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Tragedy of Resin

🇺🇸tektite
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Synopsis
Waking up in a pool of fresh warm blood, Heath is birthed into a broken shell that is himself.

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Chapter 1 - Welcome home

Warm. Foul, pleasant, nauseating warmth..... I.... I? I retch my arms away from the cold to feel the warmth on my face. What is this. Where am I? I don't understand- how can I not?.... I have nothing to draw on. Instead I search with my eyes. Dark. Absolute darkness. Faint squenching noise helps me identify that I am in a large space. I feel. Wet warmth embraces my clothes and trousers. Trousers, pocket? I let my hands flow into my soaked garments. I pull out what I 'know' is a lighter.

*Chik

*Chik

A flame dances up as I click it, giving me a general awareness on where I am. A hardwood floor covered in blood. A large glass window, no sliding glass door that leads to a dark foggy night. Around me are.... Corpses. Four corpses. A young male not even in his teens, with dirty blonde hair. A faceless girl with similar hair. Bloated rats are munching at her remains. They wearily glance at me before continuing.

The Last two. A beautiful woman with the same hair..... Along with a baby in her arms. I quickly get up and try to run the rats off. One brave fellow jumps at me and I kick it hard. The others scurry off dragging its companion by the tail. Quite the intellect. I hear it scream in the dark.... Perhaps they only.....

I examine the corpses. A family from what I presume. The woman should be in here thirties. The slightly eaten girl and the boy are her children or perhaps, close relatives? The baby is most likely her own as well. They all have their arms and ankles cut open. Sliced flesh glowing in a faint red. Deep gashes in their heads are visible as well.

The smell is overwhelming. I feel a weird euphoria as I take it in. There should be biological disgust here but, I love it. I dredge around in the blood. Its a beautiful scene. I want to see it in more if a glorified way. I search around under the flicker of my precious flame. This place appears to be a large kitchen area. I happen upon a few candles. Unfortunately they are scented, however, they will have to do. I spread them into a wonderful formation that I believe will illuminate and shadow the scene beautifully.

Oh is this truly how it is, huh? Still the lack of memory is starting to take prevalence in my mind. Am I a killer? I seem to have unnatural affection for some unsavory things. Is it only because I have no prior memories weigh me down with disgust? I do have some sense in a way though. I know this is awful. Terrible. How do I know these things?

I decide to learn of my surroundings. I pick up the metal handle that attaches to a platter on which a multi-colored fall smelling candle squats. Perhaps that's the season? That or the lady of the house loves fall.

I go down a hallway that reaches a living room.

I see few photos hanging on the walls. Mostly nick-nacks sitting on shelves. I see a wall shelf that has a few books. Fantasy books, historical, philosophical.... Ah, a photo album. I put it under my arm as I return to the scene of ascetically pleasing tragedy. I sit cross legged just on the rim of the blood pool. I begin.

A clear plastic covers a horde of photos. some happy, some of important events. Most are of the children. Sporting events. Some of schooling events? Unsure. Older fellows in some. Who is this one? Must be the father. Hmm.... He doesn't show up much in latter photos, and there is a different atmosphere that comes along with his absence. A sort of forced smiling.

Fake.

Beautiful.

I scratch my palm deeply in satisfaction for a long indeterminable amount of time until blood starts to pool in my hand. I lovingly feel my hands flow over a few bringing my own presence to its annoying covers.

I feel my heartbeat quicken at a brief thought. Who am I? Murderer? A thief who happened on this scene?.... Perhaps I'm the father?

I flip in the candle upside down into the blood and look into the shiny metallic of the candleholders bottom. I am the father.....

No.... Nononono..... Im not the father. The husband?

No that would only be possible if they were alive. Tears build up in my eyes. Why? I have no such memories of any happiness. Ah, like a sad movie perhaps.

"Gahhhh. No. Go down. Go away."

Heavy unpleasant nausea fills my throat. How could I have thought this scene was pleasant?!?! This- No!

*Blerrrrruuukk

I vomit into the blood revitalizing it and keeping it from drying out with new fluid. I fall over to my side and feel a million cold pins crawl up my arms to my cheeks.

"Ahhhhhhh!!! Take ahold! That's it! Its lovely! Absolutely beautiful. Don't soil it with gastric fluid, you retch."

I settle down as I sit back up. A glow starting to break through from the window. Bathing my world in a orange glow of brilliance from the glowing fog. The candles light being overshadowed by divine brilliance

This is the beauty I need. I grab and slide the door open giving me a burst of fresh air and direct light. Has the world better sights ahead. What lies behind is no good. It'll spoil, rot. A complicated sight that brings delight and stomach contents to the surface.

I bring my foot up and bring it through the perimeter of the door. Then, I appear onto a wooden porch with steps that lead down onto grass. Much beyond that view obscured in gold. An unpleasant feeling. I remove my attire. Caked in wet, now cold blood.

The fog awaits as I pace myself into it. Sights, sounds, smells. A wider variety than what I was forced to experience in that enclosed box of a house. Not as intense but, they fill me with a great determination. To carry on. With one foot in front of the other and soon Ill be someplace better, where I can experience better things.

No need to worry about the past. It will be gone. With that thought I find myself on a black pavement. Foot on asphalt. Newly painted yellow lines are-

*Boom

"Hell, what kind of idiot stands on the road in the middle of heavy fog!?!?"

*Bang

Hey, hey! Please be alive, I was only going 25! Phone! 991 I have an emergency-