" Morbid Curiosity "

His face was still bleeding. It didn't hurt.



As the blood gushed out of his body and spattered the floor, he didn't try to stop it. Visions of otherworldly beings and impossible architecture danced in the back of his mind. It was mesmerizing, so much so that he didn't notice that he had been chewing on a moth.



He tried to stand up. His vision clouded as blood rushed from inside his head into his twisted limbs. He fell over and smashed his already broken face against the floor. It still didn't hurt.



He exited the room and was greeted by his dog, who didn't have a bottom jaw anymore, and was drooling tears and thick blood as its tongue lolled and almost touched the ground. He nearly slipped on an eyeball, squishing it with his bare foot. Strange insects he didn't recognize flew around the damp hallway, producing a horrid cacophony. As he walked through the hallway it seemed to expand and shrink with each step he took.



He reached the room. The rotten wood floor pitched and heaved under his feet.



He couldn't help himself, he was too curious.



He looked at the painting again.



His head was gone.