The battle against the ick is coming.
The ick is everywhere, spreading its goop and devouring the souls of the damned.
The ick beast is having its feast.
It consumes and dooms until there is no more room.
Only dark despair and no light to spare.
The end is nigh as the tide is high.
Time and terror clash.
The oracles are blind.
The tick of the clock has stopped,
The wave of the goo has dropped.
It is the end.
The end of time.
The end of light.
Then end of life.
Unless the damned can survive,
Black as ink, a void of a mass is on the floor. It’s absorbing all the light and devouring it to nothing. It covers the wood floor of the small bedroom in one corner. The slimy goo is spreading, moving, alive, breathing as it slides across the ground. It creeps closer and closer to the figure sitting at a desk.
The girl, Ellie-Mae, sitting at the desk is unaware of the ick crawling towards her. She can’t hear the eerie shlck shlck shlck it makes because she is lost in the music coming from her earbuds. Only her face and notebook on the worn, navy blue desk are lit up by a small flashlight. The rest of the room is getting dimmer, more lightless, as the icky sludge gets closer and larger.
It reaches the base of Ellie’s chair, pooling around the legs. Then, ever so slowly it starts crawling up them. It’s engulfing the chair legs until the wood can’t be seen. It touches the seat of the chair continuing to spread its nasty goop. The ick reaches forward, brushing the girl’s side.
She flinches, not expecting anything to touch her. She looks to see what touched her and is standing in a split second, earbuds falling to the floor. Now her lower back is pushed against the desk, hands gripping the edge so hard her knuckles are white. Wide eyed, mouth agape, and shocked, she stares. It just keeps moving to completely cover the chair. It turns into a blob of inky black ick.
Ellie-Mae starts breathing heavy and faster as she slowly looks at her side. It’s still sticky for where the ick touched her. Where she was contaminated by the goo is shifting on her clothes. The little spot of stickiness is spreading, crossing her abdomen. Ellie blinks.
“AHHHHH!” she screams, and bolts from the room.
The bathroom is downstairs; an entire flight of stairs with no lights. And no one else is in the house. Alone. Utterly alone with an oily monster blob. She’s regretting her choice to visit her favorite abandoned house tonight. Ellie’s place of solitude has turned into a horror show.
The girl runs as fast as she can down the stairs. She slips down the last few steps, throwing her arms out to catch herself against the walls. There’s no stopping though as she heads straight to the bathroom.
The cabinets are bare, except for some old towels. Ellie tries using them to rub the goo off her shirt, scraping and scrubbing as hard as she can, but it’s not doing anything. The ick won’t go away. The exact opposite in fact. It’s spreading even more. Her middle is encircled and its starting to slither down her hip and lower to her leg.
Her panicking has increased. She’s whimpering, lip trembling, hands shaking, and on the verge of tears. Through her mind is racing a thousand terror driven thoughts. How to get the goo off? What the frick is even happening? Is she going to make it home? The memories with Lee, her best friend. Her family and all of their time together, good and bad.
The goo has traveled further now. It’s spilled out of the upstairs room, down the stairs, and towards the bathroom. It’s creeping in the doorway now and grabbing at the doorframe. The shLCK shLCK shLCK is getting louder as the ick is getting bigger.
Ellie-Mae is terrified as she sees it. The ink black mass is rising, reaching the height of her. She lets out a blood curdling scream, but it’s cut short. The ick in front of her has moved forward, meeting with the goo on her body. She gasps as it grips her and lifts her, feet no longer touching the ground. It covers her middle up to her neck, down to her calves, and out to her elbows.
Her mind goes blank. Not a single thought of any manner. Her senses go calm. No more fretting and trembling. No more sheer and blind terror. No thoughts, feelings, emotions, only a blank emptiness.
As the ick continues to move across her body, it’s deliberately not covering her face, only trailing up the sides. It’s acting like a conscious being with a purpose. It knows exactly where it’s going. The sticky path it’s making has moved into Ellie’s ears now and she twitches for a few seconds before going still again.
Her veins are getting more noticeable. They’re as black as the goo around her, only muted by her skin. All her veins are changing. On her legs, arms, neck, and face. It doesn’t stop there. Her eyes are changing too. They were a pale, the palest of pale, blue, but now they are completely black. Not even the whites remain. They look like black holes that could be fallen into if stared at for too long.
The ick separates on the floor, clearing a spot so the tile can be seen. It steadily sets Ellie-Mae on the clean part of the ground. Her feet softly land and the goo recedes from her body but leaves a sticky residue imprint. Ellie stands tall, tilts her neck slightly to the left, and gives a toothy smirk.
She walks out of the bathroom towards the front door, leaving inky black footsteps. The black ick follows her, still moving like it’s breathing. Ellie reaches the falling apart door and throws it open. It splinters with the force. She treks down the walkway to the street and turns to stride down the middle of it. The icky goo is right behind her, the glow from the streetlights making it look slick and shiny.
In a voice dripping with malice Ellie-Mae says,” This is going to be fun.”
What’s In My Head
"I may look like I'm not doing anything, but I'm quite busy problem-solving, being creative, or just in my head with about 30 tabs open."
In my reality nobody is supposed to be outspoken, emotional, or expressive of their individuality. Why? Because there’s a part of our population that is different. We feel deeper and stronger and urge to show that we are unique. It’s not easy to hide because we have one thing in common: our purple eyes. With our varying shades and hues, we are called the Austere. Many of us wear contact lenses, but that doesn’t always stop us from being recognized. I was found out and now is my time to pay the price.
I look down at the cavern gaping open below my feet. The walls are a combination of dusty brown rock and rusted metal. It’s black and endless inside. My nerves are surprisingly calm, the beat of my heart flowing steadily in my veins. I take a step forward, nearing closer to the edge of the cavern, and some rubble stumbles off the side. After a few bounces off the cavern wall I can’t see the pebbles anymore. They’ve disappeared into the deep expanse.
Shuffling feet are behind me, giddy with excitement. The bodies are packed shoulder to shoulder to see the outcast, truly outcast. They are all waiting for me to be pushed over the edge, and then to be forgotten. Being shunned for being different wasn't enough. They've marked me with the symbol of exile by forcing me to wear a pure black cloak, and now I have to take the final step.
I look over my shoulder and everyone’s eyes refuse to meet mine, except one. Piercing purple eyes, as bright as amethyst, hidden under brown contact lenses. She looks at me with a blank stare, but I know what’s hidden behind that emotionless face. A well of intensity I can feel, pushed down and concealed from every other person surrounding her.
I failed to hide my forbidden feelings like she could, and now it’s time let it free. My gaze returns to my bare feet and the open space in front of me. I close my own violet purple eyes, take a breathe, and step off the rim of life.
As the ground below disappears I let my breathe escape me, accepting the abyss to swallow me. But I don’t feel or hear wind rushing past my ears. Instead I hear murmurs, voices starting to scream, and shuffling feet once again.
When I open my eyes I’m looking at her, and her eyes are wide open. I look down and the cavern is wholly beneath me, empty. I’m not at the bottom of the cavern like I should be. I’m floating above it, all the weight gone. I was suppressed for too long, forced to be someone I’m not, and now I’m empty. My fate was not to die in the abyss, because I am the abyss.