Confined in the Void of Insanity

XI. The End is the Answer

He placed his only good arm onto the table, took a deep breathe, and began slamming the side of his neck into the edge. He choked but continued going. Every time the clock ticked twice he would go again.
Tick. Tick. Slam. Tick. Tick. Slam. Tick. Tick. Slam.
He yelled again and started slamming his neck into the table mercilessly, but to no avail. Every hit only induced more pain. He began to feel light headed and fell to the floor. In the middle of the room, he lied on his back. His severed right arm still in immense pain, the blood falling from it creating a bed of his inner fluids, and his inability to breathe correctly due to the neck slamming. He cried and touched his neck. He'd created an opening that also gushed blood. The contact with it stung and he cried even more. Why wasn't he dead? Why couldn't he die? As he lie in a growing puddle of his own blood, the ticking of the clock grew even louder. Louder and louder. It echoed through his ears and ticked again. His eyes shut tightly as the clock ticked. He let out an agonizing scream and grabbed his ear. He held the base tightly and began pulling. His lips opened but his blood covered teeth stayed shut tightly. He pulled the ear with his only good hand and put in an unholy amount of pressure. The ear began to severe from his head. The skin detached slowly and painfully. The screams of agony continuously filled the room, as the pain he was in was undoubtedly unlike any of his past experiences. The ticking of the clock faded in one ear but in the other it was the only thing he heard. He finally managed to tear his own ear off, the pain not even comparable to that of his severed arm. He reached around to the other side of his ear and began to pull similarly. It was removed with a little more effort than the last with only a little more pain induced. Soon he realized that he could no longer hear the ticking, or his own cries, or the blood spilling from his body and onto the floor.