[I'm reading this AMAZING book, the title of which I am keeping under wraps until I finish it, that is incredibly disturbing. Its so good, however, that I can't help sharing just a bit with everyone else. It is a book about a book that doesn't exist about a different book that doesn't exist about a documentary film that doesn't exist about a haunted house. The house may or may not exist. Here is an excerpt.]
I don’t know what I need but for no apparent reason I’m going terribly south. Nothing has happened, absolutely nothing, but I’m having problems breathing. The air in the Shop is admittedly thick with the steady smell of sweat, isopropyl alcohol, Benz-all, all that solution for ultrasonic cleaner, even solder and flux, but that’s not it either. [...]
I get a glass of water. I walk out into the hallway. That’s a mistake. I should of stayed near people. The comfort of company and all that. Instead I’m alone, running through a quick mental check list: food poisoning? (stomach’s fine) withdrawls? (haven’t been on a gak or Ecstasy diet for several months, and while I didn’t smoke any pot this morning – my usual ritual – I know THC doesn’t create any lasting physical dependencies.) And then out of the be-fucking-lue, everything gets substantially darker. Not pitch black mind you. Not even power failure black. More like a cloud passing over the sun. Make that a storm. Though there is no storm. No clouds. Its a bright day and anyway I’m inside.
I wish that had been all. Just a slight decrease in illumination and a little breathing difficulty. Could still blame that on a blown fuse or some aberrant drug related flashback. But then my nostrils flare with the scent of something bitter & foul, something inhuman, reeking with so much rot & years, telling me in the language of nausea that I’m not alone.
Something is behind me.
Of course, I try to deny it.
It’s impossible to deny.
I wanna puke.
To get a better idea of this: focus on these words, and whatever you do don’t let your eyes wander past the perimeter of this page. Now imagine just beyond your peripheral vision, maybe behind you, maybe to the side of you, maybe even in front of you, but right where you can’t see it, something is quietly closing in on you, so quiet in fact you can only hear it as silence. Find those pockets without sound. That’s where it is. Right at this moment. But don’t look. Keep your eyes here. Now take a deep breath. Go ahead and take an even deeper one. Only this time as you start to exhale try to imagine how fast it will happen, how hard it’s gonna hit you, how may times it will stab your jugular with its teeth or are they nails?, don’t worry, that particular detail doesn’t matter, because before you have time to even process that should be moving, you should be running, you should at the very least be flinging up your arms – you sure as hell should be getting rid of this book – you won’t have time to even scream.