A Cunt Filled With Stars - The True Origin of Maggot Boy: The Ember Files - Log 11
How Rook Wetherell was made.
To read previous log - Log 10.1 - click here.
Classified: Level III Archive
Provenance: Unknown. Recovered from burned records at the Institute perimeter.
Translator’s Note: Language unstable. Subject identity presumed Rook. Fragment retained for forensic psycho-symbolic analysis.
Maggot Boy: A Cunt Filled With Stars
Pushed out behind the bar like split pig liver.
Afterbirth slaps linoleum, steaming under seizure-flash stage lights.
Liquor box crib. Mop water christening.
Mother sparks a ciggie, scrapes thigh with a bar rag, hollers at the drummer to load in.
Rise, lil’ imp.
The jukebox skips to Eddie Money.
Mama pisses hot down her leg.
Bleached-out barflies shriek like gulls at a carcass.
The man-boy slithers under pool tables,
knees ripped raw on dried spunk and bottle caps,
watching cocks swing loose like meat cleavers.
No name.
Just noise, grease breath, and the twitch of men unraveling.
Flesh stays squishy. Spirit stays damp.
Learns fuck before walk.
Learns thrust before talk.
Tears off to strangers.
Grinds until locks unbolt.
Pounds until air runs out.
Grabs at slits warm and open.
Hits hard when mama disappears.
Slows down when she returns.
Stand close to me, mama.
Cock bends wrong.
Chafed to a red, slick root.
Blisters. Peels.
Snaps.
Splits.
A cunt explodes into being.
Bloated, starless, bleach-stung.
No pulse. Just pull.
A black hole behind a zipper in blue jeans.
Sucked.
Filmed.
Dumped, wiped off, and blocked.
Swallows fists, bile, memory.
Swallows.
Dials the virgin what birthed him.
She coughs between drags.
“I got bills.”
”Hoarse whore.”
Cuts the line.
Still calls.
Still fucks like a bruise.
Still oozes.
Maggot Boy doesn’t climax.
Leaks grief from his dried-out slit.
Paints sheets with a void,
shot from the dick she keeps clenched in her fist.
“Will I dream?”
“No, son. And no one will ever dream of you.”
[Fragment Ends]
Postscript:
Note: Fragment consistent with Rook’s early developmental mapping. Interpret with caution. Language appears generated under altered states, possibly ritual, trance, or trauma-induced confessional mode.
END LOG 11
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