Something crawled in my ear


Something crawled in my ear while I was sleeping last night.  

And it felt… pleasurable. The soft pulsing tickled at first, but as the pupa contorted itself and pushed its way into the canal it felt orgasmic.  My body buckled, froze, and shuddered ecstatically for a full minute as the visitor made its way home. I was then overcome with an overwhelming sense of peace.  Peace that I had not felt in years. Not since my childhood getting into a warm, freshly laundered bed on a stinging-cold winter night.

Something crawled in my ear while I was sleeping last night.

And it’s been telling me the most wondrous and terrible things.  It’s been telling me that there is a whole world far beneath ours called Daracaniu. Each of us proceed there eventually, descending in our long padded boxes. Six feet first, and then the drop.  Descending to a world rich with strange treasures.

In the subterranean cities the hares and jackrabbits run wild, just out of sight, chasing each other in the darkness.  They steal away the coffins when no one is looking and gnaw through their corners to feast on the abundance inside.  The flesh makes their eyes glow pink in the darkness.  There are no stars in the sky in these deep lands, but the illumination of millions of skittering rabbit eyes is a sight to behold, far more beautiful than our mundane canopy.

Something crawled in my ear while I was sleeping last night.

And it told me that I was welcome in Daracaniu very soon, that I would be embraced by the two-legs and four-legs alike. That the pleasure dens were beyond my reckoning and only came at a small price. That the fruit of the caverns would sustain me for millenia.  And all I had to do was to prepare myself.  Perfect the karmic mess of the life I had lived thus far.  Set things right.

Something crawled in my ear while I was sleeping last night.

And it showed me things about my life of which I was blind.  It told me that my own daughter had hatched a plan to betray me for money and sympathy and freedom. That her and her friend had often spoken about accusing me of sexual abuse, in order to wrest control of the money I have worked so hard for since her birth.  My passenger showed me her fantasies.  Running off to California with my wife, becoming an Instagram influencer counseling abuse victims.  Running wild from one party to another, with no guidance, no oversight, no father.

It spoke of my neighbor as well. The one who cracks jokes at my expense.  About my long hours at work, while he sits at home daytrading and sipping bourbon. The one who achieved what took me almost fifteen years, in his early twenties.  The visitor showed me what he does at night. Peeking in my windows. Watching my daughter undress and shower.  Sometimes he even takes video.

I was illuminated about the unseen life my wife was living as well.  I saw her putting on her thirty dollar lipstick in the kitchen as I left for work. Blood red.  And then was shown where that very same lipstick ended up after her lunch dates. Smeared across the shaft of the well endowed cock of the very same neighbor who violated my little girl’s privacy nightly.

Something crawled in my ear while I was sleeping last night.

And it has unveiled the truth of my life.  The nature of the beneficiaries of my efforts. The ones I love and provide for.  The karmic black holes that reap what I sow and transform my gifts to multiplying sickness and callousness.  The sources of my imperfection. The selfish evil blocking my entrance to Daracaniu and its luminous jackrabbits, pleasure houses, intoxicating spores and varied revelries.

Something crawled in my ear while I was sleeping last night.

And taught how to balance the scales. Getting my neighbor to visit was simple, the bottle of 20 year old scotch was a beacon to the man, so entranced by his own belligerence. After several glasses, he didn’t even struggle against the kitchen towel that I had doused in halothane.

Cutting the thin alabaster throats of my wife and daughter was no more difficult. My only remaining friend helped me.  He worked his way up through my grey matter to sit behind my eyes to show me the truth of their nature as I lashed out with the knife.  I saw only the parasites I was killing in their true forms.  Moss green and greasy, protuberances waggling around searching to draw  the sustenance from me endlessly. 

Then I moved my neighbor into the kitchen, placed a kitchen knife into his hands, propped him against the counter for a moment and put several bullets into his chest.  I can still hear the sound of his body hitting the tiles. It still makes me smile.

Even afterwards, when for a moment I had felt a tinge of grief at the mess I had made my dear friend comforted me and informed me that I would see them again.  That for their crimes against me they would serve at my feet for an eternity in Daracaniu.

Something crawled in my ear while I was sleeping last night.

And now I am picking out coffins.  The police were very supportive. It being such a tragedy to lose your whole family to a home invader. Everyone in the cul-de-sac conducted interviews about how my neighbor was such a nice, quiet man.  No one could possibly expect that he was capable of getting blind drunk and murdering two women in their own kitchen, no less a mother and daughter.  It all made more sense to the newscasters once the affair was uncovered.  Clearly my wife had tried to break it off and the man could not stand to lose her.  No matter. They are both lost now, for a time.

The weather today is gorgeous, but it holds nothing for me as I prepare for my destiny in the next world. The arrangements were a breeze. The final item on the list was to select the color of the vessels that would deliver my family to me in the underworld.

Something crawled in my ear while I was sleeping last night.

And he told me that I was clever and had made a truly inspired choice. They will both be buried in caskets of “Jackrabbit White”.

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D.M. Blackwell

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By D.M. Blackwell

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