Holly Lunt – THE ASSIMILATION

It’s HOLLY LUNT’s last column. WARNING: CONTAINS GRAPHIC VIOLENT IMAGERY.

eyeballs final column HOLY LUNT love Poo SEXUAL IMAGERY skin TENTACLES VEINS WHAT THE FUCK WTF

CASTLE MOUND. 00:00am.

ASSIMILATION BEGINS.

BENJA EMERGES.

HE IS A GIANT BALL OF METRE THICK ARTERIES CLUMPED TOGETHER IN A COLOSSAL WET NEST. HE IS BREATHING. SHUDDERING, SWEATING. HE STINKS. ROTTING. JUICES SEEP FROM THE GAPS BETWEEN THE GIANT VEINS. BUBBLING AND CRACKLING. ON HIS BACK SITS A GIANT WOUND, FEET DEEP. TENS OF MUSCULAR TENTACLES SPRAWL OUTWARDS, WRITHING AGGRESSIVELY AS IF STARVED, SEARCHING FOR FOOD.

THE TENTACLES SEEM TO NOTICE ME. THEY BECOME RIGID. ERECT. THEN SUDDENLY EXTEND TOWARD ME, DANCING IN MY DIRECTION.

I AM FROZEN. I WANT TO MOVE BUT I’M ANCHORED. I HAVE TO BE. BENJA AWAITS. I AM STILL AND I HAVE TO BE STILL. I FEEL THE FIRST TENTACLE SLIDE UP MY RIGHT TROUSER. INCHES THICK. IT’S COILING UP MY LEG: LEATHERY, FOAMY, STRONG, POWERFUL, BEAUTIFUL, DISGUSTING, PERFECT.

I VOMIT FROM THE SMELL AS I FEEL IT SLIDE UP BENEATH MY SHIRT, STROKING ITS WAY PAST MY BELLY, THEN MY RIBS, THEN MY NECK AND UP ONTO MY FACE. ALL OF A SUDDEN IT’S ON MY CHEEK. I CAN SEE IT IN THE CORNER OF MY VISION. IT’S MOVING UPWARDS, CLOSER TO MY EYE; SO CLOSE I CAN NO LONGER FOCUS ON IT. I CLAMP MY EYES SHUT, TIGHT. I’M SCREAMING, STILL FROZEN. I FEEL IT BRUSH AGAINST MY EYELASHES SO I SQUEEZE EVERY MUSCLE IN AND AROUND MY EYELIDS, EVERY MUSCLE IN MY FACE. EVERY OUNCE OF ENERGY IN MY BODY IS FOCUSED ON KEEPING IT OUT OF MY EYE.

BUT THEN, SLOWLY, IT STARTS TUCK ITSELF INTO THE SLIT. BENEATH THE LID. I SQUEEZE TIGHTER BUT THERE’S NOTHING I CAN DO: IT’S PRISING OPEN THE GAP, PULLING DOWN THE SKIN BENEATH MY EYE TO FORM AN OPENING OF STRETCHED PINK. I’M STILL SCREAMING. IT STARTS TO SLITHER INTO THE FLESHY GAP BENEATH MY EYEBALL. COLD. IT DIGS FURTHER, BURROWING, SQUIRMING, WRITHING. I FEEL THE SKIN AROUND MY EYE BULGE AS IT COILS ITS WAY BACK UP BEHIND MY EYEBALL. IT’S FILLING MY VISION. I’M BLIND. MY EYE IS STINGING. RAW. IT REMINDS OF THAT TIME IN CINDIES ONCE. I’M STILL SCREAMING, CRYING.

NOW I FEEL THE TENTACLE BURROW DIRECTLY INTO MY PUPIL, PLUNGING ITS WAY INTO ITS VERY CENTRE; INSIDE MY EYEBALL, WRITHING. IT LAYS BENJA’S EGGS, ALL OF WHICH HATCH IMMEDIATELY THEN LAY MORE EGGS WHICH ALSO INSTANTLY HATCH. NOW THOUSANDS OF SMALLER WORMS ARE INSIDE MY EYEBALL, WRIGGLING LIKE MAGGOTS.

I FEEL ANOTHER, FATTER TENTACLE SLIDE ITS WAY UP MY BODY, ALONG MY STOMACH AND TOWARDS MY MOUTH, FORCING ITS WAY DOWN MY THROAT. IT’S HUGE: A VAST SWEATING SNAKE FILLING MY NECK. STRETCHING IT. I VOMIT RELENTLESSLY BUT IT HAS NOWHERE TO GO. IT REMINDS ME OF THAT CAIUS FORMAL. SUDDENLY MY EYE SPLITS OPEN; BLOOD RAINS DOWN MY FACE; BITS OF EYE GO ON THE FLOOR.

NOW HUNDREDS OF TINY WORMS SPRAWL OUT ONTO MY CHEEKS, MY CHEST, THE GRASS. THEY’RE BITING ME; NIPPING MY SKIN; MAKING ME BLEED. A FEW REMAIN, WRIGGLING AIMLESSLY INSIDE MY PILLAGED SOCKET. I AM WEAK.

I DROWN IN TENTACLES. THEY’RE EVERYWHERE, PART OF ME: UNDER MY SKIN, INSIDE MY VEINS, IN MY BRAIN. I AM BENJA. LORD OF RICE.

Thanks for reading, and have a great may week!

Holly x