nergfoogle – random fiction (no title)

ChairWhat’s it like to die 1000 times you ask?

It hurts, it hurts a lot. Dying really sucks, and I do not recommend it for anybody. I’d have to say that on my list of things, I really do not like. Dying covers the first four spots. It’s not much fun feeling the searing heat of a bullet cracking open your skull, ripping through your frontal cortex and taking half of your brain with it, as it exits the back of your head. Or feeling the skin on your back separate as the lash of a whip comes down on it more times than you can count. Who can like the thoughts that race through your mind, as your airway has been chocked closed, and your eyes roll to the back of your head, while you are fighting for the relief of a single, solitary breath…. That never comes.

I have been shot, stabbed, strangled, skinned, blown up, burned, decapitated, and even dismembered one appendage at a time. Oh and let’s not forget the time I was forced to drink all that milk and then made to jump, stomach first, on a bed of spikes. That one was actually pretty cool to see… Even if it was me lying there bleeding out 16 gallons of milk from 50 different holes. But no matter how many times, and how many different ways they invent to kill me… I always wake up as if nothing happened. Such is my lot in life I guess.

Now before we go any further, I’m sure you have a few questions…. So here are a few answers.

1. No, I am not a super hero. I’m just a normal guy that likes the NFL, pizza, and the group Loverboy. When this all started, I really wasn’t in that great of shape. I had a slight case of asthma and could barely lift 50lbs over my head. I wasn’t even that good looking. Which, I guess isn’t that important of a detail. But I wanted to get that slicked back hair, chiseled chin, Superman image out of your head. Think more of the 98lbs weakling with bad hair and a slight acne problem.

2. No, I do not have a death wish; actually just the opposite. I like life, and wish to continue mine. Life is fun, and you get to do all sorts of really great things during it. Life is where I got to see my first Styx concert; have my first kiss…. With a girl!  And where I got my first boner watching scrambled porn. I really want to continue on with my life to see what other wonderful things are to come.  That is possibly the reason why I have not died yet.

3. I’m in Hell. Not the metaphorical meaning of the word. “Oh pity me, I’ve died 1000 times and my life is hell (Boo Hoo)”. No, I mean… I’m in Hell; THE REAL HELL.  You know, fire and brimstone, a big evil guy called the Devil roaming the blood stoked halls of endless corridors looking for new souls to snatch…. Hell. Yup, that is the real Hell… The bible pretty much nailed it.

How did I get here you ask? Well, to start off, I’m not a bad person; just the opposite actually. I’m a pretty clean cut kid, that doesn’t get into much trouble. I’m pretty good with my parents, even though they can be douches at time. I go to church (when mom makes me). I haven’t murdered anybody or committed genocide. Oh that reminds me, I did meet Hitler while I was down here. Speaking of a douche; the guy gets so pissed off when you don’t cower in fear when he enters the room. He stomps around shouting shit in German, expecting everyone to just stop what they are doing and praise him for being this big shot evil dude. The first few times I met him, I have to admit, I was a little intimidate… I mean it was Hitler for Christ sake. But, after a while, you got to see what a real clown this douche was; and without his army to back him up, he’s nothing more than a loud mouth racist that cannot get it up, unless you stick a riding crop up his asshole.  So after a while I just stopped giving a shit about his presence, and have had to let him know a number of times, that I don’t really care for his shit. Even in Hell, some of us just don’t like racist.   Actually, if the guys back home could have seen me telling Hitler to “Shut the fuck up”, to his face, they would have probably crapped their pants.

Oh yeah, I’m 14. Well, that is how old I was when I was taken. Or how old I am now… at this present… What I mean is; I was 14 at the time I was first abducted, and will always be 14 in a sense… But I have been other ages also. I’ve been 21… (Woo Hoo got my first legal beer), and 37 (That was a good trip), I’ve even been 967… and still had all my hair!!!  Time does not really mean much here. I was originally taken in 1982 (Why the hell else would I say I liked Loverboy). But I have surfaced in the 1800’s, the 1960’s, I believe the furthest out I have been was 4723. Want to know who won the Super Bowl that year…? Or is there even human life then… human as you understand it.

When the heck am I even writing this now….? It’s 2013??? Oh, crap, you folks have a lot of shit to go through soon. Tell me; is New York still above water??? I jest…. Or am I?

Oh, and I’m a virgin…. That is the REAL reason I’m still alive.

I can see you are getting that “Deer in the head lights” look on your face, meaning you are confused. So let me start from the beginning.

Hello, my name is Timothy, and I am in love…

To be continued… (If you all don’t think this sucks)