Sloth

black-mold4

Gregg lived the life of a shut in. A recent college dropout something inside his mind had cracked from the social pressure. He convinced himself he only needed some time, time enough to sort out his life and get back on track. However as he waited his little apartment filled with trash, and the stink of unfinished delivery food. His savings dwindled by the day. The longer he stayed in the hole he dug, the harder it would be to climb out.

As he lay in his bed he stared at the ceiling. Contemplating his life and fate. A small black mark had caught his attention, a bit of dark mold in the shape of a circle. Gregg watched it, just one more problem in his life that needed to be fixed. Soon the young man dozed to sleep. A monotonous dripping sound becoming white noise. Drip, drip, drip…

That night dreams haunted the young man. Gregg found himself walking up an endless set of stairs. He did not know why he was climbing, but felt he needed to reach the top, such vagueness often being the nature of dreams. However no matter long it seemed he climbed he could never make any progress. Stopping or resting seemed to only cause him the sensation of falling further down the endless staircase.

Gregg awoke to a mild burning sensation on his leg. It was still night, darkness filled the room. Silence was only broken by the occasional passing car. Attempting to reach down and rub the area of discomfort he found that he could not move, his body was paralyzed. This realization fully awoke him. He felt groggy and sick. Fear growing in his mind as he tried but his efforts proved futile. The burning grow on his leg as a black ooze dripped one droplet at a time onto his bed.

The black mass grow on his lower body. Slowly seeping through bed sheets and onto flesh its acidic nature burning. Sheets, bed, and flesh all burned together sealing Gregg in. he could not scream nor move. He fell in and out of consciousness unsure of how much time had passed between each moment. His agony was slow and painful, made worse by the knowledge that there was no one who stop by any time soon enough to save him.
His landlord was the first to find the organic black mass on top of the bed. Worried parents had contacted him when they could not reach their son for days. He did not suspect it was once human at first, just a mass of black mold. The smell was rancid and the man felt the urge to vomit an urge he succumbed to when he saw what remained of a skull with bits of flesh still hanging to it. It seemed to stare at him, pleading for help.

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