mantix

Full moon out tonight. Just the right amount of clouds. Where you live, you don't see many stars. Some say it's too many lights and some say it's all that pollution in the air, but you think it's all bullshit. The laws of physics dictate that the light from long dead stars is just reaching Earth now and of course, being the cynical basturd that you are, you believe the physicists. Driving through the woods with the moon looking like its dancing above those dark tree tops, you just can't help but wish for something to jump out from the edges of the road and ambush you.

It gets so fucking boring that you don't even care if you hit something. You don't even care that when you get out to look at your roadkill that it's some twisted perversion of nature that wasn't supposed to live. You probably won't even care if it's still alive and if it gets up and bites a generous chunk out of your neck.

You just want something, anything to go wrong just to break you out of your soul-draining monotony. You even wish for some supernatural anomaly lurking inside your house waiting for you to come home from work.

It's late. It's dark. And there are no lights on inside. You fumble with your keys and cautiously open the door feeling really eerie about the whole scenario. As you open the door, you find entrails hanging from the ceiling, white sheets draped over every piece of cheap furniture you've got, and hear something wet and heavy slithering around deeper inside the house.

Ah. Excitement. Who cares if you get killed? The adrenaline rush was so fucking worth it. But no. You'll pop a pill because your doctor told you to, set your alarm, and go to sleep hoping that it'll happen tomorrow night.