How thin was the veil of lies that covered my eyes

Torn open just enough for me to peek throughout

It pulses with the rhythm of our breath, of our pulses

The truth about flesh. Ah yes, the flesh.

Since times immemorial, flesh is held in the highest form

War, decadence, and rape: history written in cum and blood

The decay of body, mind, and soul has always been the norm

Killing ourselves for a smidgeon of tingle, our single thought.

It makes us indulge our way to our demise,

Scrap us for parts, take what matters from our lives

Pump filth inside our mind and make us beg for more

Our inner gore a putrid core forevermore.

Our corrupted flesh bulges from rotting within

Exposing splendid muscles of putrid beauty

A call from something unseen, but near

Awakened us from our vile whims.

A forgotten truth made plain

An ancient voice calls my name

Shards of sanity crash around me

Begging to be claimed.

What is it that crawls within?

What is it that perfuse my being?

Why am I suddenly so unclean?

Whose is this smile looking at me?

I reach for the light in the sea of darkness I'm in

Monsters knocking on my door, from outside, from within

Laying on the wet floor contemplating my demise

Oops, I think my mind cracked a little bit…

I skitter through the room in a sea of blood and gore

When little morsels come to die some more.

Flying goes your little limbs, say goodbye twinkle toes

Your snapping bones are so amusing, crush crush your little skulls.

Monsters roam the streets, and now one more

I thoroughly lay waste to all who endure

Dashing my way buildings above

Retreating safely to live one day more.

And just like that, all is solved

I'm so tired now, let me fall over

Leave to daylight to care for my vanity

I lay my flesh to rest, beside my sanity.

_______________________________

I open my eyes wide to an ashen morning sky above, my body laying flat in the ground.

The waking world is completely silent, a stark contrast from my turbulent nightmares, but I don't remember falling asleep, let alone in the open.

Where the hell am I?

The foggy weather blurs the outline of my surroundings, but I have the vague impression that I’m… On the rooftop of a building?

I'm so confused and dizzy, my body hurts all over. I stand up slowly, trying to get a better sight in the environment, but there ain't much to see beyond the thick fog that envelops me.

I'm looking odd too. Why is it that my clothes are in shreds, and I'm using Samuel's blue jacket? What happened last night, again? Oh my god.

Awareness settle in all of sudden and I can't help but release a loud gasp. My heart stutters for a moment as I think off…

- Sam! - I scream. But my worries are short lived, as a soon I turn around, there he is, laying besides me, staring at me with wide eyes, shaken.

- Sarah…? - he answers softly, a strange tone in his voice, as if he wasn't sure of what he is saying.

As I lean forward to embrace him, he instinctively jerks back from me. I'm utterly confused, but then he moves forward and hugs me tightly.

- Sam… What the hell happened? Where are we?

My foggy mind can't remember what happened, although I have the pernicious feeling it was something awful.

- You really don't remember…? - he says, with the same worried expression in his face.

As I was about to answer him, I catch a glimpse of something in my hand. As I bring it closer to inspect it… my eyes go wide in horror.

What the fuck is this in my hand?!, I think as I grasp it tightly with my other hand.

- Sarah, what's wrong? - says Sam, startled.

What is he talking about?! Can't he see what is wrong?!

- My… my hand… look Samuel, what is that?!

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I thrash with it while crying softly in desperation, scratching it vigorously to the point of drawing blood, but that thing won't come out.

I feel like it's crawling it's way up my arm, and Samuel just keep looking at me puzzled. I really start to panic, as I scratch it stronger and stronger.

- Sarah, stop! - screams Samuel, holding both my arms while I resist for a moment.

I look at him startled, as my anxiety reached its peak.

- There is nothing wrong with your hands. Look!

As I hesitantly gaze upon my open hands, I realize..

He is right. It's just my hands.

I stare at then confused. What exactly did I see wrong with them? I can't help but feel slightly embarrassed.

I lower my face in embarrassment and he gives my hands each a reassuring squeeze. He stares me with an atypical nervous stare, like he's on edge.

He stands up, and offers me a hand to help me stand too, which I take.

- Come on. We need to get out of here. - he says, taking me by the hand, while wielding a knife on his other hand.

After that, we easily spot the emergency stairs. We started our descent all the way 6 stories down to the floor without much ceremony. There is nothing else to do.

Even with the fog, I spot several odd marks in the building's outer wall, as if something climbed it's way through it.

As soon as we step out of the stairs and into a narrow empty alley, a faint rumble of civilization becames audible. We look at each other nervously, and without words, agree in investigate, walking slowly towards it.

I recognize this place: it's the local bazaar, a large, covered avenue where several informal merchants sell all sort of contraptions, from anime bottoms, to pirate products.

But today, the bazaar was selling no such things.

We stood stiff as if watching an abstract nightmare unfold before our eyes, the stench of blood and carrion filled our nostrils.

As the fog thins down a little, we can see the movement of dozens of humans going by their business.

I say “humans” with a little bit of uncertainty here.

Human beings sporting a myriad of limbs sprawn the bazaar as a macabre menagerie from another world. You name it: two pair of arms, two pair of legs, three pair of arms, two heads, multiple torsos, hands, fingers, faces, eyes, everything combined. Several lack all sort of limbs too, including heads, yet they go on about their lives just like the other, as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

To the right, one such individual hollered about “fresh parts just out of the oven!” Being sold on his shack, where half a dozen of nude mutilated human beings laid sat down, cuts and scars spread across their body, some with grievous wounds beyond anything a human could bear, yet they sat emotionless.

A bloated person full of arms approaches the man, and gestures to one of the individuals in the barrack. The two exchange money, and the owner signals for the person to stand up, which it does promptly.

It patiently lays with his back to the wall as the shop owner picks up a bloodied axe in both his hands. He raises the weapon, and delivers a haphazard cut above the man's shoulder, cutting tendon and bone with an agonizing thump, but still not severing the member. The victim screams, and closes his eyes, with his only remaining arm hanging by a thread of flesh. It still took two more blows for the arm to fall off. The shop owner proceeds to pick up the ghastly member, and give it to the “client” that awaited patiently, watching the show. Taking the arm and sticking it haphazardly to its own torso, it somehow becomes stuck in place, and the creature manages to move the arm immediately after. It waves goodbye, and the shop owner puts a single coin in the pocket of the mutilated creature, which sits back on his place, blood still dripping.

To the left, a locomotive crier spoke all sort of things related to the train. Them, from the train left dozens of people in chains, in a bad state of health and form. Most of them had limbs missing, and some were rotten in several places. They all looked old, sick, or vulnerable in some way.

The sickness and poverty struck people were being auctioned for parts in the middle of the street. They were sold by their own family so they could be of some use. They all looked resigned and strangely lucid of their fate.

I don't know what to feel at this point, I just look at Sam for guidance, but he is strangely calm about the situation, more on edge than horrified.

I feel like there is something he isn't telling me.

He seems to hint at my suspicious, and tightens his hand inviting me to walk along the bazaar, which I do. I would like to press him for answers, but given the situation at hand, I'd rather leave it to later.

I'm not inclined to stay in this place any longer, but it's not like we have much of a choice. We might as well investigate while we are here.

I'm trembling in my rags as we walk down the horror avenue, until the smell of fresh bread and coffee eclipses the smell of gore, signaling we are nearing a bar.

We follow the smell into a normal, cozy bar where people usually take their breakfast. It seems mostly normal, except for some multi-limbed patrons minding their own business, and a bartender missing both his eyeballs and his jaw.

On a TV, there was news going on. I hastily scramble for a remote in the counter to turn up the volume.

- … as it would appear the middle class mostly prefers to buy eyeballs, while the upper classes are intent in buying more limbs, such as arms and legs. The prices have skyrocketed in the last weekend, after the famous internet influencer Janna Margot applied two extra pair of legs on her.

I stare at the news speechless for a moment, before we both take a seat at the bar’s stools, and the bartender comes to us intent of taking our order.

- Two coffees and sandwiches, please. - I say, resigned.