@grievanight requested some sleep paralysis Pennywise. Wrote this to Ritual Spirit by Massive Attack
Pain rips thru your chest. You cannot breathe. Your nails burn across your chest as the nails upon them dig thru the flesh there. Something is squeezing, a weight. Too heavy. Your ribs feel as if they are being crushed.
Your head rocks forward. Are you dreamingā¦ā¦ or drowningā¦ā¦. All is groggy nothingness. You open your eyes.
It is indeed drowning. Your glassy eyes watch the weight of countless tons of murky blue water press upon you. The ocean perhaps. And above you, floating in alien grace, an aquatic nightmare. All fins and fangs and opalescent eyes.
Bubbles foam from Itās mouth as It descends. Bony unnatural joints prickling Itās skin as It tips Itās jaws towards you. Perhaps to rend your ribs from their fleshy entombment.
It cannot be. You squeeze your eyes closed. Taste blood as your teeth pierce your inner cheek. No. The thrumming terror raises the fever in your blood to fever pitch.
But you cannot resist. The instinctive need to see the threat before you overpowers even your own natural fear. Your eyes sting from the sweat dribbling into them as they open again.
Fire. All is fire. You can smell flesh burning. Like some hellish barbecue. You scream in your mind that it isnāt human. It isnāt human.
You can hear screams of agony. So many and so strong that it blends into one concerted voice of pain.
And there It is. The same creature descending upon you. The same bony odd joints in places there should not logically be joints. No fins this time. Just a bony monster of ash and flame. A tongue, dripping melted flesh and acid blood, runs along Itās rows of razor teeth. It looks so hungry.
The heated flesh of your forearm presses into your orbital bones as you press it in. No. NO.
But you are a hapless puppet to this farce. This macabre dance of horror. You open your eyes yet again, knowing full well that you do not wish to see. But helpless to your own dreaming whim.
Darkness now. Damp. The dank stink of the grave. You can feel the worms wriggling upon your skin. But what is worseā¦ā¦ it is so dark that you cannot see the thing you KNOW is descending upon you. You KNOW It is there. You just cant SEE It.
Tears scald your temples as they flow from your stinging eyes. You can feel the dribble of soil upon your cheeks and the burn from it entering your vision.
And fear. Rancid bitter fear. Loneliness too. There is nothing and no one here. Save that thing. That beast which descends both in your mind and here in this darkness. No one to help you.
The sound is oddly gentle. Yet still frightening. It is inhuman, raspy, as the sound of paper being rolled across gravel.
āSuch beautiful fear. Tasty. Look at youā¦ā¦ doing all the work.ā The following laughter is dry and brittle as ancient bones.
More tears flow, yet you reach upward. Afterallā¦ā¦ if this monster is to kill youā¦ā¦. It is still HERE. Still the most solid thing you can grasp. And somehowā¦ā¦. All the pain you feel nowā¦ā¦ does not compare to the veritable agony of being alone in this cacophony of noise and illusion.
You can feel the confusion of the beast as It sinks into your embrace. You waitā¦.. oddly patientā¦.. for Itās death blow. You throw your head back. Bare your neck. Arch your back. Expose your vitals. You want this OVER. Your emotional cortex is simply too weary to continue.
Something sticky and wet dribbles upon your chest. Saliva. You donāt know how you know what it is. But you do.
You can feel Itās snout press against your jugular vein. Like the lipless jaw of a canine skull. And the reek of old death assails your nostrils. Not the pungent gag of bloat, but the dusty cough of mummified remains. Andā¦ā¦. Popcorn?
Reality shifts as hints of this pour thru. Circus noises. Elephants. Cheering. Whistles. Circus scents. Cotton candy. Candied apples. And yes, buttery popcorn. Even the dry feel of summer air. All a reverberating echo inside this damp cold tomb you are within. A mockery of childhood awe and joy.
It is all dark. You cant SEE.
Butā¦.. there is no longer fear. And the thing is puzzled as it shuffles into your neck.
āWhat is this? Where has it gone?ā A long tongue slithers out to run along your jaw line.
You feel several things at once. Your hair follicles prickle at the dampness of the underground. A silken chest presses against your defensive palms. Weight settles upon your body. The thing is with you now. Andā¦.. shame. Shame as your body ignites to this stimulus. Heat coils in your abdomen at this presence.
It inhales deeply, Itās breath chill upon your neck, before freezing. And now you are pinned beneath a silk lined statue of marble.
But you knowā¦ā¦. You are arousedā¦ā¦ even if against your willā¦ā¦.. and It can clearly smell this.
Some insipid spirit of rebellion grabs you then. Boldly, you reach up. The silk upon Itās chest feels cool underneath of your fingertips. But you do not stop. Your hands venture upward. You wish to feel the face of your killer.
You gasped as your hands make contact. Its face isnāt the skeletal maw you had felt upon your neck. Itāsā¦ā¦.. It feelsā¦ā¦.. HUMAN.
It is still motionless, almost in shock, as you trace Itās features, before a low and very much inhuman growl begins to bubble from Itās chest. Itās entire body vibrates from this.
You can see Itās face then. You donāt know what the light source is, or even where it is coming from. But you can see It now.
Itās a clown! But not like any youāve seen before.
Clowns are supposed to be silly. To tickle a childās learning mind. But this one sure isnt silly. In factā¦ā¦.. Itās ā¦ā¦.. scary andā¦ā¦.. oddly beautiful. Predatory. The lines cutting thru his eyes wrinkle before they touch his full lips. He looks very angry. His vermilion irises bore into yours. You arenāt behaving in the way heās expected. And heās very obviously NOT pleased about this.
You donāt have much time to fully register this before his angry expression melts into a leering one.
āOh? Not fear? Silly thing. Silly girl.ā It laughs almost merrily, Its bells tinkling. You can feel one of those bells bite coldly into your belly as he presses his weight into you. āOh, but I can fix that.ā
You know this statement should receive just that sentiment. Fear. But it doesnāt. Your thighs relax to allow It even closer.
A dark chuckle rumbles from Itās chest.
āSo THAT is what youāre thinking of? Wellā¦ā¦. You pathetic bags of meat are all the same, arenāt you?ā It pushes Itās hips forward into yours. You can feel something beneath the silk of his trousers. Itās stiff andā¦ā¦ wriggling. Not human. Not at all. But your body doesnāt give a single fig. Your throat wheezes as you let out a strangled groan.
āBe stillā¦ā¦ā This is clearly a warning. āItād be a shame to break the toy before itās been played with.ā A snorting giggle erupts from Itās lips as you feel one of Itās massive hands snake into the hair on the back of your head to grasp almost painfully. Your scalp burns at the tension.
You feel something pressing against your slit. Itās cool and wet. You want this thoā¦. Whatever this is. It could end you right here and now and you wouldnāt even care. Your body relaxes and your hips angle for better access.
āPleaseā¦ā¦.ā Your whimper breaks into the noise of Itās silken costume.
Your helpless plea seems to have more of an effect than It would have liked. It snarls as Its hips buck forward, driving Itās inhuman cock into you.
Itās next words shear thru the haze of pleasure surrounding your body.
āOhā¦.. Iām afraid Iām going to break you after all, my sweet little girl.ā
