Flatus – A Duel Existence…
By Ken Stewart (copyright 2009)
My name is Lowend...
By day, I lead a very ordinary existence working in the parts department at the Chrysler plant, down town...
My work is mundane in the extreme; soul destroying, mind numbing tedium!
I often question myself ‘Is this all I was put here for? To rake over the same old arguments, "why has this order, why has that order, why has the order for the cam belts failed to be delivered, again; re-threading the paper in the same dreaded dot matrix printer, again; dealing with the boss who JUST-WILL-NOT-GET-OFF-MY-BACK, again and again and again…’
Oh how I am cursed...
I suffer all the indignities the Gods choose to throw at me; this failing body a travesty of what could be; dealing with fools and imbeciles, dolts and ignoramuses that think they know what it is to live; but I know there is more to life than this…
I lead a second life, a life I yearn to live, where… I… belong…
I have tried to leave this travesty of a life behind me and live my dream that is not a dream, but I keep being returned, to this!
Ohh to sleep, perchance to dream… to die, perhaps to live… for when I dream... ohh when I dream, I… am… free…
I am called Flatus… Flatus the Asphiaxtor…
The Gods spared nothing when they created me… eleven crechs of hard muscle and sinew, a brow ridge as hard as the Iron… Rock… itself, a flame red mane, eyes as sharp as the Arak… ohh… and how I am endowed; the merest sight of it slipping out from beneath my battle fnarg has sent many a Cruch-Pach fleeing for fear of their very life…
But what I live and breathe for, is my weapon, my instrument of destruction, my CHRYSLOBAN...
Skribsonan has an edge that can cut a Sarg asunder in a single pass; over six crechs in length, it vibrates to the touch; like all of its kin it has a life of its own; it glows with it; it lives for battle, for destruction; it must be fed, fed on blood, on the blood of the Cruch-Pach!
My Crysloban awaits feeding now, for I am about to enter the realm of Thrak; the obscenity that describes itself as Ruler of all it surveys! Well, after today, when I have separated the single cell it calls a brain from its bulk, it will survey nothing, save for the lining of my stomach, where its eyes will lie, after the feasting…
And now Chrysloban, to battle...
With another victory assured, and the feast completed, I chose a wench from those that entertained us, to bed for my own delight. I dragged her, screaming, to Thrak’s own chambers; its body still quivering from where I threw it from the battlements, after the necessary removals…
She feared for her life when she saw what she was about to receive, but she was a good match, a capable wench; skilled in many of the old ways…
Once we had completed the rituals I allowed her to stay with me; a moment’s comfort as I relaxed, her breasts an ample place to rest my head...
Suddenly, I awoke; body drenched in sweat; the smell of battle, feasting and debauchery still upon me…
I know that this is wrong…
I feel it instinctively…
I should not be here; I belong there, not here!
I live for the night; for when I can return, to live, as Flatus!
I am known as Flatus the Asphyxiator.
I live a life ruled by violence, mayhem, butchery, rape and pillaging, but I am a sensitive soul, trapped in this barbarian’s body.
I know this to be true, for when I sleep, I dream about automobiles...
Lowend - the real secret to a good modification of this story is having personal knowledge or access to details - tried to find your name and details but too many postings and drew a blank, somewhat like Tony's... Uwe was easy - lots of detail to find...
Whos Next...? (good album, that one...)
