The Nephilim In The Furnace Dark(original rough draft; currently nearing novella length)

Earlier that night: Everything these days could become available now nationwide for public seepage and disposal. So could trains, it seemed. There were many people there that night, important people. It wasn't just the advent for jetsam clouds overhead I'm afraid. At the end of the night all four boys, including me, would end up looking at nothing but moonlit candelabra in the whalelike belly of a sky, searchingly. 

But as of right now? At the beginning of all this ruckus? I sat mullioned as a vulturelike craning with a sunken larynx, feathered shade hemming and hawing for flesh long as of tasted before the punishing day began. I came closer and drew nearer the baronial foundry of a waistcoat frocked empire for a man was grinning. I handed him the glass ashtray underside the chin speedily and so hard that here was when it all came tumbling out as a corpuscle squeezed out wrung fistful, all blood oranges once ripe from moonside harvest. His teeth beneath my hardening donkey tail slashing and hissing between my legs, fell out and crumbled dangling like the cigarette fixed like a beacon always smoking chimney had now burnt the grin into a harelip jawline fuming blood and crushed bone and teeth smooth as broken glass fare for the train. When it all really got fun in the room lustrous in that alchemical woodenlane paneled was when pecked deep enough to snatch some brain matter jerkey and feel it slither salting my own grinning protuberance.

All my lonesome and lithesome life I ate nothing but carapace symbols of pestilence clawed lifeless but still pictorial before smashed apart again like the train car window panes, like the whoremongering pioneers of a newfound land that would keep us consolidate as fossil fire than to ever again run amock; maybe get somewhere afar: soak a seditious finger up another like-minded boy's arboreal keister, find yourself also grinning homeward on nothing but splintered club foot cloven, soon to make the tit milk spoil harsh and soar sour lineament brine as sputum flung phonetical out my tongue drawn out like sensuous lyre. I did not swipe I pecked and I kept lunging for more, while the three other boys from the motorcade graveyard rolled atop bodies fallen apart laughing and squealing intestines' welted butt naked tethering like locust taste and death of only living child bring changing wind somewhere always burnt up, somewhere beneath the infernal immersion leaving field scorched and scalped while boys kick me like a soccer ball until ready for all, all of us highwaymen without a purse to keep the soils: of walking abortion we are always first and foremost afterthought, to be no one but that which has now been thrown and brought ambling hillside that must roam throughout slaughtered grassy tide and smegma growing from the newfound smelting done now worldwide, even starting to arise all over this here yonder thought clandestine.

Became invigorated in hemlock and rising astride my newly crowned Baphomet wings: past the fires and organs squishin and spatterin scrimshaw as I cut apart the tendon and sank upward to cusp the cannonballed galore, I knew long and hard I hated my brethren enough to slaughter them all, eat them bone and all, as well as shovel the dirt-flown excrement of the undigested businessmen we killed earlier together. For all we had time to do with me as us together, they would always end up among the Nephilim cadaverous like a blood spill pond reflecting the dead eyes of a mountainside.

God had divested all this, it seems, and all that provisionally was  depended on was how soon or elsewhere were those four boys ready to make me mad yet? Still? Unthinkable, he thought himself sex-adverse as he seems to be, able to give his wife up to be the tan yard trough before fucked, torn apart and beaten barefoot mud, before they too had balled up anew as coal drops. he nevertheless came nearby, all the times for destination. Here these mountainous charnel house men came for me and us all, had felt ready to do something drastic in this bedlam life: I was lunging forth, ready to create national infamy for one curious night aboard the shaking length of the ironwork advancing like a caterpillar becoming further anxious and unsafe underside the spooning scalpel as the three youngsters remaining  ate every passenger still alive on board except the baronial winged jugular for secluded guests; second car once an impoverished Bordello harem fenced by us during that time. I really hope our cripple asses watch something soon. 

So the tumid diamond-sheared wooden hallway of the wheezing train car was overflooded in the ruckus of the youngsters stowaways who slashed the owners alike because we always know that we were capable of such mythic displays of idle violence. They disappeared not soon after melting the face of the conductor also alive because of the burned face's rougher surface of enmeshed skin wrung still heavy and breathable on his lil’ self young'un around his face and thoughts, that was me.

But mostly due to me remembering to want and had done rather  some hideous shit.

"Did you think you got anything in it, like shares?" he asked with strangely becalmed frustration. There was a timpanist screaming within my thoughts I smashed three women with a brick I produced with a gladiatorial lurch and nearly killed one of the upscale whores when i came merely puppetlike, but also endowed with marionette insight into the workings of human desire both young and old. 

"Yeah like I think you look great where I had left you disemboweled  Another maverick of industry pulled apart like a doll, the torso destroyed… the lungs bouncing off the befrogged kneecaps on my jeans ripped and sheared out of the pleasure of fear rediscovered as reborn yearning; before we kicked like our own mother when she had been sick so long with us as playthings gurgling as we kick the mid game plastered  had beat off come on each other’s hand themselves with drink and semen rich with fermented fervor until we realized that underfoot? Yeah it just sort of slants at a bad, sudden step.

and masturbated supra early under plastic and the stretched open squelches of the enslaved sex playthings were having an  industrious being in plotting out how to raze the surrounding beauty of land! Or if they broke us yelping so i do try and be so over it to just build another ribcage not too dissimilar to the industrial death of the potbellied, dark-lined lunar eyed dignitaries of nationwide commerce here, in our hands and thrown about as our own market share of body parts. now dead that singular wunderkind, if you feels okay and idea was ; a runway where poorer travelers could die at least at ease, knowing they'd safely be in painless headlong flight to being thrown off the deliberately cutthroat runway where the undesirables  

I, who had killed my best friends long after finding my last contestant's timpanist, so brutally I killed the previous passengers during that fortnight they had spotted the steam clouds of the locomotive afar. They had lived in the motorcade graveyard opposite the track lines atop a twisted promontory which had  overlooked the surrounding region of pastureland and cottage homes. Though to be truer to their memory, I just wanted the goddamn train. I wanted to decorate it fresh with the unspooled entrail of a child and capitalist alike, the meat of minds flung everywhere like bubblegum blown up. I wanted to shit inside the split windpipe of the conductor before I flushed him down the gleaming pile of deathly bright fire sending us back to civilization, eh?! Thought,  the company was long has guess trading to extract sheer altogether the four adolescent boys driven not purely by the scrotal waxwing of bicycle pedal; even younger  who lived in the skeletal remains of our nation's most marvelous innovation yet inbound form of traversal yet. Coming about into a system of production, unmolested; it still is something fulsome in my learning, how what I did actually was a quite like my boyhood itself: the corpses I left across fields inured heavy atop yawning boreal treeline, and  nothing but howling contempt made by the sallow-faced symbolism in the boy turning to the coal scion seated by himself, seeing himself not only then but also far among the recesses of outer space where alien boys played similar games of wanton masturbation across the starfields of dead gods unearthed. When the company treasurer for the travel agency howled like a wolf with no fur and snout crushed in and broken off felicitiously as snarling teeth but all limp dick in hand and tongue alike, the blade was so near combative touch, which funny enough had made him seized up like a heaving face after being so clung inside his intestinal billfold wallet lain hourly like dead chinese migrant servant had been made to during his release of counting off loss margins and neck near falling off the  columnar shit as a monolithic turd arose over the lapel line. Can you imagine that preposterous mental image? A system rivaling the transportation of goods offered by the newborn locomotive engine that aren't carrying faster and faster by impish orphans? We could have been quick-stepping back and within the preeminence of our careers!

 I looked outside the window, where the low walls of Britony had been the splendid picnic playground for Romans buried fatuous and broken to bits like battleground dung beetles smashed and trampled, much like the site of the motorcade graveyard they had lived alone inside today. The dawn light was slowly crenellated into a urinal cake blue backdrop. A tree spouts imperious life atop the hillside I wander across the wake, the smoky votive of a trainyard townside: It is dancing with flames and screams for all to witness the birth of progress, aloft. All you can see was the earthenware aquiver from blinding reclamation.

One day we will too squirm unheard an empire of measured stone and rubber going forward.