The_Shiver

An unknown man tells about his experience of madness.

THE_SHIVER

'Would_you_like_to_tell_me_about_your_experience?', The man asked.

..This one time, i read a story. I didn't quite understand what it was about; the words were smudged and foreign. I tried to find out how someone could read a story like that. None of the words repeated, which indicated that it was not a language. But there it was. Worn out from all the times it was opened. The title contained letters my brain recognized, but I still didn't understand what it meant.
All i know is that reading it made me shiver. And it was no normal shiver; No shiver that afflicts your body unpleasantly, when you're standing at a lonely train station at night, hearing footsteps getting louder and louder behind you, but when you turn around, there's no one approaching you. Or when you enter a room, filled with moving darkness, and a fast, terrifying panic surrounds your entire being when you're not able to find the light switch. Or even when you lie in your comfortable bed in your empty suburban room, and you know it's empty, it must be, but you're sure you're about to get grabbed.

No, It was no ordinary shiver. It was a shiver that made every vessel in my body cold, made all the oxygen in my blood disappear. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't speak. It was the strongest feeling I had ever felt. But within less than a second, it was gone. And it wouldn't return.

At first, I didn't think much of it. I just wrote down that I didn't understand it and it just made me feel like a woman. I closed the small book, and went to sleep. I didn't dream. I just slept, like every other night: Asleep, but alert. The next day, I just went to work, did the laundry, kissed my wife, like any other day. And the routine went on and on for a pretty long time.

Until I realized I wanted that shiver back. I wanted to feel the intense sensation that made my senses faint, my brain stop, my heart beating.

So I walked over to my desk and searched through my many insignificant papers and books, until I finally found it. But when I read the story again, it didn't happen. No shivers. So I started looking for ways to trigger the shiver. I went to amusement parks with my wife to see if a haunted house stimulated enough terror. It didn't. I read, researched, tried to analyze the strange story I read. I tried several drugs, injected myself with heavy amounts of adrenaline; Getting the drugs was the only reason I showed up at work. I became obsessed with it, the unknown shiver.

When I finally realized I was not gonna be able to find the shiver back alone, I called my only friend and asked her to come over. She was a doctor as well, and my wife didn't want to help me. She didn't understand. But my friend did. My friend always understood me. Well, that's what she always tried to implicate when I spoke to her about my theories. Now she had the chance to prove to me that she was intelligent enough to be at my league. She read the story, and I stared at her. Taking note of her every move, facial expressions. I counted her breaths. Just stared at her eyes move slightly while reading the smudged words. Until she closed the small book and looked at me. She didn't understand the story one bit, and she didn't feel it. She didn't feel my shiver.

It confused me. Why, why didn't she feel it? I felt it. I had been obsessing over it, goddammit. I screamed at her. 'You.. You're ignorant, just like all of them!' I grabbed her shoulders tightly and stared at her. Maybe a deep stare would help. It didn't. I kissed her. No shiver. She slapped me. It made my eyesight blurry, but still no shiver. I kicked her with all the power I still had in my 57 year old legs. No shiver. It didn't affect her that much, so I threw her on the ground. A cup fell off of the desk and broke into 27 individual pieces of glass, not including the fractions. She grabbed one of the glass shards and stood up, as I froze and was caught up in my own thoughts, which is something I can't contain. She took the glass shard, kicked me in the crouch and while I was caught up in my pain, she stuck the glass shard in my mouth and closed it. The sweet taste of blood filled every corner of my mouth. I felt it dripping down my chin, coloring my white coat red. And there it was. The shiver. The orgasmic feeling made my consciousness blurred. As I fainted, I heard her leave.

'..Go on..' I whispered, as her footsteps sounded softer. They slowly, faster, uncontrollably, converted into deep, strange noises, flowing through my brain as a lost blood cloth, disturbing the movements in my brain. Until the noise stopped. It was quiet. I opened my eyes, and realized that I had been laying there for way too long. Even now, the blood in my mouth still tasted fresh. It streamed down my gullet, and I felt victorious. I knew the source of the shiver. It's terror. But no ordinairy terror. No, I needed someone to bring me terror, while hurting me at the same time.

So, the next day, I tried calling her again. No response. Only six missed calls, which were all coming from my wife. Women are useless creatures, always being so caught up in their 'intense' emotions. Which in the end is something I could use.
So I called my favorite mental institution, asking for a specific impulsive and aggressive individual, that liked torturing animals in her normal days. Her name was Erinn. Erinn was transported to my house the next day. She looked young, but had a worn out, crooked and tired face. Her scarred arms were thin and small, but definitely contained strong muscles. I lured her into my lab, asked kindly if she wanted to help me. She answered with a few simple words I don't remember. The significance of the words was too small.

' Just..' There was a slight pause in my brain before I actually told her what to do. For a small, insane and terrifying moment I was completely aware of my madness.

'Just hurt me. Make me feel pain. And I want real pain. I want pain that induces the most horrifying terror you can think of. And don't worry about death. Death is just a savior for madmen.'

And that's how I ended up here.

© 2013 Unconsciousness

Author's Note

This is my first attempt to write a story that has been going through my mind for a while.
I left out the disgusting part in this version, other version coming soon.