Mute, hung the valves from its cemented ceiling; It's knob cranked with a decibel of metal shriek.
Rained, with its acidic glow - the echo liberated his sigh; the flashing of pin-needle teeth that tear flesh from about the mouth, of him. The repercussion caught by her ears, and eyes that open to liquidation.
She sits in this room with no awareness of how; It is not where she then slept - to fall asleep for. Flooring water molded black with a shine, uninfected, yet putrid. It's coldness stung. The cement walls were guided with decay, a stain of burnt smeared, like ash to encrypt it. To turn, at the backside and view a stair case, meant for her escaping; the door that sits up top to leave through, she stands so abruptly her feet glide through two inch depth of blackened water, sliding - tripping. She takes the steps up quickly and gathers the edge of a fifth step down to the door; fell hard with a shatter to teeth from jawline impact.
She hears a metal grind with a drop into the water from her fall; an object. She peers to look, there it sits on the stair she landed from. To hear it fall yet there it lays, the oddity. A strange contraption it had been, the object she glares at with blood flow from ridges of her mouth; her head to rest the stair. Held the object in its uneasy form, and thought to exert a throw, where it lands again in the rot that lays below. She waits; for its re-appearance to surface.
Terrified, she draws back at the hand that presses the contraption again onto her stair. Its elongated hands, of pure - whiteness of paleness - slender. Tips that shape to sharp leaving a drawback of its monstrous hand to flare sparks at its tips to drag the stair's cement. Rest again on this stair, her contraption that laid circular in appearance, with thin of metal wires, in the grasp of a cuff.
Her sight became distraught to the vanquishing of the doorway that once laid up top the case, a solid wall of cement encrypted formerly to all walls. She is not alone - she knows. She collects what of herself is not shattered, to feel the reality that disappeared making attention that the ceiling consist thereof an alienistic contraption in its full length assumingly made for death; Its danger being electrical where water crept below.
She steps downward again, exertion to a second throwing - the object to land at a far distance of her stair case. She waits for this creature of being to retrieve it, in which she views nothing, but the elongated hand to reappear suddenly so again returning the device to her. How in its retrieval was it not seen, where she studied the object so harshly, and yet here this creature holds the device upon her stair again. She peaks, dragging herself slowly to the stair's ridge and there lies an open doorway under her in the case, A flow of blackened smoke to linger - steaming from the opening of the doorway.
She caught glimpse of a figure's monstrous outline that stood in the darkness to the opening. Thought of could she dare, bring herself to a courageous act in escaping past this being. She crept down the stairs and finds herself glaring face to face at the door that may be her escape and in a sudden, the wall begins to fade the doorway closed; She rushes to stop its disappearance, placing the contraption on her left wrist, but stunned at the sound of a clamor to flesh and metal wire;
Quickened pain that drains from her wrist, drops to mixturize with the putridity of water; She stood - desolated of emotion and thought. The ceiling drops - impulsively for her to give a last scream to echo her cellar, in which she was kept.
Mute, hung the valves again from its cemented ceiling; It's knob cranked with a decibel of metal shriek. the echo liberated his sigh; the flashing of pin-needle teeth that tear flesh from about the mouth, of him.
______________________________
Sound sub-dued, beyond its twinning; The ridges of legs that glided across its thread of silk, spindling downward from the
ceiling. It's body glistens for its silhouette; the perk of blue to sharpen the dark surrounding it.
The spider glided more closely, from above her face. The dark of the room, and directed stimuli to distant sensory
deprivation; It's legs lightly slung its webbing, heightened sound like glass scraping metal shards - how it echos in the internally.
The liquidation peels from him, onto each inch of thread that is shown, moving closer downward; It's whiteness gleams.
Tainted light does not dim it.
The atmosphere is damp, It's sound is damper.
He is large, a ball of fist to compare. Though he hangs, above by small portion and simply swindles there.
She could not be more sedate with an old friend again; He is charming this way.
The conscious flashes the memory;
Books; various of them lined to a high shelving. Old and withered; though sacred and purposeful.
Movement, the many rows there are - books.
They whisper, four of them; Huddled tightly.
Young children, these boys.
He hangs in reach, a hand lifted, he grips the fingers with the elongated of legs.
Twirl him; amuse him; amuse her.
A silhouette, to this child, young and frail.
The slow of a shadow passing these books, hands extended to touch as each book passes by.
They follow, the four shadings, quickly aligned after each other.
His name echos the hallways that have deadened
"Vahtasyr",
Twirl him harder, harsher; Defenselessly. Deep sigh exhales, it can't be helped.
The blurs approach from the distance, sought over his shoulder closened.
A calling of his name again; he turns, and a blur is cast forth scornfully.
Thrown, it's body shapes and molds.
Mid-air it perches, coils in that of a snake, for a snake it is.
Its blackness to gleam tinting of blue, and the malevolence shown through crisped green of eyes;
It's diamond chiseling, vicious skull.
The hiss that escapes, like a high frequency of pitches that can not be humanly condoned.
Reflex throws the hand upward to crush, the spider breaks and pours its black liquidation;
Its body impacted like bones crumbled.
Remains to dangle, the black fluid worn and seeps the flesh like mixture.
She leaves from the bed, and its remains gone to blackened smoke that trails her movement.
She write to elude the genetic cast of her and its morbidity she is worn to.
January 16th
He stands mockingly to my being, that harboring of gaps that they can not fix.
I've gone ill and won't be back again; I used to want a saving - though, it's become a craving.
I shake with dread, and limbs go stiff to presence, yet I thrive for it.
I am not whole, because what it is whole stands there to my left.
I made him painfully, he will shape me morbidly.
They taunt with white coats and medicational forms,
I am diseased; I am the disease.
He's there, I do know - stood with the silhouette of the curvature about his back, so tall
and slender, he is, decrepit.
His lengthy of hair pours fluid, water drenched yet fuming blackened steam that carries
no warmth. She glances away from him, to write and it is felt,
the elongated of white sharp points surface in beneath view to touch the locks of her jaw.
He penetrates the skin of her neck, though it is with no pain.
Inaccessible to feel.
His skin there to hers fuses, lightly - slowly.
Hand pressed firmly to the throat that blends then, until he is absorbed.
Smoke trails as the remaining of this absorption where he attends to his home again;
the cellar that is found in this under-conscious.
He goes there and the writing ceases, the light vanquished and dark again,
where she is. 
