As I sat by my desk in English class, focusing really hard on keeping my eyes open, surrounded by vapid classmates staring emptily into the air, the teacher blabbering on about some old poem that I didn't understand, it felt as though my stomach exploded.
A wave of pain rushed through my bowels as my stomach let out a surprisingly loud screech. The teacher abruptly stopped talking and the entire class must have been staring in disbelief.
I didn't look at them, instead, I stared stiffly at the floor, concentrating really hard on not shitting myself right then and there.
The embarrassment was immobilizing, however, it meant nothing in the face of the immense pain ravaging my wheezing digestive system. It felt like someone was cutting my innards with a pair of scissors. I was going into labor, poop labor.
I hastily sat down on the toilet, my stomach roaring as the gates of Hell opened. A flood that would put any biblical tale to shame rushed out of my ass, a mix of relief and pain shooting through my body as my stomach howled.
The poop splashed into the toilet with otherworldly force, much of it was slung right out again. The walls were lined with shit, a gut-wrenching smell like rotten eggs and death filled the room.
My muscles and legs were twitching and shaking violently. I had been pooping non-stop for half a minute. The poop rolled from my ass like a river, diarrhea like a never-failing stream.
Then it stopped. The pain left as suddenly as it had come. I wasn't pooping anymore, I looked down on my private parts and attempted a last push, but nothing but a small drop of piss came out.
The poop on the walls was now running downwards, the poop in the toilet seemingly climbing upwards as if the laws of physics no longer applied.
"What the fuck" I mumbled as the poop slithered towards one certain spot on the toilet floor, right in front of my feet.
It was forming into a living mass, mildly humanoid, it made a gurgling noise as its huge arms and vast legs of poop took shape.
The person in the stall next to me was making noises of pure appalment and disgust as the smell engulfed him. Finally, he couldn't keep his curiosity at bay and peeked over the stall.
I watched his face as it went pale, as the horror spread across his face.
He stared stiffly at me and the poop for a few seconds, then, like the flip of a switch, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell, hitting his head on the toilet bowl.
The sound made me sick to my core, a crack so loud, nothing short of certain death could have been the outcome.
Blood quickly crept under the stall, it flowed into the pile of shit and merged with it, giving the poop a dark-reddish hue. The... creature was absorbing blood.
"You fucking piece of shit..." I stuttered, trying to sound tough, but my voice shrilled with horror. The creature had no way to respond, it had no head, no mouth, no eyes.
It was still just a basic four-limbed, vaguely human figure, like the obscure outline of one's reflection in a puddle.
The creature stumbled forward, cautiously, one leg at a time, like a toddler taking its first steps. It bumped forcefully into the plastic stall, sending projectile shit in all directions.
It took a few seconds to regain itself, standing still, seemingly pondering this newfound obstacle.
Then it lifted its right poop-arm and struck the stall with immense power, the sound of breaking plastic filled my ears.
The dead guy next to me came into sight as the stall gave in, his body lay strewn on the toilet floor, his pants around his ankles. The creature... the... Poop Fiend approached him.
It laid down on top of his corpse in a calculated manner. It took me some time to realize what was going on; it was feeding on him.
Without a mouth, it seemingly ate the corpse with all its being. Like a thousand mouths, the poopy matter opened and closed, chewing the flesh. The fiend gradually expanded in size...
sections of its surface stopped being poop, giving way to what vaguely reminded me of veiny human skin. The sight was so abhorrent, I felt as though I had to puke.
I regarded the creature that I had birthed, it made me think of a line from that poem the teacher had been reading. "...look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!" weirdly fitting...
I had created a living creature with my bare anus, I was its creator, its father. The poop was my work, and the world would look on it, and despair.
No. I could not let the world see this abomination. I had to kill it. I was its creator; it was only fitting I'd be its destroyer too.
I pulled my pants up and ran out of the restroom, filled with determination. I knew the location of a fire axe, just at the end of the main corridor.
I dashed forward, running faster than I'd ever done before, nearly stumbling over my legs. I arrived at the glass display containing my weapon of choice.
I broke the glass and grabbed the axe as a surge of power rushed over me.
Armed with the Poopslayer, a name I so fittingly had bestowed upon it, I ran back towards the restroom.
The fiend was all but done consuming the unfortunate soul that had been taking a shit at the same time as me. I raised my axe like a Viking ready to pillage.
I channeled my Nordic heritage, felt the stumps of beard in my face grow a few centimeters, my arms swelling with the muscles of an ancient warrior.
I charged the fiend, striking it with one mighty incapacitating blow. It slumped to the floor.
Its arms were too slow to soften the fall and the impact sent pieces of shit in all directions, a few hit me, fueling my anger even more.
The gash I'd left on the fiend's poopy surface was oozing with a brown-red liquid. I smirked, satisfied with having delivered the first blow. I lifted my axe above my head and roared.
But my bravado proved to be devastating, I had given the fiend just enough time to gather itself, and it was now back on its feet.
To my horror, the fiend had now formed a face. The eyes and wrinkled lips were human, with the remaining features being made out of poop.
It stared into my soul with its beady, dead, bulging, human eyes. The pupils were impossibly dilated, bigger than the eyes of a deranged addict at the peak of a cocaine high.
It wobbled forward, poop-fists clenched, it swung and nearly hit me, but I leaned backward, narrowly dodging the blow like Neo from The Matrix.
The second blow did not go that well, it hit me in the left arm, instantly shattering the bone, twisting the entire thing backward in a disgusting manner.
I bellowed in agony as I regarded my mutilated arm. The pain was so much worse than I could possibly have imagined.
I thought I had already reached peak anger, but this was the catalyst that took me to a whole new plane of resentment.
As I ascended towards the culmination of all my anger, I reached the climax. My eyes thundered with red bolts of lightning; my entire field of vision was painted with the red of blood.
My anger was so consuming that I completely forgot about the agonizing pain in my ravaged arm.
I lifted the Poopslayer towards the heavens with my still function arm, accidentally shattering the casing of the ceiling light, causing a pure, unobstructed ray of light to shine upon me,
like the grace of God shining upon David before he slew Goliath. I pushed the axe with all my might, I gave the Poopslayer free reign to do its worst.
It smacked through the air, landing gracefully between the two nasty eyes of the beast, cleaving its head in two. Without hesitation, I delivered a second blow, and a third, and a fourth.
I hacked away, each hit more deadly than the other. The fiend lay lifeless on the floor, nothing beside remained but a decaying mass of poop, a colossal wreck, strewn across the cold tiles.
I screamed victoriously as the dead human-poop hybrid lay motionless in front of me. I danced around it, spat on it, mocked it.
Testosterone was still shooting through my body as I fed on the sight of the slain fiend.
Then it rose. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the fiend rose from the puddle of shit and blood.
It rose like a titan from the depths of the underworld, like a mountain being formed as continents collide, like a mighty star in the final moments of its life.
Its presence sucked all the energy out of me, drained me to the core, reduced me to a whimpering mess of dread and despair.
It loomed over me, like God finding out that Eve had eaten the forbidden fruit. It had full control over me, over the restroom, over the school, the world. Nothing would stop it.
It was immortal, a god, a demon, it was the Poop Fiend, the ultimate foe.
Its wounds had healed, its body had expanded even further, its eyes were now thundering like mine had been just moments before.
I felt its hatred as it stood over me, drops of shit dripping down, a stench worse than death grabbing me by the nostrils, so toxic I could feel the hairs in my nose catch fire.
As it regarded me, it deliberated for a few seconds before it produced an awkward "thank you". It spoke with a wet, gravelly voice.
An inhuman grin grew across its face as it finished speaking, revealing rows of sharp, yellow teeth. It was thanking me for having given it life.
This was the end of our interaction, a primal gesture of gratitude before my impending death. It bit me in the stomach, ripping out a chunk of flesh, fat, and viscera.
It gobbled it down like a hungry lion, then it took a second bite. I felt myself drift out of consciousness, felt the world spin around me, I was falling, falling forever.
The opening of the hole I had fallen into seemed so impossibly far away, just a faint source of fleeting light. It shrunk from the size of a ball to that of a pea until it simply disappeared.
For a few seconds, I was floating in vast emptiness, an endless, pitch-black void. I was dead.
All of a sudden I came to. I was looking though the eyes of the Poop Fiend, I was a part of it, but it was in control.