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Like the title says, this is just a random thing I wrote out of boredom. It's inspired by Twin Peaks, specifically the Black Lodge portions of the show. I might post more short stories here if I want I guess.

Enjoy. Or not. I dunno, here it is.

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Sometimes, he contemplates his time here.

He does not know how long he has been trapped in this room, this room of plain white walls and black velvet curtains. Time seems to blend here, until he does not know the difference between days and months, between seconds and centuries. He sits here, in an armchair of black leather, with no contact save for the occasional visit from an abomination that chooses to sit in the (currently vacant) armchair across from him.

While he waits, for what he does not know, he thinks of the abominations. Sometimes, there is something resembling a bipedal turtle. Other times, a little man in a red tunic with a matching hat. Once there was an overgrown fetus, but he prefers to forget when it showed up.

He remembers a woman in a flowing white dress, which contrasted beautifully with the black leather, who used to sit with him but has been gone for a long time (or did she just leave?). She would speak to him in words that were fractured and would have left the average person confused, but he understood like it was his first language. What he would give to hear her voice now.

Occasionally, he sees something out of the corner of his eye. But whenever he looks, he seems to be just a second (mayhaps an hour?) too late and it scurries away only to return as soon as he goes back to staring blankly ahead. This has happened many times, and recently he has given up on the hope of ever seeing what it is.

He is not exactly sure what this room is anymore. It may be Limbo, or even Hell, but he does not think so because, from what he remembers, he entered it voluntarily. Why he entered it voluntarily is unclear, but it must have been a good reason. After all, who would subject themselves to this for nothing?

He blinks, and the room still has not changed.

Sometimes, he contemplates his time here.

This is great and you should write more. It would be effective in a sort of eerie dream logic-ish way even if someone didn't recognize the Twin Peaks connections.

It's a terrible shame that you're so lazy and display such a lack of DISCIPLINE. Write something like this every day until it becomes a habit.

Also, Twin Peaks is cool and good.

I am indeed a bad influence.

Fuck it, this place will be my archive for short stories I guess. Here's something I just whipped up for Goretober, can read it here or in the Inktober/Goretober thread.

Enjoy.

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It had started only a few days after my trip to South America.

These rashes showed up on my stomach, my face, my arms, my legs, any part of my body really. At first I thought nothing of it, applied some rash cream and went on with my day. It got worse.

There were these pains in my stomach, like something was trying to burrow its way out or something. I went to the doctor, but he said he couldn't find anything wrong with me. I tried to forget about it, thinking it was maybe just food poisoning or something similar.

The diarrhea started. My shit was basically just brown water with little chunks in them, but there were tinges of blood. I was really starting to freak the hell out. After a few days, my shit was just pure blood. Piss too. I thought I was dying.

During a bathroom break, after shitting I checked, to see if it was still blood. But floating in that toilet bowl, surrounded by bloody feces, was... Something.

It was white, and rubbery and covered in my blood and fecal matter. It kind of looked like a condom for a baby dick after some violent anal fucking, but it couldn't have been, I'm not into that fucked up shit. I looked closer at it, and it twitched slightly.

That wasn't a condom.

It was a worm.

No. Hell to the fucking no.

I didn't even bother wiping my bloody ass. I ran straight outside and got in my car, and drove straight for the hospital. Bloody shit dripping down my leg, I ran straight into the emergency room and frantically explained to the receptionist what happened. She called a doctor and some nurses down into the room and they rushed me to a room on a stretcher. They did some scans, and found dozens of worms in my dietary tract.

Hell no.

In the end, I got surgery to remove them. Put a big dent in my savings, but it's not like I was just going to wait until some fucking worms nibbled through my guts.

...

Weeks have passed since then. They said they took them all out. But sometimes, at night, I listen closely, and swear I can hear a little tiny nibbling sound coming from within my head.

Pretty spoopy, Chris. As a kid I was very much afraid of getting parasites through hotdogs and stuff like that.

At first I thought the main character had Ebola, lol.

He went to South America, Zag. Not West Africa.

1. Worms aren't insects.

2. I feel worms in your shit is LESS terrifying than condoms. I'm wondering how rough your ass sex is getting if you're losing the condom inside the ass, while worms are something that actually happen.