solusxisle

I don't know where to start, I mean the beginning is the obvious choice but I don't think there is a discernable point where that is either. All I know is that the nightmares began about three months ago, they have altered my perception of reality to the extent that now as I write this down I have no idea if I am waking or dreaming. There is one thing I can be sure of, Michael James is a monster and I can't trust him. Three Months ago a man came into my art gallery, he had sullen features, a long bushy beard and paint stains all over his clothes. He looked at me oddly and then asked if he was able to get an exhibition slot sometime within the next few weeks. I informed him that we had a slot opening the next week on Friday but that it would only be enough space for five pieces. He looked pleased and then introduced himself as Michael James. He explained that he was a photographer and graphic artist. That he took photos and manipulated them using photoshop and other programs to make them appear more gruesome or macabre. His exact wording was 'To show people what's really on the inside.' I was intrigued so I asked him if he could do one of me. He laughed but then took a photo none the less. It was somewhat unprofessionally done but... well the next week he had the finished product and I was amazed. There infront of me was a photo, me splayed out, chest opened, organs there for the world to see. I congratulated James on his piece and asked to see the others. He took them out one by one. These pieces looked more professional, like he had had more time with images. Glowing red hearts and brilliant white lungs against the grayscale backing of the human flesh that had been folded back. It amazed me how beautiful the pictures were comparative to how closely it reselmbed Autopsy pictures. It was that night when I had my first nightmare. I went to bed, excited for the next day. Michael James' opening would evidently bring a crowd. I had called most of my contacts and friends to come down to the gallery, none of them would've seen anything quite like this before. Then I shut my eyes, and the dream began. It was a day like any other. I got up, showered, had breakfast and grabbed a coffee at Jeano's before heading to the gallery. I burnt my tongue on the coffee, I remember that. When I got to the gallery I could hear a noise coming from the back room. It sounded like panting, heavy, heavy panting. I walked past the front desk and walked to the back, I had never given much thought to being robbed but now the process was running through my head very clearly. Instead I found Michael James, crouched over a figure of a woman... heaving very heavily. He turned around to reveal blood dripping down his face and into his beard, the woman was dead. He flung out his hand and something flew at me. It was then I woke up. That day I was a little shaken, I followed my normal pattern. Shower, Breakfast, Coffee and Jeano's. It was when I burnt my tongue on the coffee that I slowed my pace and looked around. It was just like any other day, people walking by and acting like nothing was wrong. But deep in my gut I could feel something wasn't right. I shook my head and passed it off as Deja vu. When I got into the gallery I heard the heaving and panting coming from the back. I started to panic and grabbed a crowbar that was used to open crates upon arrival. I stepped cautiously towards the back of the store and found Michael James trying to move a rather large box into the back door. When I saw him I automatically lowered my crowbar, feeling foolish. He looked up at me, asking for a hand. Together we moved the crate into the back room as he explained that he had a stroke of inspiration last night, had spent the entire night working on a new piece that he would like to put in to replace the picture he had done of me. Well when he opened up the box I was unable to speak. The photo was that of myself and a woman, lying on cement in the shape of a ying yang symbol, guts pooling together in the centre. There was a cut in my throat, it looked as if I had been