Mangled

By Zephyr Mang

Art by Pavlovforgoths.com

The trail lingered wherever she went. Tentacles skidding, the beast lurched forward. What once was a deer; now a disfigured and corrupted beast. The thick strand trailed behind her, leaving a path of putrid slime and decay. Pushing onward; bringing death to all that crossed it. No mind given to the plant and flesh matter that crossed it. A poor cat; mangled and torn to pieces. Its bones were spit out and sank into the newly created corroding mire. Yet another unfortunate soul. The beast continued on its path instinctively.  She looked down at the ground, hunched. A weighted, chaotic, mass of antlers had grown over her head. She once tried, but the beast couldn’t save them from themselves.

An unstable lifestyle; littered by the souls that have passed and those who’ve lost their minds. Friends lost; although who she once called close. Naively, she let them hurt her. She didn’t know any better. They met their fate from the life of excess they lived. The songs of the sirens mesmerized them. It felt as if it all happened a lifetime ago. 

What had started as a muse reared its ugly head. Then the days turned to years, having contributed nothing. Wandering aimlessly, caught up in thought. The serum had long corroded essential circuitry. Bonds ruined that could have lasted a lifetime. Selfishly squandered. It’s too much for some. A burden too great.

She stared at the murk of the lake far below, faces and figures emerged through the distortions of her vision; the remaining sliver of sentience in the back of the multilayered abomination watching in horror. In a rare moment of lucidity she grasped a decorated piece of scrap metal from a tiny leather sack, heaving it at the apparition. The abomination jolted suddenly, swaying her head around, confused. Where was she again? 

Something warm grew from within, an awareness, starting from the heart. As it began to spread, her muscles physically stiffened. The muscle fused into a clay-like substance and quickly hardened. A bright light emitted from the cracks of the cocoon. With the little amount of control she had, she pushed herself head first off the cliff into the lake. 

A glorious, bright purple celestial, humanoid figure arises, soaring far above. The potent reminder of the sting of the wasp gone, sinking in the abyss far below. No desire to dwell in the past, only the wind brushing against her. The songs of the sirens below become clearer, embracing their true messages. She eventually finds her place in a flock of multi-colored light beings.