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Note: This chapter is from the point of view of the dead body.

Male, dead, cold, and hungry. The soil I feel with my rotting left hand is soft and moist.

I dig into the soil, deep in between the particles. The moisture in the tips of my fingers adds to the already existing wetness of the black dirt, letting it give way with the mere touch of my fingertips. The texture is soft and rough with rotting plant material that stank like a compost heap, all full of fungi and bacteria: all full of life, the life I didn’t have.

I sniff in deeply as I detect the smell that catches my attention. I am quite certain what my nostrils are detecting. A human, for it smelt sweet and warm, flowing with that dark red sweetness I have long lost since my death in this dark, desolate swamp.

My face enters into the hole I have just dug out. I can still smell the scent of humans: a whole flock of them, too. I begin digging, and now I begin my voyage beneath the earth’s surface into the dark, moist surroundings that my body is fit to be.

My feast awaits.

Copyright 2007 anthony cardon

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Posted by Egoist 2008-03-09 16:07:20 .... How creepy. I really enjoyed reading this one as well. I think this was a great compliment to the first. I wasn't aware of what the corpse was digging the hole for, but it gave me shivers down my spine when I figured it out. As again, your imagery is excellent and the tone is extremely eerie. Imagine walking into some foggy swamp to see a corpse digging a hole. This is going to be one of my favorites, great job. + Report this comment

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