My Severed Arm (Halloween Daisy Chain)
I woke up one morning and noticed that my arm was missing. There it was, limp and detached, left at the door. Surrounded by a horde of flies and wasps, ready to feast on its new meal.
Suddenly the fingers wiggled. The nails scratching against the wood, desperate to escape. The door began to bleed as the scratching became more frequent.
As if suddenly noticing my wakefulness, the fingers ceased their frantic scratching, instead anchoring themselves against the door frame to swing their attached arm towards me.
It had no eyes, but it knew me. I could feel fear well up within me.
The bleeding door shattered into a thousand deadly shards that embedded themselves everywhere. The smoke consumed the room, and me with it. Except I no longer existed. All that existed was pain.
I knew I had to fight it off. There was no way in hell I would be killed by my own arm. So I gathered my strength and wrestled this traitorous piece of flesh off me. But the arm was clever. It went below my leg, and made a '9' shape.
'Shit!' I said, 'I got caught! I can't fight back!' The arm proceeded to punch me repeatedly.
'Unhand me this instant!' I shouted, and received another punch for that terrible pun; I felt my body giving up as it too realised how awful that pun was, and thus surrendered me to my further punishment.
My mind accepted my fate wholeheartedly and with as much dignity as I could muster. Yes, I was about to die because my arm thought it funny to kill me. I highly doubt anyone ever imagined this as a way to slip from the world. Any last thoughts, Tegan?
Then I had an idea. I shoved a shoe into its palm, and it grabbed it. Now it was holding something, it couldn't move around. But it slipped into the shoe and proceeded to kick me furiously.
I put the arm into the closet and locked the door. It stays there until this day.