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Perpetual Pariah - by Elobo

Perpetual Pariah




Explorers in the Agrilla Pass are often beset by a strange creature of palpable self-loathing. The oral tradition of Agrillan survivor descendants mentions a creature composed of the negative energies the civil war and slaughter left deep-rooted in the land. A creature of anger was born as spirits who could not find a host, and were bound eternal to that cursed place, coalesced at one point. At first it was furious that it could not leave the Pass to fulfill its desires. Then, the contrasting points of sorrow of the many that made the whole caused self-doubt withi the creature. The more it tried to leave, the more impotent it felt. It felt more and more helpless, more and more anguish. Years of isolation made it a wreck of pure emotion. An empath feeding of the negativity of others, welcoming all pain they bring. It is irreproachably twisted into feeling pathetic and it is cursed to remain that way forever. Even though it accepts defeat, the pull of the land is too strong – it comes back. But the words is speaks… are these its own or is it reflecting your innermost sorrow and fear? Is it merely giving your most crushing emotions form?



Other Submissions by Elobo

Author Sort Ascending Sort Descending Title Sort Ascending Sort Descending Description Sort Ascending Sort Descending Date Sort Ascending Sort Descending Rank Sort Ascending Sort Descending
Elobo Tales of the Urban Zombie
You sigh. How long has it been since you were safe in your own house watching that zombie movie marathon? Now we see bitter irony wrought in the screaming flesh of undeath. Every instinct tells you that you should feel cold, lifeless. But you are overwhelmed by malice for the human race, and a lust for violence. You slam your fists against the walls of your butchered psyche as you and your canine partner close in on some humans. But nobody is listening to you. Your body is on autopilot. You are broken, you relent, you convert. You are theirs now.
4/24/09 8.00
Elobo My Mindless Friend
My life… my everything… it used to be at the bottom of the bottle. We were not scientists, we were assembly line workers. It didn’t matter how useful our abominations were, as long as they were present. So I found solace in a melange of liquors hard and brutal. As I pulled my blood soaked arms out of its gaping cranium, my heart was heavy. The brain was wired, the switch was flipped. It stared at me, blankly, for nearly five minutes. Then it smiled, and hung on my every word with unflinching adoration. Was this unconditional love? No, there was a dire condition: lobotomization. But I needed something to grab hold of to haul myself out of the pit of this despair. This seems to be working. Hmm, I’ll feel terrible about him down the road? You know what? Whatever.
11/28/09 8.00

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