Infest

Oh god, it hurts. I can feel them underneath my skin. I can feel their tiny black bodies writhing, crawling, wriggling inside me. I can feel them scraping, their millions of tiny mouths gnawing away inside of me. Their tiny insectile limbs are burrowing in me, leaving long jagged trails of torn flesh and bone and vein behind, turning my insides into a ravaged wasteland, into a scarred and dead world.

I stand beneath the steaming water pouring from the showerhead, but the water does not soothe the burning pain inside my skin, the millions of pointed teeth set inside microscopic mandibles chewing away relentlessly at my insides.

I scrape my sharpened fingernails across the red patch on my side, where it is swollen and it burns the worst. Long trails of red are left behind and the pain of them devouring me is replaced momentarily with a greater pain of my nails digging into my flesh.

I dig too deep and the skin breaks and I watch blood stream out, thinning in the water as it runs down my skin. With horror I see a growing black trail follow the red, slowly at first, then gaining mass and courage. I feel a new burning as the black swarm slowly makes its way up my side in a winding path. It stretches out and covers my torso, then my shoulders.

I hold my arm up in front of me and watch as they envelop it totally, their billions of tiny black bodies crawling over my skin, their billions of tiny jaws biting into me, eating me alive, and I begin to laugh.

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