Perfect Horror

A short piece from my 1995 years (24th April to be exact): a surreal nightmare dreamscape.


The man sat on the chair, he had no face; just a blank mask, no orifices of any type. A large section of skin and perfect smooth hair. The chair was an armchair, comfortable, fully supportable ? a single spotlight illuminated the sitting man. Cancer dreams and black iris was being spoken by this man yet he had no mouth.

Fire burns all in bright luminous yet the darkness is wilder then the night he continued unconscious of no mouth.

And yet and yet. Dreams fled away He stood up and the chair was gone and he turned around in surprise for a second spotlight had been turned on and in it’s light stood a woman dressed in antique dress from a dead romantic period, stapled and confined in a corset and light weight, unseen, frame that held her dress afloat. ‘Please sir, help me ?’

The faceless man made a motion to speak to move but no sound erupted the silence except sweet tears and sobs.

‘All is death and fire, all is beginning and end, new unknown fears and new unknown joys’ she said ‘I am tired, so tired?’ And yet the faceless man could not talk could not communicate could not ? could not ? could ? not. And another spotlight illuminated beside the woman and then another until around him were 10 spots of light in each a person, some male, some female, some intelligent and some not, some beautiful, some not. And they all talked, all talked drowning the darkness with noise. Constantly, insistent, talking at the faceless man. And the man touched his face and he poked hard at the skin where his mouth should be and he found a hole, a single hole to talk through and he spoke a word a single word yet it was never heard, the other voices drowning out all sound and a spotlight illuminated a space that hadn’t been filled in the circle. He tried to speak again, to shout out but no, no sound.

And the voices began to speak in unison, ‘come, we will give you eyes to seem, we will give you a nose. Come, come join us.’ And the man knew the horror, the pain, the anguish of these but he so desperately wanted a face to see and speak. He tried to speak again and all of them wailed loudly to drown out his words. And he resigned himself and walked to the empty spotlight and he stood there and look no different except his eyes were real and his mouth was not real and all the lights disappeared and only darkness is left, hopeless darkness. Empty for a while.

‘Till human voices wake us and we drown.’

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