Silence of the underworld

Disclaimer: A little gross. So don't read if you don't want to. And, i just love writing gross stuff so don't add comments like 'Dude what happened to you?' or 'Dude you alright?' in response to this.

It came in a hurry. It always did. That moment of realization of one's imminent death always comes in a hurry. It is like the sharp prick of a needle being injected into the soft insides of the thigh. Rapid, and quickly transforming, from a friendly little pinch into a horrifying steel-boring-into-me pain. It then spreads across causing momentary paralysis.

I stood like a deer, caught, not between the headlights, but rather between the cold death like grip of the fender impact and inertia, feeling its head snap and plaster itself onto the windshield. I felt like i was watching through the decapitated head in to the cob-webbed windscreen at the horrified driver's face as he swerves the truck through the adjacent railing and crashes into the chasm below

I felt the cold of the mindnight river hit me as i drowned, gasping for breath as murderously frigid water filled my lungs like a water balloon, choking me into a breathlessly mad slow-motion struggle. I settle down into the sandy dark bottom, belly up, like the millions of fishes that had settled there before me, for centuries. I lie at the bottom hidden away and filed under the miscellaneous department of deep water mysteries for eternity.

I feel the sand over my face. I feel the vermin and the un-evolved monsters of the underground crawl over me as they cover me up with earth. The world is gradually darkening as i suffocate yet again and try to flail my limbs to no avail. The last memory is that of hard exoskeletons and slimy skin rubbing all over my body and the million tingles of hairy shart feet crawling over me. I sleep with the utmost, deepest horror a man can sleep with. Somewhere out there someone will say 'Rest in peace'. I scream at the inaneness of that statement, my voice not rising above the silence of the underworld.