. .:::::. .::::::::. ...:::::::::.. :::::::::::: ..:::::::::::::::::.. ::::: :::: .::: ::::::: :::. :::::. : :: ::::: :: :::::::. : ::: : :::::::::. ::: :::::::: ::: ::::: ::::: : :::: ::::: oxic :::......:::: hock .:::::::. ::::::::::: ::::::::::: ::::::::: presents Poison Ivy by -Bloody Afterbirth- Toxic File #62 Centre of Eternity : 615.552.5747 12/24 40 Megs Headquarters of Toxic Shock. Lotsa files online. Tudor Nightmare Village : 615.928.6071 3/24 Bloody Afterbirth's main hangout. Lunatic Labs : 213.655.0691 What a board SHOULD be. !*#^$%@&!*#^$%@&!*#^$%@&!*#^$%@&!*#^$%@&!*#^$%@&!*#^$%@&!*#^$%@&!*#^$%@& I just got some major poison ivy all over my bod... While I was engaging in my current hobby of itching and oozing, I began to wonder what thoughts would roam through the mind of poison ivy, if it were conscious. Why does it feel the way it does? This is what it told me. &@%$^#*!&@%$^#*!&@%$^#*!&@%$^#*!&@%$^#*!&@%$^#*!&@%$^#*!&@%$^#*!&@%$^#&! Here comes the man. The machine he carries...I watch it. It makes much noise when he pulls upon a trigger. It spins a small string of some nature around and around. And the screams of pain coming from my brothers fills my minute ears. Thoughtlessly, he chops away at a lifeform he does not understand. This deed must be repaid. I prick up a few leaves... He does not know what my kind looks like... I am just another unwanted thing to him. He brings the Noisy Death to me. I shake my leaves and quiver my stalks. He notices me now; I am all that is on his mind. His finger squeezes upon the trigger, the whirling thread of death approaches me... what will it feel like? will i die? no. The mortal one shall know my anger. AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! Weeds and grass cringe as my cries ring out across the lawn. Never have I felt such a PPAAIINN!!! It slashes into me, over and over and over...over and over...the noisy buzz of his weapon rips into my very being...he tears and rends at me...the pain no longer bothers me...stripped from my roots, my feeling has gone. His spinning weapon provides me with what I need. Upward acceleration. I call to the wind...it comes in answer... My shredded leaves float into the air, propelled by the madman's murder machine and by the soft, carressing vengeance of the wind. I land upon his skin...his face and his arms...his legs and hands...his chest... I send my oils into his body...He brushes at my pieces, rubbing them down his skin, forcing even more oil out of me and into my victim...all over him do I fall...my juices of revenge...seep..into his..body..my consciousness.. it fades..sleepy...tired..is..this death?....the wind..whispers.."sleep.. sleep my friend.." How long have I slept? Is this an afterlife? No...how foolish...I grow around these silly mortals and begin to pick up on their childish fears...I cannot die...but my purpose has now changed. Protector of the land of plants, my job has but begone. This young son of Adam has destroyed much...the pain he has caused and ignored must be returned upon him..three fold. There. His right wrist. Rash. Lower left arm...a small welp. Legs, a slight itch. The sweat of his labors gives my oils a medium to flow through. He notices the rash...I devote attention to it...I itch. An attempt to ignore me angers me. Increase the itch. Now he gives me attention... Scratch me. Scratch me, foolish one, and begin to know true pain. He scratches...oils are released, and his motions of the hand spread me further along his skin, rubbing me deeper...I send him a feeling of pleasure and of relief...gratitude for scratching me...he thinks it helps...and it does...it helps me considerably. He brushes his legs against his recliner. I spread fire through his legs. He must scratch. And scratch he does. He rubs me and mine against the chair...stronger I make the flames...harder he does force me to the chair, and deeper and wider does he spread my lotion. Enough for now, I send him apparent relief. He touches the welp...scratches a bit more on his rash... I send my juices to his fingers as they near my surface. The moron..he rubs the sweat from his face with the very fingers he has soaked my poison upon...more surface to spread onto...ahhhhh...he rubs me into his forehead, and down the side of his face...I itch his skin ever so slightly, and he rubs me down his neck too... I tell my brothers of oil to do the work they do best...infecting. Tired have I become..again I sleep..and the son of man thinks I have gone. I survey my handiwork and that of my brethren. The rash has spread down his arm as I slept...the oily ones have taken root and begun to flow under his skin. The welps begin to swell, his legs continue to itch. And he continues to scratch. Constantly does he aid me in my revenge against him. Foolish one. Three days have I directed the attack. The general of an army of poison forces, I have penetrated his defenses. Now have I covered half of his body. He knows, now, that I am here and what I am. Does he know why I am? Can I communicate the pain he caused by mercilessly slaughtering innocent weeds and grass? I send heat and fire, itching and swelling, through all the surfaces I cover. The pain wracks his body..mind..spirit. He does not know what to do. Nail polish he places upon me. I have overestimated his intelligence. Do I appear to be a chigger? Pop me, man child. Yes. He pops my bubbling pus factories. My juices spread down his hand......a fertile field he sows my seeds upon. A crop of pain and suffering he shall reap. Rise my brothers...rise and spread...conquer...swell up and ooze, that he may know disgust and contempt...let no mortal look upon him with favor... make him to be as a leper...Let him place his puny bandages upon our flowing juices...let them absorb us...and spread through the fibers, come down where you have not been before...he thinks if we are on a fabric that we cannot spread...As we are wet, so do we live. He knows us not. But brothers..soon...soon he must needs know us. We must prepare... Our time is short...the beast shall rise up to halt our attack...have faith, be strong my brethren.. OOoooooohhh....salve...a lotion...long have I desired such a soothing massage of creamy liquids...his fingers bring a pink glob to my surfaces, and he rubs them in...spreading my ooze even so...he rubs it in...ohhhhhh it feels sooooo good...I inflame the rest of myself so that he knows I want it all over me...he obliges me...I send feelings of sweet relief to him, for this is a pleasure I do not get often... I bask in the glory of this wonderfully sweet thing for awhile...then I remember the needless deaths this man has caused. Time for us to act again my beauties. His back and chest. Itch. ITCH! Goddamnit I said ITCH! He ignores our attack. I send my command through my entire being, concentrating on one spot on his back. Still he does not scratch..still he registers no sensation of pain. What sorcery is this? What black curse has fallen upon us? Does this child of man know a magick that can stop even me? Yet I live. I know no pain...Indeed, I still feel good. Ahhhh...it is no black curse...it is a pink one. The salve. Now do I begin to see the foolishness of this man demonstrated again. He spreads his own lotions upon me so he is no longer bothered by my inflaming and itching. Fine. ATTACK! While he does not feel us! SPREAD OUT! SMEAR YOURSELVES WITH HIS CLOTHING! HE NOTICES NOTHING! COVER AND DIVERGE! RUN AND OOZE! Ooooh YES my slimy brothers and sister, INFEST this vile one with our wrath! Heat thyselves; I give the Itch unto each of thee! Increase in magnitude! This abomination of pink juice will wear off, let him know TRUE PAIN when it does! Continue the attack! Move out and destroy! .....pain.....i don't feel so good......something's not right..... something's coming over me.....what the fuck is this? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHH!!!!!! The PAIN! The HEAT! AARRRRROOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHWWWWWWWWWWWWGGGGHHHH!!!!! His fingers dig into my forces, more juices does he send into me... a clear lotion...and now a white lotion....Oooooh a PLAGUE!!! I begin to choke! Suffocating fumes fill my tiny nostrils, my every pore covered with the stench of his vile cream! Ooooohhhh....my children...as he rubs you, spread...outward and beyond... go my little ones...he will not cover the areas he does not know have been infected...spread to the clean areas..hide...await my next command...... tight...oh so tight...a bandage...more bandages...what parts of me were greatest have begun to dry...as i am wet i live...as i dry, i die...i send my liquids oozing...it spreads some, but not much...the man has a weapon i had not foreseen...but no matter...the rest of his body...soon... Yeeeessssssssss....yes my babies....welcome....he has forsaken his duties....some of me dies and he thinks it shall continue its course...foolish manthing. The only thing that will continue with me is my ATTACK! Begin the invasion once again!! New pods, open and spread, burst and send your juices flowing!! The vengeance of the deaths of our brothers is our cause!! yes we will die eventually, but let this one know more pain!! let this one suffer at our hands!!! Arms, swell...blistering, good. Burst some. Legs inflamed. Some heat energies...increase the itch of his body...his medicine runs out, and he is so disgusted at the form I take that he cannot bear to spread the medicine completely...is this the way he attacks me? Does he wish to let me run my course? I am PERMANENT!!! What can he do to stop me?!?!?! Does he think I will grow weary of torturing his delicate flesh?!!??!????! The warrior of the garden, become bored with my sole purpose?!?!!! His stupidity impresses me. Coooool..cold...I do not like this...this room is too cold...white room, some light blue decorations..this room gives this son of man a relaxing sensation through his mind. Where is this place, and what does he have in store for me? He has begun to ignore me and mine. Our pain does not bother him quite so much...he does not scratch us, he does not stimulate me to an erection of my blisters, he no longer takes me to an orgasm of my poison... and this room, it scares me. A man enters the room. "Damn..you've got it all over you, eh?" He looks at me as he speaks. "Yeah! Went cutting some weeds and next thing I new, this stuff was everywhere..spreads like wildfire. Didn't know I was allergic to it." My host discusses me...He flatters my ability to spread...but why is he talking of me? Why does he seem so calm? "Well, there's no doubt that it's poison ivy," the man says so calmly that it frightens me. "A nurse will come in and give you a shot in your hip. If it doesn't clear up by Friday, come back and get another one." Relief and gratitude eminate from my victim. Clear up? ME? A woman comes in. "Pull your pants down a litte. Good. Now turn around.." A shiny metal thing...oh so small..OOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWW!!!! AAARRRGGGH!!!! It penetrates his skin and enters his blood stream!!!! Flames erupt within me!!! His body's own defenses turn against me!! What have they done to me?!?!!!? ...i...dry up...the..shot it..has done too..much dam..age...for me to... continue...my..existence..draws to an..end... but...the man...he knows..relief...and cannot..know relief..if he... did not know pain...my job...complete...my cycle...coming..to its close... i hear the call of my earth brothers...they welcome me home again... my immortal being removes itself from my host...the ground comes up to me... or i down to it...i am under the surface...roots? ahhh...another body... another set of lifeforms to protect....much better do i feel...peacefulness. my Earth Mother sends me warmth and love....i did well.... (c)June 1990 Bloody Afterbirth/Toxic Shock