Domicile: Submerged
Later that same day, Ralph Balmont lay passed out on the floor of his kitchen, stomach crammed with processed foods.
Ralph's eyes snapped open to reveal a dark, warm place he couldn't immediately define. Putting his hand down, he felt his palm smoosh into something soft & wet. It was only after withdrawing it reflexively, he realized whatever it was, it was also warm. Rubbing his fingers together, he found it had a thick consistency, almost like if you were to rub applesauce between your fingers- except it was drier, like pus after you burst a large zit. The thought made him grow queezy and almost wretch, but he shut his eyes and cleared his mind of that offending thought. His breathing slowed and became even. As strange as the situation Ralph found himself was, he found as he stood, that it was even stranger he himself was completely dry, save for the tips of his fingers, obviously. There was barely any light to speak of, and he had to move along slowly, arms outstretched.
The space felt immense, and his nose was beginning to pick up the smell of decay. As he moved along, Ralph's eyes suddenly picked up an odd shape that rose to about ankle level. Curious, he cautiously inched nearer and kneeled down. As he did so, his eyes widened as the familiar shape came into focus.
It was a mushroom. Barely visible, but the shape was exactly like the one in his memory, so Ralph knew it was brilliantly yellow. He opened his mouth to voice a question, but realized the futility of it, and silenced himself. His posture sagged, and he rose to a standing position, his head hung down. Rot; the symbolic representation of it made Ralph feel very depressed. Ralph plodded past the mushroom, but his mind was now consumed with it. His steps felt heavy, labored, futile. He moved on, in the direction of some faint light source, and gradually more mushrooms- silhouetted in shadow- came into view along the ground, or whatever the surface was. Ralph's nose indicated the smell was beginning to get stronger. As he moved closer to the far off light, Ralph could see both the ground & the mushrooms glistened. He set his jaw at the thought of what might be on every surface here. The mushrooms were yellow as he'd suspected, but the ground seemed brownish.
Eventually, Ralph found the light source- some sort of industrial work light set up next to a wall of some sort, evidentally made of some kind of stone- indeed, as Ralph's eyes searched the surface of it, it appeared to be the only dry thing in this place. The strange stone wall had some sort of mural chisled into it. It depicted people, evidentally out of their minds, eating each other's flesh. They were all smiling madly, caught up in some sort of grotesque revelry. As horrifying as the sight of this was, Ralph found it somehow familiar, like he'd seen it somewhere before. place the palm of his hand on it. Ralph peered even closer, his eyes making out something in the crevices of the carven image. Just then, something wet hit the top of his hand; Ralph gave a startled cry as he stumbled back; blood had begun oozing from the mural.
Ralph stood, mouth agape, trying to make sense of it all, but his powers of reason couldn't fathom it.
"Whaaat.... the fuck."
Ralph suddenly realized he was dressed in a shirt he'd worn as a child, the comfy collar around his neck indicating to him a modest feeling of protection & warmth... indeed, everything seemed warm, even the air in the dark wet place seemed very warm. It was beginning to dawn on him this was some sort of twisted dream, probably brought on from gorging himself before falling asleep exhausted from his trip to pick up food. Still, as he took steps back from the mural to take it all in, Ralph couldn't make sense of the image, or why it seemed like a memory more than a nightmare.
Click to viewRalph's eyes snapped open to reveal a dark, warm place he couldn't immediately define. Putting his hand down, he felt his palm smoosh into something soft & wet. It was only after withdrawing it reflexively, he realized whatever it was, it was also warm. Rubbing his fingers together, he found it had a thick consistency, almost like if you were to rub applesauce between your fingers- except it was drier, like pus after you burst a large zit. The thought made him grow queezy and almost wretch, but he shut his eyes and cleared his mind of that offending thought. His breathing slowed and became even. As strange as the situation Ralph found himself was, he found as he stood, that it was even stranger he himself was completely dry, save for the tips of his fingers, obviously. There was barely any light to speak of, and he had to move along slowly, arms outstretched.
The space felt immense, and his nose was beginning to pick up the smell of decay. As he moved along, Ralph's eyes suddenly picked up an odd shape that rose to about ankle level. Curious, he cautiously inched nearer and kneeled down. As he did so, his eyes widened as the familiar shape came into focus.
It was a mushroom. Barely visible, but the shape was exactly like the one in his memory, so Ralph knew it was brilliantly yellow. He opened his mouth to voice a question, but realized the futility of it, and silenced himself. His posture sagged, and he rose to a standing position, his head hung down. Rot; the symbolic representation of it made Ralph feel very depressed. Ralph plodded past the mushroom, but his mind was now consumed with it. His steps felt heavy, labored, futile. He moved on, in the direction of some faint light source, and gradually more mushrooms- silhouetted in shadow- came into view along the ground, or whatever the surface was. Ralph's nose indicated the smell was beginning to get stronger. As he moved closer to the far off light, Ralph could see both the ground & the mushrooms glistened. He set his jaw at the thought of what might be on every surface here. The mushrooms were yellow as he'd suspected, but the ground seemed brownish.
Eventually, Ralph found the light source- some sort of industrial work light set up next to a wall of some sort, evidentally made of some kind of stone- indeed, as Ralph's eyes searched the surface of it, it appeared to be the only dry thing in this place. The strange stone wall had some sort of mural chisled into it. It depicted people, evidentally out of their minds, eating each other's flesh. They were all smiling madly, caught up in some sort of grotesque revelry. As horrifying as the sight of this was, Ralph found it somehow familiar, like he'd seen it somewhere before. place the palm of his hand on it. Ralph peered even closer, his eyes making out something in the crevices of the carven image. Just then, something wet hit the top of his hand; Ralph gave a startled cry as he stumbled back; blood had begun oozing from the mural.
Ralph stood, mouth agape, trying to make sense of it all, but his powers of reason couldn't fathom it.
"Whaaat.... the fuck."
Ralph suddenly realized he was dressed in a shirt he'd worn as a child, the comfy collar around his neck indicating to him a modest feeling of protection & warmth... indeed, everything seemed warm, even the air in the dark wet place seemed very warm. It was beginning to dawn on him this was some sort of twisted dream, probably brought on from gorging himself before falling asleep exhausted from his trip to pick up food. Still, as he took steps back from the mural to take it all in, Ralph couldn't make sense of the image, or why it seemed like a memory more than a nightmare.