained for the last month had become rigid and cold, like a stone tablet, and I could not help but to have the strangest sense of some alien maternity ward.

The ever-working tendrils kept me at the edge of life with their mysteriously intravenous concoctions, denying me release, but doing little to ease my pain.

Something writhed within my stomach, often visibly displacing the flesh and racking me with bone-shattering agony. I felt all that I was being devoured from within, feeding this growing abomination that I had been gifted.

I was but cattle; I saw it now, I was but a surrogate for a higher existence that had deemed such an insignificant creature relevant. Perhaps in my own way, I had ascended beyond mortal, purely to be recognised and allowed to contribute to higher life.

For all my knowledge seeking, I had truly known nothing of the universe and its vastness. I had let my human arrogance blind me to reality. I had walked paper corridors and flimsy cracked pathways. Every delusion had crumbled to dust, and finally I was free from the lie.

I wept freely, although if from pain or happiness, I could not say. My worthless life would have been but a meaningless blip on the fabric of reality, if I had not been chosen. I was broken, limp and grateful for it. I was host and I was food. I was mother and I was egg.

I heard a large tearing sound, and felt a fierce burn in my centre. Every fibre of my flesh ebbed and ripped. My muscles convulsed endlessly and a thick mucous poured from the tiny wounds that began to open from chest to stomach. Spider-like limbs flitted from the forcefully widening holes before retreating inside.

My larynx ground itself to nothing in my raucous screams, and my eyes rolled wildly in their sockets. Blackness crept in to the edges of my vision, and one sole thought remained.

"It's been just over a year since I was designated, deigned to become more than but a man."