VESSEL 4 Pain

Unknowingly an incredible feeling of peace overtook me. There were no more shackles on my spirit caused by the subconscious feeling that good would prevail. It was a very profound experience that I wouldn't be able to share. I finally understood why monks seek enlightenment. Now I know, it is a truly remarkable thing. Like a sudden breakthrough during research or realizing a test answer just in the nick of time. I should just accept whatever fate has in store for me.

Be it a quick and painless death or one of pure torture. I wouldn't mind. But why should I accept it? Because I can't do anything about it? Because I'm weak? Because I'm just another pathetic human being? One that is always forced into a system created by others. If not one created by G.o.d, then one made by humans themselves to pressure others. No matter which kind of system is developed, there will always be mortals placing themselves above one another believing themselves to be destined for greatness. All they would ever amount to is a pile of nutrients for saprophytic mushrooms. No matter how many they kill, no matter how much they train, there would never be an option to escape the inevitable Death.

If a G.o.d does exist, why would he ever give a lesser being the slightest of chances to surpa.s.s him? That's without considering how immortality would affect a person's state of mind. Once everything has been tried, why would there be a need to stay alive? A bored G.o.d is definitely worse than an angry one. One is predictable whilst the other is an uncontrollable variable. If a G.o.d is angry then he might just kill a few humans or go around destroying things, but if he ever truly becomes bored then anything is possible.

Lost in my train of thought, I actually forgot about the pain for a moment, but then it suddenly hit me like a truck. Forgetting it became impossible as soon as I realized that I had forgotten it for a moment. The more I try to ignore it, the harder it becomes. It's the same as how you would naturally tune out your senses after inactivity. Once you concentrate on one of them like hearing, you won't be able to stop hearing. This process would then create an infinite loop until your thought process moves on due to any kind of distraction.
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I subconsciously realized that my chest was being compressed, giving me a feeling similar to asthma whilst my arm was being torn off. It started off with a painful stretching feeling. Then I heard an almost inaudible pop. The pulling stopped just long enough to develop hope before the twisting started. I knew my arm would be disabled at best, feeling as how it was already turned further then humanly possible. Sensing the white-hot pain of skin being stretched beyond its limits and being able to accurately judge how much was still intact didn't help. Back and forth, twisting and turning the pain continued. That's when I felt my body loosening. Not only that but also a disgusting feeling of long and slimy "things" being pulled out with my arm. The slimy feeling spread from my shoulder to my back and became increasingly sticky. Only at this point did I realize that the sticky sensation must be due to clothes.

I also noticed how the burning grip on my chest was causing me to sweat excessive amounts. My sense of smell was being overwhelmed by what I'd a.s.sume to be the smell of rusted iron. All I could do was stay on the receiving end. No matter how much I tried to move, I could only tense a few muscles at best. The more I tensed my muscles, the weaker I became. I felt the warmth leave me behind and adrenaline kicking in. Only a mentally ill person would want an adrenaline rush in my situation. All I got was a decreased sensation of pain at the cost of slowing my senses and thus increasing the duration of pain till death.

After losing my right arm I barely got a chance to think of death before I started to smell the wondrous smell of cooked meat. Although I was sure it had to be meat I wasn't sure what kind exactly. It definitely wasn't fish or chicken. It didn't really smell like beef either but somehow it resembled pork. I almost instinctively wanted to cry as I realized that my wound was being cauterized. With that disappeared my hope of a quick death.

It seems like a slow death wasn't appealing enough as my other arm started to be tugged. I have long since started to transition into a mental meltdown phase only being held back thanks to the pain. By the time my legs started to be pulled, I almost believed that I developed a slight immunity to this kind of pain. But just almost.

That's when I realized that they were being pulled together. Just the connection point from one leg alone was already much larger than that of an arm, but both together?! Would it rip off more than just my legs? I could sense the struggle to rip them off. Why are you trying to rip both of them off at once? You can't exactly twist them off and it makes it harder to grip. Please just hurry up and get it over with. I still haven't regained my sight or hearing yet, however I'm sure it's better this way. At least I wouldn't need to see my body being mutilated.

I first felt how my hip was dislocated with a satisfying double pop and an excessive amount of crunches as my legs were twisted, and turned, and brutally crushed. Why are my legs so st.u.r.dy? How can it be so much harder to rip some legs off compared to an arm? I hadn't lost one bit of feeling and could sense how bone shards pierced my leg from the inside. At that moment I was heavily slammed into the ground, mainly due to gravity as it seems my body was dropped. It finally gave up trying to rip my legs off. Why didn't it finish the job? That would have guaranteed my death but now I at least still have some time left to think.

Based on my a.n.a.lysis I must have been captured and drugged causing my consciousness to hallucinate. I might have also been poisoned leading to my capture and the hallucinations were caused by this poison. As soon as I came to they must have already finished what they wanted and decided to kill me. But that wouldn't explain how they could grab my torso with one hand. That just isn't possible, unless it wasn't human. Maybe I'm the irregular one with an abnormally small body. Well it doesn't matter who wanted to kill me now that I'm going to die, but I would love to know what kind of mythical drugs can induce such a feeling and if I just imagined those last words. I guess this is the end and I will never be able to find out who you were Jelly. Live well.

Then right as Death was about to welcome me into his embrace, I heard another voice. This time one that was definitely male however slightly childish. It felt too normal and actually scared me. "We're nearing the end, be careful." I wasn't sure if I should respond, but I didn't need to decide as I had already died.