's 2013 Horror Write-off:

" Blockage "

Submitted by Miranda Johansson

You woke up at four, feeling like the most pitiful creature in the world: you had been sick for a week now, and your cold was showing no sign of letting up. Your nose was completely blocked, and because you had been breathing through your mouth instead, your throat was as dry as a desert wasteland. You reached out for the water glass next to the bed with a feeble hand, only to find it already empty.

For a while you honestly couldn't tell how long you floated on the edge of consciousness, too uncomfortable to go back to sleep, too fatigued to wake up fully. Even at the best of times, you didn't deal well with waking up at four in the morning, and this sudden cold was just the icing on the cake.

Your head throbbed, felt stuffy from the phlegm. You had delirious fantasies, almost sexual in their intensity, about going to the bathroom and blowing your nose, all that blockage coming out in a single, glorious spurt, leaving you cleansed and empty and clean.

Finally you managed to drag yourself off the bed, setting course for the bathroom. It was not a long trip, and now that you'd finally left your cocoon of blankets, it wasn't an especially hard trip either. The chilly air helped you feel more awake, and you couldn't wait to turn your half-awake imaginings into reality.

Except... when you stood over the toilet, a wad of toilet paper against your face... no matter how you blew and blew, nothing would come, after all. Your nose remained firmly blocked, and all you managed to do with all that blowing was cause your ears to pop.

You groaned in frustration. There was no way you could go back to bed like this: you would only lie awake, supremely uncomfortable, breathing through your mouth, waiting for dawn to break. No, you would have to keep trying.

You blew harder, and harder, the discomfort only growing greater.

Until suddenly, something gave way, and it all came rushing out of you.

You moaned throatily, at first gathering the discharge up in the paper wad but quickly realizing there was far too much of it for that. You let the unchecked flow yellow, red, visceral purple, soft bits and hard tumble directly into the toilet bowl, turning the water dark. You barely even felt the lacerations in your nostrils as half-liquefied chunks of bone forced their way out of your head and left it an empty bag of skin and hair.

All you could feel was the relief.