The House of Eye-Gouging Horror

(Rated R. Serious Warning-There really is some disturbing stuff in this one-shot that made me even sick to my stomach)



This is not my own work. It was found written on toilet paper at a Mental Institution where my mother works



Once…

There was a house.

But this was no ordinary house.

Though it looked like just another old fallen apart house on the sloping hill, there was something horrible in that house.

Something so terrible…so horrific…even the mere descriptions of the things slithering through the cracked floorboards would make your eyes slowly melt, like a warm trickle of acid. Ever since entering that horrific place, I have been stuck in this prison. The prison of the white walls. My mind is lost; in this brief respite of sanity I write my tale. For eternities I shall smolder in the fiery inferno of the underworld for spreading such a plague among man. But I must tell this story. For what is in that house is only a taste of what is coming to man.

I must warn you not to proceed if you are weak of stomach or cold of genitalia.

Dare ye to still read on, knowing the horrors that lay ahead?

You are indeed a brave soul.


It was a cold All Hallows Eve. I was a simple peddler traveling throughout the land, selling spoons to make my meager living. No woman would marry me and bear my children; I had no family to send money to. It was a dull process of sell, visit The House of Helga, and return to selling once more. Alas, I had not seen the garish doors of the good house for months. A dark age had overcome the spoon business.

Clutching my patched coat closely by my side, I marched toward the hill at the end of the road. I heard whispers of the hill and the rumored beastly inhabitant in my brief stay at the Town Inn. I needed to sell fifty spoons in order to be able to eat for the next week; I cared not about silly mutterings. Any house was a potential home to a couple of shillings.

And so, the frost nipping my bare neck and ankles, I walked to the front of the hill and looked up onto the growling monstrosity. A long path, crudely paved with grimy building materials, winding from the fallen black gate led into the very house itself. The house itself was not all that bad looking. Sure, a few windows were boarded up, the white lead paint was peeling off, and the torn up rocking chair on the porch creaked ominously. But it was still was better than anything Gehry could do.

Unfazed by the foreboding atmosphere, I walked into that trail. Towards the house. That cursed house.

There was no doorbell. I gently knocked on the cracked chamber door. It looked like a simple rapping would cause it to crumble into a million tiny fragments. And of course, it turned out to be open, creaking ever-so-slightly ajar. Unsure what to do, I waited a few moments before the door was pulled back harshly, revealing the beastly inhabitant within.

It was an Asian.

No, that was not the horror that lay within. It was a simply a frightening sight. He barely stood up to my chest, looking up at me with his sharply slanted eyes and buck-toothed smile. He looked to be around fifty years old and wore a lab coat. A calculator protruded from his pocket. He looked like any other Asian man at the Math and Science Convention, but there was a particular aura about this man, that made him particularly different. Something…evil.

"Harrow, what is it?"

"Umm…konichewa mister," I started with a pathetic bow. "I be pale-face man, selling spoon. Not barbaric chop stick, but spoon! Take much food with one scoop. Two for tree darraw!"

"I speak Engrish fine! I live in country thirddy years. Come in and we talk! I make you tea!" he replied, dampening me with his spit. Reluctantly, I walked in. It was better than having the door slammed in my race. I mean…face.

And so I entered the creepy home, only to find that the inside was relatively pleasant compared to the cruddy outside. Straight ahead was a rather pleasantly carpeted stairway and to either side there was a room full of fancy furniture. However, there were no lights. It was quite dark, lit only by a few candles and kerosene lamps. I had the impression there was no electricity whatsoever in this house. Or that perhaps it was all reserved for another area of the house…

"Come, sit down on so-fah!" he mumbled, gesturing me toward one of the leather sofas in the living room. Sitting down with my bag of spoons firmly on my lap, I waited as he wandered off to his kitchen, the boiling of water heard in the distance. Patiently drumming my fingers, I heard gentle music playing as I focused more. Probably Mozart.

Then, it began.

It was a quick movement. A mere shadow in the corner of my eye.

I simply brushed it off as a trick of my mind at the time, but despite this, my grip on the bag of spoons grew tighter. The minutes passed, and the faint smell of green tea fluttered into my nostrils along with the screeching of a Japanese song.

"Ho chi mihn shamu toy yo ta…kas sume hen tai…"

Singing softly under his breath, the Asian man returned into the room, carrying no tea with him. He sat on the arm chair across from me and surveyed me with a small, curling smile. My blood suddenly chilled.

"I aporogize for the wait. Haruka ruined the first batch of tea and ish now making new tea. So, tell me 'bout dose foons."

"Oh…of course! I offer a wide variety of spoons from the highly advanced Scooper 2000 to the simple old Knifey-Spoony. Currently we have a Fall sale going for an all purpose spoon set for the mere price of…"

And so I went on with my dull, rehearsed presentation of spoon sales, showing him different models and demonstrating on a fresh batch of air juice. Of course, I was determined on selling at the time, my knicker-boxers quietly pleading for the House of Helga, and because of this determination, I did not seem to notice the day-dreaming haze in the Asian man's eyes. Probably because they were barely visible.

But the most important thing was that he was not paying attention. Just feigning interest, trying to get me to stay in the house as long as he could. I suppose I can see now that he wanted me there, that it wasn't an accident that I saw what I saw. He wanted to see the horrified face of one man. He wanted a taster for what was to come. The sick bastard.

Halfway into my demonstrating the usage of the standardized metal spoon, the shadow came again, much more clearly and scurrying through the room.

"Okay! What was that?"

"Oh, it just Mufawyong. MUFAWYONG! COME HEE WE HAVE VISITAW!"

Then, the first horror came.

Mufawyong came crawling from the dining room and slowly into the light. It was a pokemon! But I had never seen this pokemon before…or had I? It was a plump snake of sorts, though the most non-threatening snake I had ever seen in my life. It gleamed as if it were made of solid gold, though it had a shining blue underside. The only remotely prominent feature on this pokemon's body was its drill-like tail which quivered ominously on its end. I was almost sure that it was a Dunsparce, a rather rare pokemon that was occasionally hunted for rather naughty uses. But…it was no ordinary Dunsparce. It had…a golden blonde flip and black sunglasses.

"What's up with this Dunsparce?" I asked, staring down at the strange thing. It was taking refuge behind the Asian man's tiny legs.

"NOT DUNSHSPARCE! IT MUFAWYONG!"

"Uhh, sorry. What's up with this Mufawyong?"

"It everution of Dunsparce!"

"Sorry…what?"

"EVERRUTION! I ERVORVE DUNSPARCE INTO MUFAWYONG!"

"That's…not….an…evolution. You just gave a Dunsparce a blonde wig and sunglasses," I riposted in spite of myself, lifting up my glasses to look even closer at the pokemon.

"It arso have a new shpot on back," the Asian man cried triumphantly, pointing to a dot no bigger than a dime on the Duns—Mufawyong's—back. After this, the strange evolution scurried off into the darkness. My perplexity was unmatched. We looked at each other again, the atmosphere considerably colder than before. The ends of the Asian's mans cold lips curled up into that malevolent smile once more.

"So, what arbout the Kirring Spoon?"

"Are you some sort of pokemon genetist?" I had to know or else the curiosity would torment me for the rest of time. Oh, how I wished I simply let curiosity do what that man did to me now.

"Yesh. I make new everrution for pocket monstah!" he announced triumphantly, his eyes blazing with that same wicked aura.

"I…see…" I really didn't want to pursue to matter any further. But he wouldn't grant that desire.

A strong whistling sound came from the kitchen he was in earlier. "Oh! Haruka must be ready with the tea!" The Asian man cried, looking towards the kitchen with jubilance. There was something fishy about that moment. It took Haruka nearly fifteen minutes to make tea for two.

A piercing feeling in my naval slowly turned my head towards the dark room that connected the living room and kitchen as the sound of footsteps grew larger. Then, Haurka stepped into the light, holding two cups of tea in two of its six arms.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Throwing my spoons wildly out of my hand, I screamed. And I screamed. The sight of that….thing…was unbearable. It was clearly his alternate evolution of a Machoke. But it was…female. She—or should I say it—wore bright pink lipstick and had her short, puffy hair in curls, but other than that, her face looked exactly the same as a Machamp's. Testosterone still clearly flooded her veins in those huge, bulging arms, in that massive eight-pack, in those trunk-like thighs. It was a crime against nature. Women are supposed to be dainty, tiny, and pretty, not beasts loaded with steroids and wearing a pink frilly maid skirt! As I sat there, my legs pushed up to my chest, pointing and screaming at the horrible sight, I noticed something even more terrifying. She wore a sports bra.

"Meet Mamirriondarrawbaby!" the Asian man exclaimed, pointing out his horrific creation with a loud cackle. Oh, that horrible cackle. Like the grinding of razor-sharp gears in the Seel Juice Factory. The monster took a step towards me, still determined to give me that tea. I didn't want to be within a few feet of that THING!

I leapt from the couch and I ran. I didn't know where I wanted to go; I just wanted to get away as far as possible. That evil Asian man had brought me into his home to showcase his dark creations, crimes against Mew herself. Oh Mew, how many MORE of those things were in the house?

I initially ran for the door, but that stupid excuse of a Dunsparce evolution was standing guard by it. Though I could have easily kicked it aside, I didn't want to stop running, so I simply ran up the wooden stairs, screeching for my life. The biggest mistake of my pathetic life.

There were five doors in the upstairs floor. An attic too. I chose the door right in front of me. To this day, I wonder what was in those other rooms. Were they as horrific as what was in the room I ran in? Was it possible to be as horrific as what was in the room within?

It took me an entire night to write this line. I knew I had to write it before I went insane once more, but the mere thought of what was inside would easily snap me back into psychosis. My friends…brace yourself for what is coming next.

The room I entered was pitch-black, I hadn't moved, simply slammed the door behind me and crouched in front of it, quietly sobbing. Then, there was light. A figure began to shine from within the room, most likely using flash. I should have realized it was another of the professor's evolutions and ran for it then, but a mystical force seemed to have kept me in place. The shining white figure walked slowly towards me, still unrecognizable but strangely familiar looking. By the time it was five feet away, I could see it clearly.

"JYM….BO."

I will spare you the horrifying description.

It was—

—a male Jynx.

….
…………….
………………………….

I deeply apologize for bestowing such a terrible image in your head. Do not imagine any further! It will only drive you to this prison like it drove me. Sometimes at night I still see the atrocity, smiling gently at me, holding out its hand. No eloquent words could describe the terror that consumed me that moment. Even terror is like describing a Gyarados as a Hoppip.

My mind is a haze over the next few moments. I simply remember running through the door and making a break for the door, but the staircase was on fire! Those dancing, spirals of crimson flames, slowly devouring my means of escape. Did the Asian man think he could keep me trapped up here? It took only a split-second to make my decision.

Shrieking in a gallant war cry, I ran down those stairs. Through the fire. Despite what my scars may say, it did not hurt too much. I was frozen with terror and the blaze simply tickled me as I bolted through it, the wooden stairs crumbling behind me. As I reached the bottom, horribly burned and in searing pain, I was struck with a blunt object in the back of my head. Giving a soft "oh", I fell to the ground, dazed and confused, but not quite unconscious. I was kicked over to face the ceiling and four faces glared down at me. The Asian Man, the Dunsparce-evolution, the Mamirriondarrawbaby, and a new pokemon that most likely set the stairs aflame. It was a Houndoom evolution, except all it had was a flowing blue cape and a triangular enigma sewed onto its chest bearing the letter "H". After what I had just experienced, it was nothing.

My eyes lolled over to the Asian Man who continued to cackle his hideous cackle, holding a frying pan in his hand. My stomach dropped low and I gave out a slight gasp. No Asian possessed the muscles to almost knock out a man! Except for, of course, Jackie Chan.

"Har Har Har! Behold!" I watched in horror as the Asian Man slowly removed the mask that was his face. With an awful squelching, the mask came off, revealing the true identity of the Asian Man.

It was a black man.

Though not the type of black you're thinking of, he was literally black. Black as shadows. If I hadn't seen what I seen before, I would have probably screamed at this beast too, but nothing could compare to You-Know-What. His eye sockets were simple holes dug into his scale-like skin, though tiny blue flames hovered in them. His thin hair was swarming in tiny, squealing maggots that slowly slipped off and struck my torso as he leaned over me. What repulsed me most was his mouth. Like his eyes, it was a simple hole with a vertical row of jagged teeth and dripping with rancid, yellow saliva.

"Well, well, well, what do you think of my creations?" the demon asked with a chilling voice that caused the flames on the stairs that was about to approach us to freeze in their path.

I couldn't bring myself to speak. I averted my eyes from his foul mouth and tried to close my mind, bracing myself for my surely impeding death. His cackling turning into a low chuckle, he gripped my face with his cold, clammy hands and forced me to face him.

"Heheh. Don't bother talking, I can see into your pitiful human mind. I will not kill you; I want to enjoy your suffering at the hands of my creations. For you see, I am the pokemon of the Abyss, a creature whose sheer physical power could bring Apocalypse in a mere second, but I am a creature of mind. I want to slowly torment the world, driving it into insanity and ruin, rather than flame and destruction. None can stop me!"

I suddenly regained control of myself and lunged towards him, desperately trying to vanquish him somehow, but the burns got to the best of me, and I stopped halfway through howling in pain. The pokemon and the creature of abyss all pointed and laughed at my lame attempt. Tears of putrid acid dropped from the creature's eye sockets, melting through the ground only a few inches away from my groin. He was hysterical, clutching his stomach attempting to control himself. When he finally stopped, he spoke once more.

"So I arose from the Abyss disguised as an Asian man, planning to unleash the first wave of my new plan for destruction. I created poorly designed evolutions of pokemon and released them into the wild only a mere week ago, only to bring disappointment to the hearts of millions of pokemon trainers. Of course, no true dark creature seeks disappointment as a goal. It is the mere first step on the spiraling staircase to despair that humanity has just entered. Oh, how I eagerly wait! Mothers will roast their infants in ovens, the children of the playground will throw each other from the Jungle Gym, men bathe in glass, and the elderly will eat their own powdered feces!" the creature declared with orgasmic delight.

I felt so helpless, a Caterpie against a Salamence.

"Did you see my beasts in this house? They are going to be released next, permanently scarring thousands for life. I eagerly await to see them sniveling like the little coward you are now…"

"You…bastard…"

He stomped down on my chest, rage etched on every line of his face. "I am no bastard! I am the son of Darkness itself! HARUKA!"

The female Machamp who I had tried to flee from in the first place gripped me by the neck with one excessively soft hand. Bringing my numb self to her face, she kicked open the door to the house and tossed me like a simple ball down the hill, where I crashed in a heap of broken bones at the entrance. I never looked back.

There, I lay sprawled, my skin charred, my bones shattered, and my soul torn. What I had seen in that house would never leave me. My mind came to a peaceful bliss. I vomited. Memories drowning me in a rush, I vomited and continued to vomit, never stopping. I don't know how much weight I lost, with the puddles of lumpy, yellow puke ejaculating from my mouth. After nearly ten minutes, I was finished, what little of my energy remaining having now dribbled on my chin and drenching my garments. Only one terminus was on my mind now, get away from the house. My legs too broken to move, I slowly crawled with my burned arms, searing with pain with every time I dragged my helpless body an inch. It took me all night, but I had successfully crawled down the path until the presence of the house was no longer breathing down my neck.

I slept.

When I woke up, it was well into the morning. I had come to peace with what happened the night before. I was free. I would never go to the house again. The creature was bluffing; surely there were no evolutions like the ones that were in the house roaming our forests right now. I felt a weight in my pocket. It was a spoon.

Oh, the spoon. The spoon had brought this fate onto me. The spoon would heal me.

I lifted the spoon up to my face. It was a simple, metal spoon. Giving a sigh of relief, I took the spoon and stabbed it into my eye socket. I slowly scooped it down the soft flesh of my scarred eyes and dug deeper, hoping to sever that silly little string of flesh connecting it to my head. It was a difficult, painful process. It got stuck a few centimeters in, so I pounded down on it until it plummeted straight down. I took a break for a few seconds, blood and fluids quietly tearing down my cheeks. With three triumphant heaves, I pulled the spoon out and raised my poor aching eye until it bulged out of my socket. Clutching it with one hand, I tore it out, ending its misery.

I did the same for the second eye.


And so that's what lies within the house. It is my duty as a man to warn my brothers of what awaits us. In the words of the creature, "This is the mere first step on the spiraling staircase to despair that humanity has just entered." Be vigilant my friends, with the forging of these new, terrible beasts, mankind has entered into Apocalypse. I fear the premonitions of the creature will come to pass, but I also remember the power of humanity and its powers when united.

Stand together my friends, and somehow, we will overcome this Apocalypse. Perhaps when it ends, we will enter into Eden once more. I do not know. All I know is that I was the only man to know of what lies within the house. But now by the power of my words, we all share the same burdens upon our shoulders. Do not do to your eyes what I did to mine, for you will need them for the quest laying ahead.

Stop the creature of the Abyss.

Save our world.