Bogleech.com's 2018 Horror Write-off:
The City of Millennium
Submitted by The Bee Keeper
The City of Millennium
A piercing vibration rattled my ears and reverberated through my jaws, as I held the bear close to my face. The vibration escalated to a painful whine, causing me to lose my grip on the tatty frumpled old teddy. But I held doggedly to the old toy. Lowering it to my belt and looping it there with a thread, I diminished most but not all of the strange discomfort it caused me.
It would seem silly that I should hold onto something so uncomfortable. But this bear was my hold on reality. Every fiber of my being wanted to toss it away. However, I knew better. This toy wasn't merely an old clump of stitched up cotton smudged with dust and even dustier memories. They were some of my first memories. My parents gave me my teddy bear or "tedted" as I called it when I was probably two or maybe three. I brought it everywhere with me 'till I was eight. Then I got good old humongosaur for Christmas. But the point being that Tedted was my first gift and dear friend. I'd kept him in a box, unable to part with 'im, but ultimately forgetting about him.
As I strode down the steps I still wanted to get rid of the ridiculous toy on my belt. But was it really I that wanted to desert my poor old pal Tedted? I knew the answer to that already, I just didn't like to admit it. I looked at the steps and they looked back at me.
I entered the empty ground level floor. It was also stained and laced with veiny tendrils. Clearly no part of my childhood home was left unaltered. I had hoped that with it being situated in the rolling hills outside the walls of the city that it would be free of the changes that had consumed the other homes. It always began in the house of a person's childhood before it moved on to changing the person.
Knowing this, I didn't even want to see my old home. Though I had to. It was my only hope of staving off the force at work here. I needed to find my most sentimental item. Anything I owned that seemed to remind me the most, who I really was. And so I stepped out into the scraggly weed filled yard with a teddy bear at my hip, the dusk sky fading to purple.
I had preserved some degree of who I thought I ought to be by listening to what Owl had said to me two evenings before. But was this really enough. I knew I wasn't entirely me, not the me I remember being. How long would it be before I lost track of the changes and there wasn't anything left of me in this body anymore?
A piercing vibration rattled my ears and reverberated through my jaws, as I held the bear close to my face. The vibration escalated to a painful whine, causing me to lose my grip on the tatty frumpled old teddy. But I held doggedly to the old toy. Lowering it to my belt and looping it there with a thread, I diminished most but not all of the strange discomfort it caused me.
It would seem silly that I should hold onto something so uncomfortable. But this bear was my hold on reality. Every fiber of my being wanted to toss it away. However, I knew better. This toy wasn't merely an old clump of stitched up cotton smudged with dust and even dustier memories. They were some of my first memories. My parents gave me my teddy bear or "tedted" as I called it when I was probably two or maybe three. I brought it everywhere with me 'till I was eight. Then I got good old humongosaur for Christmas. But the point being that Tedted was my first gift and dear friend. I'd kept him in a box, unable to part with 'im, but ultimately forgetting about him.
As I strode down the steps I still wanted to get rid of the ridiculous toy on my belt. But was it really I that wanted to desert my poor old pal Tedted? I knew the answer to that already, I just didn't like to admit it. I looked at the steps and they looked back at me.
I entered the empty ground level floor. It was also stained and laced with veiny tendrils. Clearly no part of my childhood home was left unaltered. I had hoped that with it being situated in the rolling hills outside the walls of the city that it would be free of the changes that had consumed the other homes. It always began in the house of a person's childhood before it moved on to changing the person.
Knowing this, I didn't even want to see my old home. Though I had to. It was my only hope of staving off the force at work here. I needed to find my most sentimental item. Anything I owned that seemed to remind me the most, who I really was. And so I stepped out into the scraggly weed filled yard with a teddy bear at my hip, the dusk sky fading to purple.
I had preserved some degree of who I thought I ought to be by listening to what Owl had said to me two evenings before. But was this really enough. I knew I wasn't entirely me, not the me I remember being. How long would it be before I lost track of the changes and there wasn't anything left of me in this body anymore?