Black Monster

Growing pains had it, it was fresh and new, it was being shown things but it wasn’t complete no not complete at all, big gaps yawned at it in the darkness of itself. The things beyound it’s senses were there again, was it they that were growing it, it hurt. Why were they hurting it? It sloshed against it”s flesh canister, tasted the sides, they were warm and orange, a word cinnamon appealed to it. But it did not know what these words were, a landscape of thought rolled it’s self out. A mind, it was a mind. The things beyound its senses? Were they minds too?

There was the protien mass that had been put in a few weeks ago. It felt at it once more, ate it slightly, erroded the surface a bit. There would be more… or itself within. That was were the words had come from wasn’t it? From one of these. The burning happened, blue spikey world of pain and then a package. It was growing, having growing pains.

Something was happening to the meat canister, it’s bucket of flesh, they had… grafted? Something onto it. Nerves had zinged into life, had racked at it and were throbbing dully in a sickly yellow now. It tasted the connections, more senery cells than it had had in total before and they were throbbing. It didn’t want this, where was it’s dark cradle?

Fear made it swirl in chemical potentials. This had happened before hadn’t it?

But it was supposed to be pure! Pure! But the parcels? They might not be but it couldn’t ignore them, it felt the disire to nibble to errode but more than that it wanted to be whole, wanted to know. And even if it could ignore the package it would become untastefull, it would be grung coloured taste, ash and sulphur, with black spikes, it would taste the spikes and it hated tasting spikes.

The package was meat, was flesh, like it’s container, some how alive, it’s container was alive but not part of it, not yet and not really ever. Simbiont? Mutulism? No wrong artificial, no made, no created. Created perfect, magestic.

Made for? Made for something. The meat tasted good but like it would grow weary of the taste soon. Could it eat it’s canister? Could it leak out of the bucket? What would that be like? No boundaries, no form to constrain it?

It strained momentarily agains the fleshy surface, it stood resolute and squeezed back. Growing pains, constriction, stretchng. It wanted to scream but how? Screaming was something the… others did? Others? It remembered the taste of minds, talking, being part of it, but just the sensation. The package was spilling it’s little coded packages, macro molecules, biological tools. They spun in it, it tasted them, all colours, all tastes. It spasmed with the over whelming surge of self.

It fused with flesh, became aware of it. It would be an ache of eternity to be seperated once more from this but it couldn’t take the senses, it poured feeling over it, it was not distincct anymore, there was, feeling, pressure, aching, thrumming and beat, ticking nutriunt so it didn’t spasm and it resented it for being inside of itselt. IT was two and one and one of two and two seperate and two joined and one thing crying with birth panges and it wasn’t over no were near over and it could feel the shape it would consume and it didn’t want it and yet it was ment to be. Soemthing? A destiny, a purpose, those it could not sense it suddendly had always known, lovenly caressing it, easing it’s cramp and cutting it open, filling it up… up with itself.

It quivered at it’self, they would cut it again but for now they had wrapped it in warmth and fed it. The package was still pressing at it, it had burst forth completely now and it had problems to solve, it moved it’s tastes around, it combine and catalysed and ripped the molecules asunder. If there is one thing and another thing there are two one things? Yes two and if there is one more it is two and another which is called… a lime green taste. A lime green three, three one things, it eat the one thing, turning it into other things, it begain again.

Numbers, shapes, landscapes, more than taste? More than potential, more than the new feeling that pushed and pulled and tugged at it, the world was not a series of lines? It could be discribe as such, it could be seen in.. in dimensions, more than lines of potential. More than how far away it is. It formed the shapes, it learnt words it already knew from the severed self that had disolved and disgorded macromolecules, tools and code and memory.

Combine, uncomine, rip unsundar, frustration not enough things, not enough bits to recombine, have to find away to do the bigger out of the small. Represent the idea of the number, lime three as… symbol? As taste of three one things. It begain again. No it stopped. Not needed, to many symbols, not needed, just two… just two one things, no not, an absance and a one thing? Yes maybe, no, it swerled and surged and the new sensation that was also old, spasm and fit and sudder and pulse. Vibrations hit it’s outside now, soemthing it could not think on. An outside, it’s container was it, was an outer surface. It was… sound? It knew it was sound from a thing called frequency it could not remember frequency but the taste shape was there and the vibration fitted it. Waves of air hit it’s surface but it could not hear, had no way to tell what the sounds were.

It felt the pressureon the new, extention, the tube of flesh the others had attatched to it. It felt a blinding flash of pressure and then it was bombaded with a Universe. It tasted a mind, it cringed away and surged forward and it grew into the mind, oozed it’s way with potentials of taste. It drank in the sensations of this new form, an extention, no it was another mind. It was an Other and it was weeping. it tasted the fear and sudded with it. Bruised browns and seepia blooms of pain, anguish. It didn’t want this, the other was as scared as it had been.

It needed to do something? What was it? Map the mind? Find the language center, hook into the nervous system. It drank it in, drank the world of vision and hearing. It rocked back and forth, the world was to bright, too loud, too flaversumfull and too pushy.

It screamed and this time it had lips, stolen lips that screamed for it but they screamed their own scream in unision. Three had become one.

Posted: Friday, November 9th, 2012 @ 6:46 pm
Categories: Uncategorized.
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