Eyes adjust slow to the black. Stink hits hard—hot, wet rot. Flies buzz thick, fat green bastards swarming. I’m flat on slime, hands sliding over squishy shit, nails snagging wet plastic, soaked rags. Organic mush sticks. Stomach flips, bile rises. Fuck this. Push up. Walls slick, feet slip on wriggling goo. Vibrations hum below—things crawling, alive. Hand slams lid, light cracks in. Benne to the world. Feet sunk in dark crap. Vomit sprays, sour burn. Outside: shadowed alley, massive tower looming. Green bin against wall. Familiar tower, red neon crown. Emergency exit door above. Grab a bag—papers, names, dates. Blue scrub top, stained every shade of filth. Wet patches cling. Naked underneath. Legs weak, can’t climb out. Truck roars in. Panic surges, cock twitches at the edge. Lid slams down. Hide in vomit, trash soup. Laughter outside. Bin lifts, dumps me rolling. Soft rot floods mouth, bitter. Needle glints, dirty tip up. Throne on busted office chair. Don’t scream. Voice whispers: ‘It’ll settle, Sam.’ Truck grinds, rolls fast. Amnesia teases—white room, calm voice. Sam G? Ted K? Names sting, gut twists. Sack squirms nearby. Sweat drips, heat crushes. Freins screech, dump flips. Light blinds, buried in waste ocean. Sky dirty. I’m Sam G, 48, summer. Truck snakes away. Heart pounds. This filth? It’s pulling me in, hard.
Landfill sprawls endless. Plastic bags whip in hot wind. Vultures dive. Stink like death’s asshole. Bells clang. Heat shimmers, feet sink in shifting shit. Thirst claws. City burns distant. Kids swarm—nine shadows, ten max, baggy camo, gas masks, sticks carved. Stone cracks skull. Blood hot. Stick prods wound. ‘Who?’ Kid leader, Kevo, gravel voice. Trade gold cross for night. Follow. Dodge pits, huts from junk. Rat meat sizzles later, hairy, gamey chew. Coffee bitter. Stories: dumped babies, street wolves. Adults lurk, dangerous. Kevo’s tale—carried brother Milo here. Fire crackles, night cools. Bald head questioned. Clean, I say. Laughs. Want back in city? This our land. Hunger builds, rat down. Clothes tomorrow: black soutane, cape. Stick from Kevo. Trudge north, piss called from towers. Reverse trek: highways, fountains, drive-thru scraps. Hamburgers cold, fries ketchup-slathered. Eat crouched, vigilant. Roof sleep, dreams churn—blood, pool laps, screams. Chlorine taste. Aggression boils.
The Awakening Rush
City swarm. Stick clears path, irritates suits. Beg directions. Beat slow-talk bum bloody, arcade smashed, nose pulp. Run, cops flash. Pool found: olympic gleam, verres huge. Crawl ghosts arms slice water. Home flashes—white apt, tower job. Sneak in rain, fridge glows sterile. Eat sweets on tile. Shower scours crust, razors gleam. Meds hoard: Xanax flood. Past floods: doc burnout, Nelly’s corpse-walk, Ted K’s shotgun kiss. Blood sprays. Locked psych ward, blue scrubs, escape bin. Tower looms. Guards mock. Charge, bash skulls, flee bruised. Roof crumbs. Back to dump calling. Filth my fix, transgression throbs. Kids need doc. Me.
Feet drag return. Birds circle. Road winds. Wind teases rot. Safety there, purge pills slow. No chance. Destiny. Heal them, join tribe. Cock stirs at thought—raw, free, filthy paradise. Secret mine. No one knows this rush.