Chapter 1

Mist filled the air in twisting fumes while catching the light of the moon like vaporized mercury, thickening the air of this frigid evening. With each step the man took, twigs snapped and autumn leaves crunched beneath his feet, making it exceptionally difficult to keep his footing in the dark forest. Further hindering him were the weights of the can of kerosene hanging in his grip and the tarp-wrapped body he was dragging behind him. The alcohol in his blood and the tears streaming down his face took away what little balance he had left.

Through what felt like miles of dense forest and eons of strenuous hiking, he found his way to the spot he had picked several hours earlier. Digging this grave had been like pulling teeth, with the roots of the trees knitted together like sheets of Kevlar, but he had made sure to dig a least a meter down, so as to make sure that this abomination would remain hidden forever. At least he had the daylight back then. He had to rely on the moonlight to return to this place, as he was too afraid of being discovered to carry a flashlight or lantern. His only relief came from the pure radiance shining down from the crescent pearl in the sky, slipping through the barren branches of the trees that stood around him like grotesque skeletons.

Even though it let him see, the light played tricks on his eyes. Every surface was covered in a mosaic of lunar beams from the spindly branches above, turning depth perception into a visual quagmire. Shaking aside his doubt and fear, the man grabbed the rolled up corpse and dropped it into the shallow grave, hoping that this nightmare would finally end. This had been a mistake; it was all a terrible mistake that should have never happened. But here he was, burying the definition of terror and with more blood on his hands than he ever thought possible, blood that would never wash away.

As the corpse hit the cold ground like an elevator with broken cables, the cries of birds began to sound out, cries of fear and anger. Looking around wildly, the man found himself surrounded by a ring of crows, scattered throughout the forest floor with many of them in the branches above. He had not sensed them when he arrived, and they had never even made a peep at his arrival.

Or ... could it been that they had been screaming all this time, and he had been too disoriented to hear them?

The scavengers' beaks glistened with blood, blood from the carcasses of several animals strewn about. Wait ... they hadn't been there before. Rodents, deer, and even a bear were slumped over in the surrounding woods, all in the process of being stripped when the man interrupted the winged scavengers. This pit had only been dug twelve hours ago, yet so many animals lay dead with no reason or logic in their falling. This was now a place of death, poisoned by the man because he had picked it to bear the curse he was trying to hide. Just by coming to that spot with the intention of defiance, he had invoked the wrath of the horror whispering in his ear.

The crows continued to cry out and screech, wordlessly cursing the intruder and the evil he brought with him. Their kind had always been considered ominous and associated with death and despair, but outside of the library, they were natural creatures, each of them horrified by the abomination brought to their presence. This scene of death and bloody feasting was now darkened with the arrival of the tarp-wrapped corpse. Even with dozens of crows screaming at him like murder victims, the man hefted the can of kerosene and removed the cap. He would burn the body while using the pit to keep the flames contained and hidden, and then bury any remains of this crime against nature. He emptied the can onto the wrapped corpse, yet this only increased the screaming of the crows. Their cries were so high in volume that the man's ears ached within his skull and he wanted desperately to cover them.

Reaching into his pocket, he drew a book of matches. "Go to Hell,"he muttered, lighting the matchbook and dropping it into the pit.

With explosive force, the kerosene was ignited and the grave turned into a miniature volcano. The crows continued to scream in terror and warning while the man stared into the inferno, unable to see through the mantle of flames. Quickly their cries stepped on his last nerve and he sought to scare them off. Picking up a stick to hurl in the direction of a nearby cluster, he stopped.

Silence.

Every crow had simultaneously been muzzled with fear, utterly petrified. The forest was now so quiet that only the beating the man's heart in his ears confirmed he still had the ability to hear. Sweating so profusely that he was now steaming in the chilly night, and with shivers crawling up his spine with such intensity that they riddled his limbs with muscle spasms, the man slowly turned and looked down. The flames had withered, having run out of fuel after consuming the tarp. With the plastic sheeting incinerated, the body was fully revealed, lacking a single spec of soot and showing no signs of even the slightest burning. The flames had been powerless against it; they could not stand against the darkness within that flesh and blood vessel. Looking at it and again realizing what he had done, the man struggled not to vomit.

The cheeks, nose, and eyelids of the face had been removed, with the jaws sewn shut and somehow fixed in a permanent grin. The entire body was shaved bare and had been inscribed with hundreds of symbols in a language no human being could read. The symbols had been carved into the flesh itself and then cauterized to prevent the victim from bleeding to death. Lengths of barbed wire had been threaded through the limbs and torso like worms through an apple and then wrapped around the body similarly to mummification, each one having been placed to avoid the organs and vital blood vessels, while inflicting endless pain onto the victim. The fingers and toes were all broken and with the nails torn off. All signs of a gender had been removed: the genitalia region completely destroyed, the pectoral muscles severed, and the throat cut as if to destroy the Adam's apple, though the man couldn't remember what the gender of his victim had been.

But it was not the slitting of the throat that had killed this ... person. No, they had been alive up until the very end. Two thick nails of black iron pierced the eyes the eyes. They were what killed the victim, completing the ritual the man had been forced to perform and turning this human into a genderless Homunculus, a symbol of mankind while completely devoid of humanity.

Even with the eyes skewered, the corpse stared at the man, at its creator. Slowly, the twist not in the corner of the mouth that held the stitches tight rotated, coming undone. With each turn of the ends of the wire, the man felt his body drop further in temperature, as if his blood were turning into a frozen slurry. At last, the twist-tie fully split, and even with the wire stitches held taught through the mouth, the jaws slowly began to open. As if friction no longer existed, the stitches completely slackened and the jaw hung open, making it look like the corpse was laughing.

Whether it was real or in his mind, the man did not know, but a whistle as sharp as a razorblade cut through the air and brought him to his knees. His vision flashed with crimson brightness as if the forest was now draped in red Christmas lights, while the symbols he had written on the corpse played in his mind over and over again like a slideshow. Around him, the crows were all falling dead while screaming in agony, unable to stand against the malice now assailing them.

"No! I won't listen to you anymore!" the man shouted, covering his ears while digging his fingernails into the sides of his scalp.

Freeing one hand, the man tried to pull a layer of dirt over the dead body with a swing of his arm. While the mini rockslide poured over the corpse, not a single grain fell on the face. From his act of defiance, the screaming in his ears only increased in volume, while the bloody symbols in his mind flashed with greater intensity and speed. He could no longer see, the bright red incantations occupied his whole mind and seemed to smash down upon his consciousness with each flash.

He could feel them delving deep into his mind, poisoning every bright light he held dear and driving him mad. In every corner of his mind, his most cherished dreams became twisted nightmares. Friends and family in his memories transformed into grotesque creatures, were ripped apart while screaming in agony in front of Christmas trees, tortured and raped behind birthday cakes, and even went wild and began slaughtering each other on top of Thanksgiving feasts made of human flesh.

Paired with this psychological horror show, waves of physical pain swept through the man, pain so intense that he did not have the strength to scream. Swarms of gnawing fire ants were pouring across his skin like boiling water, bony spiders were sinking their fangs into his organs and making them melt, centipedes were carving openings into his flesh and burrowing into his body, his bones were breaking apart into splinters and tearing apart the surrounding muscles, and his fingernails were being pealed off. He slapped his body desperately, trying to kill the illusionary vermin that his mind projected.

"Ok! I'll do it!" the man finally shouted.

The pain receded to a dull throbbing, and with just enough strength for a single act of defiance against the whistle, the man ripped his keys from his coat pocket and stabbed himself in the jugular with all his strength. He pulled the keys away, releasing a fountain of gore into the forest. Sprayed into the frigid night air, the hot blood steamed and shined like rubies as it caught the moonlight, before at last splashing down onto the corpse.

The man fell over, the life pouring from his body drop by drop. His death meant nothing; he had not stopped the spread of the evil.

"No one should have to get up this early. This is just barbaric," Jason cursed as he got out of bed.

Nineteen years old, Jason was in his second year of college, though he lived at home and commuted each day. With September ending, his room had reached that bitter chill that made him question the effort of getting up and putting on clothes when his bed was just so comfy. Knowing that his alarm would never let him stay asleep, he stood up and put on the least-dirty clothes on his floor. Leaving his room, he passed by his younger sister Colleen in the bathroom. A sophomore in high school, she had auburn hair while his was a more dull brown. She got up before anyone else in the house simply to put on her makeup and get her hair perfect.

As per his routine, Jason wished and cursed that he had been able to find classes that started later while he stepped down the cold stairs and made his way to the kitchen. Always keeping his eyes pealed for omens to signal a good or bad day, he filled up a bowl of cereal and began his morning routine.

With the raisin bran from breakfast sitting in his stomach with weight that would last until lunch, Jason rubbed the steering wheel of his car to try and heat it up while waiting for his girlfriend. He and Christi knew each other from high school and lived fairly close to each other, but they only started dating last year when they found out they were both going to the Southern Maine Community College to save money before transferring to the nearby university. Parked in front of her suburban house, he perked up like a cat hearing the sound of a can's unsealing as the front door opened and slammed shut.

Wearing a sweatshirt that would be discarded in just a couple hours and a tight skirt, the blond beauty rushed out of her house with a travel mug in her hand and her backpack over her shoulder. As she approached, Jason's pants became tight from his bulging erection in anticipation of her arrival.

"Hey baby," She said, climbing into his car and giving him a toothpaste and coffee-flavored kiss.

"Morning," he hummed, looking in the rearview mirror before backing out of Christi's driveway. As soon as her house was out of view, he turned to her.

"Well?" he asked with an excited smirk.

In reply, she only held up a finger to tell him to be patient while she emptied her travel mug. Drinking every last drop of hot coffee, she then washed it out with a mouthful of water from a bottle in her bag.

"I swear you have absolutely no patience," she muttered.

Putting the bottle and mug away, she turned to him and unzipped his pants. Jason's car swerved from side to side as he tried to stay focused, all the while her cold fingers opened his pants, reached into his underwear, and wrapped around his now fully-erect manhood. Pulling it free of its cloth prison, she embraced it with her mouth. A shudder of euphoria ran through Jason's whole body the moment her lips touched the head, before proceeding to move down and take the whole thing.

"Well with how well you do it, of course I may be a little over-eager," he shrugged while her blonde head started bobbing up and down like a buoy in the rough sea.

This was a deal they had made, though in a sense, much of the deal was never spoken. Every day that Christi carpooled with Jason, she would give him a hummer for the road as a way of expressing her appreciation. As long as she sucked him off the three days a week they had classes, her car would be spared the millage and gas consumption of an hour's commute. But for the record, half of that hour was time spent waiting in traffic, maneuvering through the city of Portland, and trying to find a single motherfucking parking spot. This was a small price to pay, especially since she already blew him during sex. Yet they both knew in the back of their minds that if they got into a fight, Jason could call her a whore for it and completely gain the upper hand.

For ten minutes, Christi slathered his cock with the concoction of her saliva and his pre-cum, then slurped it off with the suction of a vacuum cleaner or licked it off with long sweeps of her soft tongue. The whole time he was driving, Jason struggled to keep the car from swerving as shudder after shudder shook him to his core. Just the feeling of Christi's spit running down his balls nearly sent him into a stroke. At last, his self-control finally broke and a geyser of foamy semen sprayed into Christi's throat, making her cough and jerk her head back.

"Sorry."

"You really need to work on warning me. That is not the kind of thing I need so early in the morning," she replied while wiping her lips and drawing her water bottle.

"So what do you want to do on Friday? I'm open for anything."

Before answering, Christi took a long drink of water and even gargled to remove the sticky cum from her throat. "Meh, let's just order a pizza and watch a movie. I can feel the bug that's going around inching into my body and I want to try and beat it with laziness."

Good looking, kinky, lazy, and sweet as sugar. That's what made her so perfect.

"That sounds good to me. I swear, this semester is kicking my ass. I really need to get my shit together."

"Ugh, that makes two of us. I'm either at work or school all the time and it's killing me. I'm too much of a sloth for the real world."

"Let's just hope that today ends quickly."

Swears bounced back and forth in Jason's car as the young couple struggled to find a parking spot in the stuffed campus. No matter how early you arrived, all of the good spots were always taken and you would have to park at the very edge of the universe, that is, if you could even find a place to park. They had made good time getting to the university, having twenty minutes before their classes started. However, the only spot they could find was in the farthest corner of the campus, behind the local bookstore with a dumpster a few cars away.

"Alright, see you at noon for lunch," Christi said with a stretch.

"Not so fast..." Jason hummed while looking around.

The expression on Christi's face immediately shifted, so clearly portraying her inner thoughts that she might as well have had "you have got to be fucking kidding me" written on her forehead. Ok, so she wasn't always so sweet in the early morning.

"No."

"Come on, no one's around and—"

"No."

"We have plenty of time, plus—"

"No."

"You're wearing a skirt. Not to mention—"

"No."

"It would really help wake me up and—"

"Damn it, Jason! What part of NO do you not understand?! We are not having a quickie in the school parking lot!"

"No one will see us! There aren't any spots nearby for people to park in, I can't imagine a reason why someone from the book store would come out to the dumpster, and everyone else has already left their cars."

"What if someone walks by? What if they see us and decide to snap a picture?!"

"They won't even know who we are! Seriously, how many people do you know at this university? I don't have a single classmate listed as a facebook friend. What would someone possibly say? 'Some couple I've never seen before and will never recognize were getting it on without any visible nudity in a car so common that I can't even remember what color it was'? And besides, if you ride on top, you can keep watch."

"If I ride on top, I can keep watch. Yeah, great way to ask!"

"Please, just five minutes! I love you! I love you! You're the best girlfriend ever!"