Saturday, 20 March 2010
06:31:25 PM (GMT) I have a new account on DeviantART, find me. It's going to be
offensive writing, morbid. Fetishy. :c Soo. Anyways, one of my first pieces on the
new acc:
One of my most wonderful fantasies takes place in a prison, which stands up so high
that it reaches past those hovering black clouds which spiral around the auburn sky
in cliché values. The prison is layered brick, by brick, by brick; with painted red
numbers around each corner, and each odd patch of the building. 13, 9, 3, 81, 4,
17.
You enter through a tiny door right at the front which a boulder that is pulled away
with chains by weeping guards which is then pushed back with their wornout blacksmith I have a new account on DeviantART, find me. It's going to be
offensive writing, morbid. Fetishy. :c Soo. Anyways, one of my first pieces on the
new acc:
One of my most wonderful fantasies takes place in a prison, which stands up so high
that it reaches past those hovering black clouds which spiral around the auburn sky
in cliché values. The prison is layered brick, by brick, by brick; with painted red
numbers around each corner, and each odd patch of the building. 13, 9, 3, 81, 4,
17.
You enter through a tiny door right at the front which a boulder that is pulled away
with chains by weeping guards which is then pushed back with their wornout blacksmith
hands. You proceed to a chain of staircases, one leads to sector 11; this is the
killers section. You hear inviting jeers thrown at you to come take a visit, but
you're obviously not here for killers.
You hear a man sounding your voice, all he appears behind of you is a shadow in the
lighting, but you decide to follow. He leads you to a hallway which reads sector 13:
psychiatric appendix. You turn around but the door is closed, it's locked as you
rattle the handle. You walk slowly through the hallway; it gets darker per step so
you must choose your next actions carefully. Hands out of bars are reaching out
towards you, you have objects thrown at you, but you ignore them.
There's a light opening at the end of the hallway, as you move the walls around you
get darker but the opening stays as bright as daylight. You decide to run full speed
into the illuminated room, and as you turn around, it's the old trick again. The
doors are locked.
You turn back around, and you see yourself. Deeply relaxed. You finally take a deep
breath, and you open up your eyes. Visiting hours are over.
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