Tell A Tale — Gothic Fiction

The lion in a world of lambs By Sam Stowe

4:00am. A young coated man slouches down on a beaten plastic seat. He reflects on the circumstances that have brought him to this confinement of peril and unconscious sinning. He gulps down a glassful of black liquid. His mind starts to fade into the dimly lit room. He looks up. He’s starring at me. He is me, and I am him.



His eyes were pitch. His head was twisted, along with his posture being intimidatingly slouched. He wore a smirk of pain and suffering upon him, I could feel his coldness radiating around me. I hated him, but he loved me. I can recall the events that you have requested, over the first week of January, with pin point accuracy. At least, my part in this all. He doesn't like sharing, only when it benefits him he shares. You see, you asked whether he was in this room with us but he’s not, he knows that if I acknowledge the crimes he's committed. Well, his artwork would be prevented. All I can really say is that it wasn't me at all but these damn chips the Eden corporation placed in us. They already had our minds online, they didn't need our conscious too. But I was surrounded, all my so-called-friends constrained and insisted my life to be placed upon a canvas of narcissism for all to see. An effigy of false interest and undesirable passion for things I don't even fucking care about!. Excuse me for my language, I'm not a sociable man, and well, I’ve never been an advocate for social media. He understood that, that’s why he posted those heinous acts on my page! he knew it would aggravate me. Yes, of course I understand that Eden AI’s cannot control human bodies but he must have taken control when I was sleeping. I only remember the aftermaths, I don't commemorate the acts my body had done as my soul did not commit the crime. I remember it was like waking from an act of falling. I was suddenly in this gruesome scene of blood, bone and other fluids. He was standing next to her bludgeoned head, grasping the hammer with a sadistic smile painted over his face. He sauntered to her computer, logged onto my account and posted his ‘artwork’ for the world to see. Its not my fault they were on for so long! you would think that damn website would have some sort of censoring software but I know it doesn’t. I’ve seen horrendous landscapes of violence and extremism within it. It disgusts me, to see a world of egotistical terrorists post their decapitations, and whores to advertise their sexual deviance! at least my work has some finesse! some imaginable creation to this fucked up society where every man can type his hatred to any race. Where every woman can create a facade of life experience. I am not a lamb but a lion! and I will embellish this world of deceivers.


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