They wanted me here; why is this happening?
He stood amidst a nightmare. The audience was falling apart at the sound of his voice.
Still, he read.
As he finished another sentence he glanced up, and his eyes met a woman’s, whose husband was devouring the flesh around her waist. The blood spiked out of openings and rippled across her face and clothes.
He looked past them to see a child devouring the arm of his mother. The mother was in a complete state of calm. It was hard to tell if it was because of shock.
When he heard the incessant moaning he followed the sound to find two girls in a 69 position. They were shaking their heads madly and were somewhere between the throes of passion and violence.
He continued to read.
A faint scream pierced his left eardrum and stopped him short of his words. He wiped his forehead and kept on.
Ignore it, he thought.
The sound of tearing was everywhere. The smell of iron and vomit and all kinds of other unimaginable things hung like mist in the room.
A single man in the corner had managed to rip his own ears from his skull and began stomping on them. Each thud sent a wet smacking sound across the hollow venue and with each impact the fluorescent lights flickered.
This isn’t real.
Carnivorous, angry prisoners, all around me. Everything is vibrating with anarchy.
Still, he read.
A rope of hot blood whipped across the podium. It splashed all over his pages and some got on his face.
There is nothing going on, he thought, the world is perfect and I will still be paid for my art.
When he reached the last sentence a lump in his throat began to tighten and soon he stood there without speech. All he was left with was this horrible scene.
They were ravaging, all mad, surrounding him and their eyes told him that he will soon join them in this twisted circus.
Finish it. Just finish it.
He wiped the blood from his face with his tie.
He drank from his glass and set it down. After a deep breath he was able to pick up his place at the end.
There was no applause.
There have been worse cases in asylums.
Author: Lawrence Goodwin
