Mesmerizing Death
Well, this is an essay I wrote for a writing contest for 7th and 8th grade. I decided to upload just to get criticism and all that fun stuff. Yeah, yeah some of it sounds ALOT like Saw V 
“I am here to tell you a story. A story that’ll torture your thoughts by day and poison your dreams by night. And though I will do my best in the words that can be obtrusively written on canvas that can describe the stark, utter horror of the night that Annabel died, the Emptiness will haunt you.” -Curse Of The Virgin Canvas by Alesana
***
Have you ever thought of the worst death imaginable? Can you imagine a slow painful death, where you can’t do anything to escape? Say for example that you’re in a burning home’s attic and there’s no way to get out. You start crawling away from the fire but pretty soon it starts coming up close behind you. You’re now cornered, staring down the furious flames of that inferno. There’s running thoughts in your mind now, reminding you that in a few seconds it will swallow you, leaving nothing but ashes that were once you. Fire is possibly nature’s perfect murderer. It engulfs completely everything it reaches. The fire is now hitting your skin, making you attempt to scream but the smoke fills your lungs so you can’t. This is when you realize you will ultimately die now.
Your skin being slowly cremated, leaving you in distress. Then your flesh, all the way down to your bones. Your blood evaporating into raging, fiery oblivion. Your skin is gone now, along with some of your flesh. You’re literally inside out, all of your guts exposed onto the smoky air. Thick yellow liquid, sluggishly traveling down your pitiful remains. The foul stench of burning flesh lingering in the air. Such a perfectly putrid picture, wouldn’t you agree?
***
Another mesmerizing death would be one I gave thought about after I researched about the Salem Witch Trials. They occurred in the mid-1700s, where people started accusing women and some men of being witches. They were sent to trial and always lost. When they lost, they were usually sentenced to hang by the neck on the gallows.
Let’s make believe for a minute. Let’s say you were a “witch” and now you’re sentenced to the gallows. You’re standing in a line with a heavy wooden stock around your neck and arms, splintering you as you walk. The line is moving and you see those innocent people being hung. You were third one up and now it‘s your turn. As you walk up the fragile boards of the stairs, there’s most of the town as your audience. A masked man puts the rope around your neck. You’re sweating and your heart is beating so fast, you’re sure it’s going to burst any second. You start crying and then you realize you’re on the plank. 4. 3. 2. 1. The masked man pushes you off the plank.
The wind becomes faster as you get pushed and you let your mind slip into blankness. The short fall feels like an eternity for you. Then reality kicks in and the rope retains you from the neck. There’s a sudden taste of blood. The warm liquid starts dripping down your chin, contrasting with February’s bitter winter cold. The audience laughs cruelly and mercilessly at your helplessness. You try to close your eyes but your eyes are literally bulging out of their sockets. The blood, with its slight iron-like taste that was gushing from your mouth is being mixed with vomit now. The stink of it reaches you as your body dangles wildly in the steady pattern. Left. Your vision is fading, slowly creeping into eternal darkness. Right. Thoughts fade into the thin air. Left. Black engulfs the dying light. Right. You’re dead now.
Your body is left dangling. In that everlasting pattern. It’s as if you were made for the flies, now isn’t it? Your pathetic corpse is as cold as February’s ruthless air at this point. Nobody cares for you and you’re pity of a corpse will be left there to decompose
***
A method I find absolutely delightful (in a strange, twisted way) is torture. All kinds of physical torture that leads to death enthrall me. I guess that liking comes from that visit to Salem too. The way the human body can resist so much before it gives up is just fascinating. You know, human bodies aren’t made to be tortured or murdered because it‘s not natural, that’s why they can stand so much.
Let’s begin our little game, deary. You wake up with a huge headache. You don’t realize where you are until your eyes, which feel surprisingly tired, are able to look around. There isn’t much you’re able too see since there’s a small, dim light coming from what seems to be a pathetically sized window. There’s a pain coming from your wrists and ankles. There’s rope tying you to a wooden, old chair. It’s cutting off the circulation in your ankles and it’s tied so tight around your wrists that the skin is purpled and bleeding. There are footsteps behind you and your vision is taken by a blindfold. There’s a strange feeling as someone takes your hair and places it in some sort of machinery. The person starts turning the lever and it pulls your hair back. You start to feel the pain as the machine keeps pulling back. It keeps drawing back and you start feeling some warm liquid. It creeps down you forehead, onto your nose, into your mouth. Blood! The person is removing your scalp. You feel the extreme uncomfortableness of the humid, cool air on the exposed flesh. There’s a lot of blood now, the scent of blood is mixing with the moldy smell of what seems to be a basement or cellar. The person leaves you to pass out, but lest we forget; this isn’t over yet.
You are awakened by a hit to your exposed skull. Seems to be that now you’re tied on a table. Since the person woke you, it wants you to feel the pain. A sharp edge touches the edge of your temple. It starts going deep, penetrating the skin. You scream in terrible agony now but the person just ignores it. It likes hearing you in pain. “ARE YOU SUFFERING?!” it frantically whispers. You just keep screaming. It’s skinning you alive now and you just want to die. The pain is too much. Your face, or at least the skins of it, is now in its hands. It giggles a bit and brings the cut up face to its own and places it as if it was a mask. Now the razor creeps down to your neck and across your shoulders. It just keeps peeling the skin until it gets to above your waist. You can’t scream anymore, for your throat is giving up now.
A different kind of sharp object, perhaps scissors, are cutting into your tummy. There’s a hole, which at this point is widening. It puts its hand in the incision and pulls out your intestines with a fast jerk. It was as every possible breath you could’ve had was just forced from you, but you still wouldn’t die!
The person was getting tired of how long this game had gone on for. The clammy hand crept under your ribs, reaching for your heart. It kept getting stuck in the veins and tissues so it decided to just use a knife. It got to your heart surprisingly fast. Your thoughts were muddy now, but still understandable although nonsensical. You froze suddenly. Needless to say, it had taken your heart….
***
Another one of my morbid muses was Edgar Allen Poe. It fascinated me the way he wrote about being buried alive. Can you imagine what it must feel like to be buried while still fully conscious? Your sense of panic is dramatically heightened and the desperation. Lets imagine that’s you, the ever-so-unfortunate person in the coffin that’s 6 feet under the ground.
This time you're awakened by the soft tapping of dirt leaking from the spaces between the ever seen in your life. You start panting rapidly, not noticing where you are yet. Your sweaty hands grope your surrounding and you start to grasp the fact that you’re trapped in this miserable coffin. The crude, rough edges contrasting against your skin, leaving stinging, tiny, red lines of blood all throughout your vulnerable fingers. You let out a soft yelp which was totally in vain since no one can hear you now. There are tiny bugs creeping on the rugged boards, the faint pattering of them altering your few calm thoughts, distorting your breaths. The reduced space is gradually becoming warm. You start feeling your breathing ricochet back to your face. Seems to be you still don’t realize that you’re wasting your oxygen. The measly space starts feeling surprisingly reduced. What’s going on?
The heated darkness seems to be consuming you. You shut your eyes, the panic shackles your emotions. Tear drip down your face, you start to let out frantic sobs, becoming piercing screeches. Its suddenly becoming much harder to breath. Sweat slithers precipitously down your face and body. Your heart beat seems to be increasing quite rapidly, your eyes run across the obscurity in hopeless search of something besides the seemingly infinite blackness. You stop inhaling since you now know oxygen is running out. But how long will it be before you need to breathe again? Your lungs implore for air but your common sense denies it. You keep trying to conserve the little oxygen you have, but you’re giving in. Your system forces you to breathe and you end up taking big gulps of air. Then, you start feeling faint after a while. All your senses blur into an abstract portrait of panic, anxiety, and fear. Your eyes seem to weld shut. There seems to be a pressure on your chest, your lungs are about to give up, you know the end of this is near. Then everything in your head starts frantically fading, leaving an immense, almost unbearable soreness. Your senses go from the blurring scene to darkness as black as your surroundings. Your body seems to become lighter, like a plume. This wasn’t such a bad way to go. Dead end.
“I am here to tell you a story. A story that’ll torture your thoughts by day and poison your dreams by night. And though I will do my best in the words that can be obtrusively written on canvas that can describe the stark, utter horror of the night that Annabel died, the Emptiness will haunt you.” -Curse Of The Virgin Canvas by Alesana
***
Have you ever thought of the worst death imaginable? Can you imagine a slow painful death, where you can’t do anything to escape? Say for example that you’re in a burning home’s attic and there’s no way to get out. You start crawling away from the fire but pretty soon it starts coming up close behind you. You’re now cornered, staring down the furious flames of that inferno. There’s running thoughts in your mind now, reminding you that in a few seconds it will swallow you, leaving nothing but ashes that were once you. Fire is possibly nature’s perfect murderer. It engulfs completely everything it reaches. The fire is now hitting your skin, making you attempt to scream but the smoke fills your lungs so you can’t. This is when you realize you will ultimately die now.
Your skin being slowly cremated, leaving you in distress. Then your flesh, all the way down to your bones. Your blood evaporating into raging, fiery oblivion. Your skin is gone now, along with some of your flesh. You’re literally inside out, all of your guts exposed onto the smoky air. Thick yellow liquid, sluggishly traveling down your pitiful remains. The foul stench of burning flesh lingering in the air. Such a perfectly putrid picture, wouldn’t you agree?
***
Another mesmerizing death would be one I gave thought about after I researched about the Salem Witch Trials. They occurred in the mid-1700s, where people started accusing women and some men of being witches. They were sent to trial and always lost. When they lost, they were usually sentenced to hang by the neck on the gallows.
Let’s make believe for a minute. Let’s say you were a “witch” and now you’re sentenced to the gallows. You’re standing in a line with a heavy wooden stock around your neck and arms, splintering you as you walk. The line is moving and you see those innocent people being hung. You were third one up and now it‘s your turn. As you walk up the fragile boards of the stairs, there’s most of the town as your audience. A masked man puts the rope around your neck. You’re sweating and your heart is beating so fast, you’re sure it’s going to burst any second. You start crying and then you realize you’re on the plank. 4. 3. 2. 1. The masked man pushes you off the plank.
The wind becomes faster as you get pushed and you let your mind slip into blankness. The short fall feels like an eternity for you. Then reality kicks in and the rope retains you from the neck. There’s a sudden taste of blood. The warm liquid starts dripping down your chin, contrasting with February’s bitter winter cold. The audience laughs cruelly and mercilessly at your helplessness. You try to close your eyes but your eyes are literally bulging out of their sockets. The blood, with its slight iron-like taste that was gushing from your mouth is being mixed with vomit now. The stink of it reaches you as your body dangles wildly in the steady pattern. Left. Your vision is fading, slowly creeping into eternal darkness. Right. Thoughts fade into the thin air. Left. Black engulfs the dying light. Right. You’re dead now.
Your body is left dangling. In that everlasting pattern. It’s as if you were made for the flies, now isn’t it? Your pathetic corpse is as cold as February’s ruthless air at this point. Nobody cares for you and you’re pity of a corpse will be left there to decompose
***
A method I find absolutely delightful (in a strange, twisted way) is torture. All kinds of physical torture that leads to death enthrall me. I guess that liking comes from that visit to Salem too. The way the human body can resist so much before it gives up is just fascinating. You know, human bodies aren’t made to be tortured or murdered because it‘s not natural, that’s why they can stand so much.
Let’s begin our little game, deary. You wake up with a huge headache. You don’t realize where you are until your eyes, which feel surprisingly tired, are able to look around. There isn’t much you’re able too see since there’s a small, dim light coming from what seems to be a pathetically sized window. There’s a pain coming from your wrists and ankles. There’s rope tying you to a wooden, old chair. It’s cutting off the circulation in your ankles and it’s tied so tight around your wrists that the skin is purpled and bleeding. There are footsteps behind you and your vision is taken by a blindfold. There’s a strange feeling as someone takes your hair and places it in some sort of machinery. The person starts turning the lever and it pulls your hair back. You start to feel the pain as the machine keeps pulling back. It keeps drawing back and you start feeling some warm liquid. It creeps down you forehead, onto your nose, into your mouth. Blood! The person is removing your scalp. You feel the extreme uncomfortableness of the humid, cool air on the exposed flesh. There’s a lot of blood now, the scent of blood is mixing with the moldy smell of what seems to be a basement or cellar. The person leaves you to pass out, but lest we forget; this isn’t over yet.
You are awakened by a hit to your exposed skull. Seems to be that now you’re tied on a table. Since the person woke you, it wants you to feel the pain. A sharp edge touches the edge of your temple. It starts going deep, penetrating the skin. You scream in terrible agony now but the person just ignores it. It likes hearing you in pain. “ARE YOU SUFFERING?!” it frantically whispers. You just keep screaming. It’s skinning you alive now and you just want to die. The pain is too much. Your face, or at least the skins of it, is now in its hands. It giggles a bit and brings the cut up face to its own and places it as if it was a mask. Now the razor creeps down to your neck and across your shoulders. It just keeps peeling the skin until it gets to above your waist. You can’t scream anymore, for your throat is giving up now.
A different kind of sharp object, perhaps scissors, are cutting into your tummy. There’s a hole, which at this point is widening. It puts its hand in the incision and pulls out your intestines with a fast jerk. It was as every possible breath you could’ve had was just forced from you, but you still wouldn’t die!
The person was getting tired of how long this game had gone on for. The clammy hand crept under your ribs, reaching for your heart. It kept getting stuck in the veins and tissues so it decided to just use a knife. It got to your heart surprisingly fast. Your thoughts were muddy now, but still understandable although nonsensical. You froze suddenly. Needless to say, it had taken your heart….
***
Another one of my morbid muses was Edgar Allen Poe. It fascinated me the way he wrote about being buried alive. Can you imagine what it must feel like to be buried while still fully conscious? Your sense of panic is dramatically heightened and the desperation. Lets imagine that’s you, the ever-so-unfortunate person in the coffin that’s 6 feet under the ground.
This time you're awakened by the soft tapping of dirt leaking from the spaces between the ever seen in your life. You start panting rapidly, not noticing where you are yet. Your sweaty hands grope your surrounding and you start to grasp the fact that you’re trapped in this miserable coffin. The crude, rough edges contrasting against your skin, leaving stinging, tiny, red lines of blood all throughout your vulnerable fingers. You let out a soft yelp which was totally in vain since no one can hear you now. There are tiny bugs creeping on the rugged boards, the faint pattering of them altering your few calm thoughts, distorting your breaths. The reduced space is gradually becoming warm. You start feeling your breathing ricochet back to your face. Seems to be you still don’t realize that you’re wasting your oxygen. The measly space starts feeling surprisingly reduced. What’s going on?
The heated darkness seems to be consuming you. You shut your eyes, the panic shackles your emotions. Tear drip down your face, you start to let out frantic sobs, becoming piercing screeches. Its suddenly becoming much harder to breath. Sweat slithers precipitously down your face and body. Your heart beat seems to be increasing quite rapidly, your eyes run across the obscurity in hopeless search of something besides the seemingly infinite blackness. You stop inhaling since you now know oxygen is running out. But how long will it be before you need to breathe again? Your lungs implore for air but your common sense denies it. You keep trying to conserve the little oxygen you have, but you’re giving in. Your system forces you to breathe and you end up taking big gulps of air. Then, you start feeling faint after a while. All your senses blur into an abstract portrait of panic, anxiety, and fear. Your eyes seem to weld shut. There seems to be a pressure on your chest, your lungs are about to give up, you know the end of this is near. Then everything in your head starts frantically fading, leaving an immense, almost unbearable soreness. Your senses go from the blurring scene to darkness as black as your surroundings. Your body seems to become lighter, like a plume. This wasn’t such a bad way to go. Dead end.
I won 2nd place >.>
The Rev., June 10th, 2010 at 07:44:59pm
This scared the living hell out of me.
If you don't win, I'll seriously punch whoever beat you XD
Batman., May 31st, 2010 at 08:12:17pm
....I really hope you won that contest. This is...disturbing, but amazing.
good blog (y)!
Yay!, May 29th, 2010 at 06:30:13am
This is really messed up. But I like it.
Good blog. :)
padfoot, May 28th, 2010 at 12:55:08pm