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A Poetic Fallacy

A Poetic Fallacy

🇬🇧DragonicRapture
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Synopsis
To you, as a reader, What is true Horror? Do you feel any authentic, 'real' fear when watching or reading a frightening moment? No matter how well an author paints a vivid image in your imagination, You will always be protected by the abysmal veil of being 'just an observer'. No matter how fast you run away from a dark room to under the cover of your blanket. No matter how 'afraid' you are , you will always remind yourself that the scary movie you have watched or the scary book you have just read are all just make-believe, a part of your imagination, 'FAKE'. No matter how 'immersed' you are, you will always know, in the depths of your psyche and the very crevices of your mind that it was all , just 'fake'. So. What happens when you tear down that wall between you and your imagination. When you RIP off that veil of protection? When you step into the role of the protagonist, will you bask in the adrenaline born from the desire to survive? Or will you succumb to the very weight of your cowardice and disappear into nothing but only a lost and found poster, the subject of a police investigation or just a grief filled albeit fleeting memory?

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Chapter 1 - A Morning like any other.

There it was. The same accursed corpse lay in front of me. Its face lays up towards the ceiling and its eyes, open, still devoid of any emotion , not like it could have any as I presume it is dead and we all know the dead cannot feel. The skin of the corpse was a deathly pale , my own pun causes an incessant laughter to erupt from the very depths of my stomach and ring through the empty room that both it and I were in. The same old room, the same old corpse and the same old me. Well, I tell a lie. The corpse seemed different from the many times I had seen it in the past. I could make out the defining features of it more clearly now. The corpse, donned with the same beautiful and Emerald-like dress, had a face devoid of any wrinkles or rot and maggots nor the larvae from which the maggots hatch from. The nose was slightly curved upwards , and the lips were blood red. Her pupils were an abyss of black that seemed to just capture the soul. Her slightly chubby cheeks gave her an innocent appearance in contrast to her mature beauty. She wasn't a very tall girl as she looked to be about 5ft 6 in contrast to my 5ft 11. However, by the common standards of today, she could still be said to be beautiful. As I was further entranced in evaluating the features of this girl's face, something happened. She, no, It. It had shocked me to my core. I could feel a surge of adrenaline course through my veins as my body began heating up. My head faced an unbearable pressure and feeling of distress. I started to walk backwards but I was slow, very slow. My movements felt restricted as if I was under water. The room now rang with not my laughter, but now my heartbeat. The lack of any ambient noise further amplified the sound of my heartbeat. *Thud* *Thud*, *Thud* *Thud*. To me it seemed as though my heart beat constantly became louder. *THUD* *THUD* *THUD* THUD*. No matter how hard I tried, my eyes still eventually drifted back to the corpse.

*THUD* *THUD* THUD* *THUD* *THUD* THUD* THUD* *THUD* *THUD* THUD* THUD* *THUD* *THUD* THUD* THUD* *THUD* *THUD* THUD* THUD* *THUD* *THUD* THUD* THUD* *THUD*

My eyes started to shake and as I thought that this form of purgatory would not end. Everything stopped. The beating of my heart was replaced with the damned noise of the alarm. When had I set the alarm to 3:32 AM? I thought to my self. Maybe I should be happy? At least I am awake. No that does not sound right. At least I am alive.

I still remmeber what it did. The corpse that had been staring at the ceiling for hours , THE CORPSE THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD. Looked at me, and blinked.