Through My Own Dead Eyes

Avatar Author: Michael Lawton Read Bio

I remember the first time I got drunk, how I remained lucid and aware but unable to stop acting like an idiot. It was like my brain became disconnected from the rest of my body.

It’s the same feeling now. Since I woke up, it’s like I’m a passenger in my own body. I can see, hear, think… but I can’t control myself. I try to talk, but all I can get out are incoherent moans. I try to go somewhere, get help, but all I do is shuffle randomly. I try to sleep, but all I do is hunger.

The first time I fed, it was like living through a the worst horror movie of my life. I couldn’t stop, couldn’t even turn away or close my eyes. I had to see the terror in that girl’s eyes as I grabbed and bit and tore her to pieces. I had to taste it.

There are hundreds more around like me. Maybe thousands. Every once in a while as we stumble around like broken wind-up toys I look into the eyes of another. Past the gore, past the rotting flesh, I see a tiny glimmer of something like me, trapped, crying for help.

View this story's details


Oh no! This story doesn't have a prequel. Want to fill in the blanks and write one?


Oh no! This story doesn't have a sequel. Want to fill in the blanks and write one?


Get the conversation started! All you have to do is Sign In and you can post your comment.

Not yet a member of our fun little community? It's cool, Joining Ficly is fast, fun, and easy!

This story's tags are