HELL IS NAUGAHYDE by Erulisse (one L)
Mar. 20th, 2019 10:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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b2memB2MeM Prompt, Card and Number:O66: Curiosity (31-Orange), Coward (32-Yellow), Ink (35-Indigo), Cannibalism (103-Horror), Herding sheep (183-Story elements)
Format: Ficlet
Genre: Alternative Reality
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mention of blood, cannibalism, and psychiatry - all of which might be of equal horror.
Characters: Morgoth, Sauron
Creator’s Notes (optional):How to combine these elements into a single story? Anything is possible in dreams, and dreams cry out for psychoanalysis - at least they do in the rings of Hell.
Summary:Sauron is troubled by bad dreams (poor dear) and goes to a recommended psychiatrist for help. Everyone needs untroubled sleep, don't they?
HELL IS NAUGAHYDE
He looked around the nondescript room - beige walls, shades of brown in the shag carpeting, mass-produced artwork on the walls in utilitarian frames. A plant in an orange ceramic vase stood on a small table near the entry door, its artificial ivy leaves cascading down towards the floor. The ceiling was eggshell colored, popcorn textured with inset fluorescent lights diffused from the recessed plastic "crystal" grid. "It's a modern version of hell," he thought, approvingly. "I wonder if I could get the name of their decorator."
A door on the far side of the room opened and a perky receptionist entered, clipboard in her arms.
"Mr Sauron, sir? If you would just fill out these forms in triplicate and sign on the last page, the doctor will see you when the paperwork is completed."
He settled down to filling out the paperwork with a pen with ink that worked sporadically. As he shook the pen to get the next few words onto the pages, his mind wandered. Finally finished, he signed the final sheet at the bottom with a flourish. A tendril of smoke followed the whorls of his signature and the letters held a fiery gleam of sparks for a short moment
Handing the clipboard back to the receptionist, he noticed her yellow eyes matched her blonde hair. Her hairstyle, flipped at the ends, was perfect - not a hair out of place with a pink bow clipped at each side. Her claws were painted a matching primrose pink. She flipped through the pages he had filled out, double-checked the signature, and nodded.
"It all looks to be in order," she said, rising from her vinyl secretarial chair. She walked to the far door and gestured. "Doctor Morgoth will see you now."
* * * * *
"You were referred by 'He on High' if I recall correctly." Doctor Morgoth stated after he settled into a comfortable old-style Naugahyde recliner, a cold cup of coffee and an empty tissue box on the artificial wood table beside him. "I want to assure you that nothing you say here will leave this room. All of your words are completely confidential."
The Doctor uncrossed his fingers and pushed back into his own more comfortable chair. A spiral-bound notepad and several colorful pens were arranged on the table next to him. He grabbed the notebook and one pen in his hand, ready to take notes. He also switched on an audio recording device "…just to make sure I don't miss anything." Looking over at his patient, he began.
"Tell me, Sauron, I hear that you have been having bad dreams. Is there a specific one that troubles you today?"
Sauron took a deep breath. "It's going to sound weird, Doctor. My dreams … they're so disjointed. But every night, although the dreams are always different, I wake up gasping and can't get back to sleep, no matter how exhausted I am.
"Last night, for example, I was a shepherd with a large flock of sheep. It was urgent that they be moved from one place to another and I was working hard herding them through a gateway, when suddenly these normally mild animals developed sharpened teeth, turned around, and began attacking me!"
"I see," the Doctor murmured, writing furiously. He raised his head and looked at his patient. "And why do you think that was happening?"
"I have no idea. The new pasture featured good grass and I couldn't see any reason why the flock wouldn't want to move there. There was no reason for them to turn on me."
"So … the sheep turned on you. And they had teeth."
"Sharp teeth!" Sauron emphasized. "They started to converge on me, but then turned on themselves, tearing each other apart. Before I could do anything, my herd was fighting each other tooth and hoof, and the victors were pulling at the flesh of their new foes." Sauron shook his head. "Frankly, Doctor, it was disgusting! So messy."
"Yes … what did you do then?"
"I'm afraid I ran. The sheep were getting closer and closer to me - their teeth bloody and their eyes fire red. They might have been curious, but I didn't want to stay and find out. I ran away like a coward."
The room fell silent except for the scratch of the pen on the spiral pad of Doctor Morgoth. Sauron stared at him, unblinking, a look of hopelessness in his orange eyes. "Is there any hope, Doctor?" he asked, wringing his claw-tipped hands.
"Of course, dear boy. There is always hope. But for you … well, it will take many sessions. For today, however, our time is up. I will see you in seven days. I'll transmit a prescription to the apothecary for you to pick up on your way out. It will help your sleep. And be sure to check in with Beatrice to pay your pint of blood for this session and get scheduled for next week."
The doctor stood from his chair, holding out his hand. "We can do this, dear boy. We can analyze, understand, and finally conquer your dreams. If we work hard, you might be allowed back into the lower levels once again."
Sauron grasped the steaming hot hand of the doctor and shook it frantically, nodding his agreement as he was ushered to the doorway of the waiting room. He heard the door close behind him as he pulled his Blackberry 5810 from his pocket and pulled up the calendar feature. "Next week," he mumbled as his claws clicked on the keys. He headed toward Beatrice who was waiting with a needle and a tube to collect his pint of blood.
Format: Ficlet
Genre: Alternative Reality
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mention of blood, cannibalism, and psychiatry - all of which might be of equal horror.
Characters: Morgoth, Sauron
Creator’s Notes (optional):How to combine these elements into a single story? Anything is possible in dreams, and dreams cry out for psychoanalysis - at least they do in the rings of Hell.
Summary:Sauron is troubled by bad dreams (poor dear) and goes to a recommended psychiatrist for help. Everyone needs untroubled sleep, don't they?
HELL IS NAUGAHYDE
He looked around the nondescript room - beige walls, shades of brown in the shag carpeting, mass-produced artwork on the walls in utilitarian frames. A plant in an orange ceramic vase stood on a small table near the entry door, its artificial ivy leaves cascading down towards the floor. The ceiling was eggshell colored, popcorn textured with inset fluorescent lights diffused from the recessed plastic "crystal" grid. "It's a modern version of hell," he thought, approvingly. "I wonder if I could get the name of their decorator."
A door on the far side of the room opened and a perky receptionist entered, clipboard in her arms.
"Mr Sauron, sir? If you would just fill out these forms in triplicate and sign on the last page, the doctor will see you when the paperwork is completed."
He settled down to filling out the paperwork with a pen with ink that worked sporadically. As he shook the pen to get the next few words onto the pages, his mind wandered. Finally finished, he signed the final sheet at the bottom with a flourish. A tendril of smoke followed the whorls of his signature and the letters held a fiery gleam of sparks for a short moment
Handing the clipboard back to the receptionist, he noticed her yellow eyes matched her blonde hair. Her hairstyle, flipped at the ends, was perfect - not a hair out of place with a pink bow clipped at each side. Her claws were painted a matching primrose pink. She flipped through the pages he had filled out, double-checked the signature, and nodded.
"It all looks to be in order," she said, rising from her vinyl secretarial chair. She walked to the far door and gestured. "Doctor Morgoth will see you now."
* * * * *
"You were referred by 'He on High' if I recall correctly." Doctor Morgoth stated after he settled into a comfortable old-style Naugahyde recliner, a cold cup of coffee and an empty tissue box on the artificial wood table beside him. "I want to assure you that nothing you say here will leave this room. All of your words are completely confidential."
The Doctor uncrossed his fingers and pushed back into his own more comfortable chair. A spiral-bound notepad and several colorful pens were arranged on the table next to him. He grabbed the notebook and one pen in his hand, ready to take notes. He also switched on an audio recording device "…just to make sure I don't miss anything." Looking over at his patient, he began.
"Tell me, Sauron, I hear that you have been having bad dreams. Is there a specific one that troubles you today?"
Sauron took a deep breath. "It's going to sound weird, Doctor. My dreams … they're so disjointed. But every night, although the dreams are always different, I wake up gasping and can't get back to sleep, no matter how exhausted I am.
"Last night, for example, I was a shepherd with a large flock of sheep. It was urgent that they be moved from one place to another and I was working hard herding them through a gateway, when suddenly these normally mild animals developed sharpened teeth, turned around, and began attacking me!"
"I see," the Doctor murmured, writing furiously. He raised his head and looked at his patient. "And why do you think that was happening?"
"I have no idea. The new pasture featured good grass and I couldn't see any reason why the flock wouldn't want to move there. There was no reason for them to turn on me."
"So … the sheep turned on you. And they had teeth."
"Sharp teeth!" Sauron emphasized. "They started to converge on me, but then turned on themselves, tearing each other apart. Before I could do anything, my herd was fighting each other tooth and hoof, and the victors were pulling at the flesh of their new foes." Sauron shook his head. "Frankly, Doctor, it was disgusting! So messy."
"Yes … what did you do then?"
"I'm afraid I ran. The sheep were getting closer and closer to me - their teeth bloody and their eyes fire red. They might have been curious, but I didn't want to stay and find out. I ran away like a coward."
The room fell silent except for the scratch of the pen on the spiral pad of Doctor Morgoth. Sauron stared at him, unblinking, a look of hopelessness in his orange eyes. "Is there any hope, Doctor?" he asked, wringing his claw-tipped hands.
"Of course, dear boy. There is always hope. But for you … well, it will take many sessions. For today, however, our time is up. I will see you in seven days. I'll transmit a prescription to the apothecary for you to pick up on your way out. It will help your sleep. And be sure to check in with Beatrice to pay your pint of blood for this session and get scheduled for next week."
The doctor stood from his chair, holding out his hand. "We can do this, dear boy. We can analyze, understand, and finally conquer your dreams. If we work hard, you might be allowed back into the lower levels once again."
Sauron grasped the steaming hot hand of the doctor and shook it frantically, nodding his agreement as he was ushered to the doorway of the waiting room. He heard the door close behind him as he pulled his Blackberry 5810 from his pocket and pulled up the calendar feature. "Next week," he mumbled as his claws clicked on the keys. He headed toward Beatrice who was waiting with a needle and a tube to collect his pint of blood.
no subject
Date: 2019-03-20 03:35 pm (UTC)It was a close run thing, my apple juice and I nearly had an incident with the laptop. XD
This was hilarious and wonderful, and it made me think a bit of Atto Fiondil having Freud deal with the Feanorian boys. But you made it happen with *Morgoth* and *Sauron* and somehow that's, I don't know, even worse in the best way. XDDD
So this is what the Void is like, is it? :D Appalling. XD
Poor Sauron, indeed...^_^ hehe
*hugs*
Kaylee
no subject
Date: 2019-03-20 03:43 pm (UTC)Yes, didn't anyone ever tell you that Hell is the residence of poor industrial design and drab waiting rooms? The prompts I had were impossible to link, except in dreams, so dreams it became. Somewhere Freud is taking notes on my strange angle and I'm sure I'll hear from him when I see him on the other side - LOL.
*hugs* in return, and a wish that you will never have to meet a Nauga nor strip its hide.
- Erulisse (one L)
no subject
Date: 2019-03-20 04:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-03-20 06:10 pm (UTC)- Erulisse (one L)
no subject
Date: 2019-03-20 04:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-03-20 06:10 pm (UTC)- Erulisse (one L)
no subject
Date: 2019-03-20 06:00 pm (UTC)Just... this.. image... *breaks into wheezes of laughter* Oh my Eru, this is magnificent.
no subject
Date: 2019-03-20 06:11 pm (UTC)- Erulisse (one L)
no subject
Date: 2019-03-21 08:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-03-21 02:58 pm (UTC)- Erulisse (one L)
no subject
Date: 2019-03-21 06:02 pm (UTC)I love Morgoth's alternative to The Pound Of Flesh - and the vision of Sauron running from toothy sheep is just too priceless!!!
Thanks for the laugh!!
no subject
Date: 2019-03-21 09:14 pm (UTC)Glad to pass on the laugh!
- Erulisse (one L)