I had the good fortune to claim a runner up spot on Writing Magazine's Talkback site with my flash fiction piece, 'Whisper of the Gods.' It's my attempt at an allegory about the epiphany of self awareness when we realise we are the true masters of our actions and lives. It's the awakening of the sleeping giant that fights against unwarranted persecution only to realise he can all break the shackles and face his captors. Something we all need to do at times even if those captors are ourselves.
It's a theme I keep finding myself revisiting. Maybe that's all horror is- a wish to break from a slumber we know will terrify and test us.
Whisper of the Gods
It was a dot at first. Then it grew to the size of an unfurling fist. I thought of spiders. Do they grow at such speed, move in such a lethargic manner? No, it was a shadow that crawled along my cell wall.
I tried calling out but I had no mouth. Not since they had stitched it up. I looked at the straps that pinned me down. I rolled my eyes. My vision rested on the shadow, now the size of a football.
Soon it filled the wall next to my bunk. I struggled in the leather straps, the sweat easing them a little. It slid down the crumbling plaster, crawled across my body and sank into my skin. It was inside me.
The shadow stank of rotting flesh, made me puke inside my mouth. No escape from missing lips, I swallowed. My organs seared, my skin tightened and my muscles bulged. The shadow overtook me, empowered me. I snapped off the straps and roared. The screams ripped apart my mouth releasing my voice through strips of raw flesh. They had beaten me, silenced my voice. Now I roared until footsteps echoed down the hallways toward my cell. This time I'm ready. They can't harm me. This time, I am free.