-James

Wed, Dec 11, 8:57 AM (2 days ago)

I write this email in the hopes that it will exorcise the nightmare I have just awoken from. One pass only, no changes from me.

I was kidnapped. A black bag thrown over my head as the sergeant roughly carried me like a football. I struggled, as helpless as a small boy in a den of transvestites. The sounds of helicopters and great dust storms roared in my ears, and the cruel truncheon of the sun beat down on my neck and exposed arms. The shouts of brown people are all around me. Somehow I can see through the black bag as a psyker and see the men in their desert robes and covered faces. Some of them plant mines in the dirt around us. I hear on the wind the cries of children and women. I am beaten senseless and everything goes dark.

Months pass. I am the house slave of some barbarian family. A grandfather weathered by time and covered in scars and hair, a plump, soft, oddly pale young man, and the young man's wives and children. I work, and I am beaten when I don't, and I fear I will be used sexually but somehow know it won't happen. When I can I slip away to make prayers before The Almighty.

At some point I develop a large, rotten cyst on my manhood.

Everyone gets sick, and they all lick the asshole of grandpa to get better. Then they turn to me and beckon, and rip off my shorts and the cyst is this huge wormy THING writhing and breaking free of it's cocoon...

As I stared in horror at the cyst, the grandpa walked over to me, placed his hand on the rotting stump of my manhood, and squeezed it like a tube of toothpaste, and the cyst was the paste squirting out.

I awake in a cold sweat, and first of all thank God that this can never happen, and second think I should probably write this down before I forget.

Use this however you please, in a story, a blog post, a scene somewhere, whatever. Credit me, or not, as you wish. Cut it, warp it, add, delete, do what thou wilt. It is yours now and I offer this to you and the Khan in the hopes a sacrifice of a muse will get rid of such nightmares from my psyche. It felt too real to be comfortable knowing it was a dream...

...Go ahead. I said I offered it to you, and I meant that mythically. I stand by it. Leave it anonymous.