It first started with the toaster. I remembered the situation clear as day.
Cold, hard wood woke me up. My trousers sagged from me tossing and turning up a storm, but it couldn’t explain why I was in such a peculiar position. Surprised at my predicament, I tried to get back up, slipping against the floor and faceplanting on the freshly waxed floorboards. The plastic and metal toaster clattered against the ground and I hit my head again. Throwing the toaster off my meat Excalibur, I wondered how in Sam Hell I ended up in this situation.
Rubbing my head and searching for any lumps, I take in my surroundings. The bedsheets were ruffled and sagging on the right side. My pillow had fallen on the floor with a clear footprint on its pure white casing. It laid just by one of the rungs. But what stuck out the most were the faint traces of grey residue that were left behind my footprints. They were bright and stuck out so vividly, one would think I’d walked through a mud pot barefoot.
“What the hell happened last night? I have classes today, so I obviously wouldn’t have gone partying and booze-bending the night before…”
Waking up in unusual places wasn’t uncommon. Afterall, I was a sleepwalker.
Though, this felt off.
Normally, when this happened, I would walk a handful of steps and then conk out like an AT-AT Walker with its legs tied up. Never once have I fooled around with objects during these episodes. Was this some kind of prank? If so, then who would do such a thing? My hometown was far from the nearest metropolitan area and there were only around twenty-five hundred residents where I lived. Most of my acquaintances were at the university I attended and nobody I knew would pull off such a stunt.
After standing in silence for a few minutes, I laughed my ass off, clutching a wall in my fit. “This is going to be one hilarious story to tell the guys at class!” I declared. “At least the damn thing wasn’t plugged in!”
Rattle, rattle, rattle…It came from the toaster. I pulled the toaster up to my eye, inspecting the slits for the source. In one of the steel meshwork locks was a blob about the size of a quarter, pacing around in the cranny like a lion in a cage. I take metal box and dump the little guy out, which plopped on the countertop squirming around and investigating the new sensation of Formica.
Wiry hair stuck out on its shiny, greasy grey surface, making it resemble the contents of dozens of blackheads squashed together and mixed with water. Chopped up and chewed fingernail pieces tapped against the table and fell off the mass. Each inch it crawled left behind a foggy white stain that ate into the countertop, leaving rising steam behind.
My brief joy was now gone.
I grabbed a plastic spoon, trying to pick it up. All the spoon did was melt, leaving behind a corroded black stub. What kind of substance was it excreting? Some kind of acid?
I was not going to touch whatever that was. This time grabbing a stronger spoon, I scooped up the nasty stuff, chucking it into the toilet, and rushed to the laundry room to grab some bleach. Before I could pour the chemicals inside, it was already making its way down the pipes and trying to escape the inevitable onslaught of cleaning chemicals. At once, I dumped the bleach right on the porcelain until it was near overflowing.
“I feel sorry for any rat that tries to climb up here.” I mumbled, pulling the lever down and flushing the toilet.
Once that was done, I snatched the keys to my car, heading off for the day. As I left the driveway, I pondered where that greasy living blob came from and what exactly it was.
-–
The following day, I wound up in the kitchen again, this time with a potted plant stuck on my crotch. Every inch of the meat stick was caked in dirt, making it resemble a reverse chocolate éclair. I threw off the ceramic pot on the ground; a knot developed in my throat. Slithering out of the soil came another sentient pile of grease, around the size of a baseball.
Sweat formed on my forehead in marbles. I froze. The slime would always come out of objects that my dick was stuck in.
“Did that thing just crawl out of me?” I ask myself. Taking the squirming bastard, I snatch it up with some tweezers, hoping I don’t wouldn’t drop the toxic mass on me. Right as I headed to the office, two moist grey handprints spontaneously formed on the walls with a saturated splat. The fluids remained behind the drywall, leaving only a colored outline. They slid down with janky, sloppy movements. I spun around, rushing over to investigate, only for the gluey fluids to seep back into the walls.
THUD! Handprints and liquified arms swung down from the roof like clock pendulums right on the office window. They squeaked against the outside glass, breaking the bug screen and leaving nothing but grey semisolid lumps behind.
I search for the source of the handprints, sticking my head outside, scanning the roof and garden.
Nothing was there.
SPLAT! The next nauseating noise came from the inside of the bedroom’s drywall, right between the hardwood beams. It repeated multiple times in rhythmic fashion, spreading across the room in a uniform fashion until the acidic grease completely dissolved the plaster. All at once, the walls crashed onto the ground, exposing the insulation and pipes on the inside.
My stomach knotted when I saw what was on the PVC.
Clumps of dead skin, hair, and what I thought was clay pulsed and beat like live organs, excreting that same oily substance. Water jettisoned out with the power and heat of a dragon’s breath, sending black fluid flying from the eaten pipes. I covered my face with my arm. It was a miracle that none of the acid sprinkled on me.
Hisssssssss…Rotten egg stenches wafted throughout my tiny house. Then, a pleasant feeling came across me. A look of blissful stupidity fell on my face, leaving my eyes droopy and limp like dead fish. My arms and legs filled with the weight of mercury and before I knew it, I was already on the floor. I tried to keep my eyes open, trying to figure out why I suddenly felt so sleepy.
Wispy prisms rose from the drain trap in the sink and the oven.
A gas leak.
Out came crawling the sentient skin mass, dragging some newly acquired keratinous material with it and coating the floor with a smell like that of gelatin mixed with skunk musk. I drifted off on the kitchen floor, the last feeling washing over me being something dragging me by my leg across the smooth floor.
-–
My eyes shot open when cold metal jumpstarted my nerves and woke me back up. Rushing water gurgled against the sides of concrete guides and left roads of stink in its pathway.
A storm sewer.
Outside from some old, flickering lights, the occasional rat and some washed up carcasses of possums and raccoons, the passageways were empty. Water parted against countless bars, leaving behind sliced up skins of blackened red and green. Flies feasted on the algae, laying eggs by the billions until the muck was shimmering with living dewdrops.
A sledgehammer of pain landed on my crotch. When I looked down, it was swollen three times its size, splotched a faded purple. Veins bulged outwards, slithering under the now paper-thin membrane that once was my epidermis, spraying out a mixture of semen, mucus, urine, and pus. Wincing in pain, I bit down on my shirt. Second by second, my dick beat faster, and faster, and faster.
Stringy shadows loomed over my helpless body. The weight of my legs was too great for me to overcome. Earthen and biomechanical pincers seized me up from the floor, grinding into my skin with serrated edges. With all my upper body strength, I scratched at the ground, trying to escape their greasy gelatinous grasp. The pain against my dick was too great; I wasn’t able hang to the concrete surface for long. They pulled me up against the left wall. The clay and keratinous paste surrounded my body and pressed me up against the wall harder and harder.
The sticky substance forced me back farther. The pulsing and writhing of my crotch grew to unbearable levels and I scream bloody murder. Bodily fluids sprayed out everywhere, sending the steaming mixture flying onto the smelly cement and scum.
Then, it burst.
My threshold of pain reached its maximum at that moment, leaving nothing but a shredded, gaping hole by my crotch. Remnants of fatty tissue, urine duct tubing, and veins splatted against the floor, sliding along the muck like crimson spaghetti. Not long after, the semisolid material retreated, releasing its grip and jumping straight for the bodily discharge left behind, where it siphoned it up as if it were food particles in the path of an amoeba.
As I clenched the remains of my crotch, the hairy slime started to bend and congeal on itself. First, it formed two arms and legs, almost making it resemble a melting mannequin. Then along came the head and torso, taking the shape of a crippled, malformed woman. Her skin consisted of fused ripped fingernails that cracked and snapped with every distorted, jolting movement she made.
Slosh, slosh, slosh…Several other remnants of semen and other sexual organs were brought along from blobs of skin where they promptly were absorbed into her body.
A succubus.
Right as the last drop of semen entered her body, she dropped to the ground in a predator’s stance, snapping her head upside down and stretching her mouth several times its original length, spawning in eight spider legs from the tongue.
“99% complete. Need more flesh…” It moaned, shooting out with another pincer, clicking as it scuttled towards me with the force of a freight train.
I pulled back on my pants, darting off into the sewers. With each step I took, the razor pincers kept raining down on me, cracking the concrete below. I screamed as the hole in my crotch painfully opened and closed with my gait.
The path led to a hard left. The river of scum had diverged long before. Thank goodness I didn’t have to worry about those flies getting in my way. Handprints slammed against the side of the archways that made up the sewers. All of them shot out of the galloping, demonic mass. Their force grew more desperate the closer I was to the succubus.
Then, my pathway split to a T. I took the left side first, only for an array of metal bars to block my path. Arms reached out from behind the barrier, grabbing my arms and legs and stretching me out. I gritted my teeth in agony. Before she could take a chunk of my flesh, I broke free by some miracle, taking the other path.
My route split again; I took another right.
Countless turns later, I seemingly lost it, coming across a basin filled with a whirlpool of the nasty muck swirling down into a segment of pipe no more than three feet in diameter. It sucked down the dewdrops of fly eggs as if they were caviar trays at one of those fancy sushi restaurants.
My attention turned to the pathways that opened in front of me. Each were a hundred meters in each direction, led by a chute that guided gathering rainwater. I could faintly hear storm clouds rumbling way past the concrete guides. The smile on my face vanished when the pain from the remains of my ruptured penis throttled through the front of my pelvis.
Crackle…Stringy shadows loomed over the front of the rightmost tunnel. Plopping and splattering from the grates on top was that same succubus, this time charging at full speed. It skated across the moist ground, leaving behind trails of rotten fingernails and hair.
Hands getting clammy, I ran down the middle path. Handprints formed down the sides of the chambers, coating the pathway with a barrier of waste and muck.
“Dammit!” I shouted. I took the left and final path, only for more of the pus-filled pincers to drop down from above and block my way.
Looking back the way I came, another wall of clay and skin blocked it.
With my feet getting heavier in my shoes, I looked down into the abyss. My head thrashed all around, searching for any possible exits. Everything in sight was covered in the layer of muck.
I hyperventilated, the hole in the epicenter glaring at me. This was a storm sewer, the pipe had to lead to a body of water at some point.
I pulled out my phone, trying to obtain a signal. To my luck, I was right by a river.
No. There had to be some other exits. I looked around once more. The acid-secreting clay and skin crept towards me, bubbling and hissing. The succubus was just some lengths away, its back hunched over in a pounce.
Making the sign of the cross and turning off my phone, I jumped into the aquatic maelstrom. Right as I caught the air, her hands missed me by inches and I plummeted into the freezing, dirty waters.
The succubus let out a furious shriek as the whirlpool devoured me and morphed my eyesight into a nebula of snot green and oil black. Concrete tubbing rubbed the skin off my elbows and knees; the current bashed and spun and contorted me every which way in my claustrophobic escape path. If I had a dollar for the number of times I slammed into the sides, I would have enough money to buy the universe.
Carbon dioxide scratched at the inside of my lungs and trachea. I gurgled in desperation, hoping that I was near land. Bubbles formed around my head and my vision twisted into a slurry of random colors.
At the moment of passing out, the tubing came to the end and spat me out like a bratty kid with broccoli. The muddy beach collided with my chest in a cold bearhug. Gasping for air, I hoisted myself up, coughing out water.
I took in my surroundings. Skyscrapers tore through the clouds while cars, metro trains, and people bustled through the streets.
This was in the city, way far off from my house.
I ran towards the nearest shelter. Not far off was a small park with a pavilion for picnic tables. Waddling over clumsily from the weight of the mud on my back, I headed away from the storm, covering my chest with my arms.
I took out my phone, dried it off for a few minutes and turned it back on. Somehow, it still worked. Immediately, I called a taxi, looking back at the sewer I came out of.
-–
Now as I write this, I don’t know what I just created, where it came from, or what will happen if it is fed anymore semen. But it would be best to avoid the sewers until I figure it out. To put it simply, that humanoid mass of skin is not dicking around, pun not intended.