---

Throat shut

Subdermal slithering

Surrounded by Seven Pillars of moving flesh

Enter not with hands unstained

As the Sclera fills with blood

And shivers cross from unnerving to painful

Lungs hard to fill

Coughing up nebulous mucus

Multiple hands covering the face

Forcing it down, in soiled waters

Shutting down all thoughts,

Uttering the last words of inner, frightened monologue

It begins

It has begun.