For He Who Forces The Feces – A 5 Minute Creepypasta Tale From 2020TOO

He squeezes his eyes tightly together while he pushes with all the strength that he has left inside his hobbled shell, as he forcefully tries for what could be the last time, to dislodge the obstruction that sits within the walls of his bowels. He grits his teeth together, hissing and spitting as the rage pent up within him escape through the canals between his teeth. His fingers grip the toilet bowls rim, he arches his head proudly towards the sky and drives his feet downwards, digging them into the floor below.

A stuttered breath escapes his lungs as they collapse beneath the pressure. Then, as the light is sucked from within his weakened form an explosion cries out inside his brain, and he eyes shoot open with wild writing, written across them. A gasp is all he can manage as his body is overwhelmed by pulsating contractions that squeeze the throat of his arsehole tightly closed, then as quickly as it closes, it opens widely once more and he begins to push all over again, forcing that which is in, out.

“Splendid!” a gravelly voice coos from the sidelines, with a gently clap of hands long since frail.

“I-I-I, I DON’T N-NEED A-A FUCKING C-CHEER SQUAD!” Darren spits, as he casts a wild glance over to the robed geriatric that stumbles blindly around the room.

“You say that, yet you still sit there lacking conviction with your desires, a conviction a cheer squad can help you achieve. I am that c….”

“YOU’RE A-A PIECE OF SHIT, T-T-THAT’S WHAT Y-YOU ARE! A-A-A PIECE OF SLIMLY SMELLY S-SHIT W-WHO ONLY WANT’S THE SITUATION TO BENEFIT H-HIM AND NO O-ONE ELSE!” Darren snarls with teeth bared.

He chackles loudly, “Ouch, have you been working on that insult for some time, or is it new?” the old man scoffs, displaying a mouthful of rotten teeth.

“D-D-DO WE HAVE TO DO THIS NOW!”

“What better time than now, you are latched onto your seat with persistent passion, and I, I have all the time in the world,” he says with another maniacal cackle.

“T-THIS IS YOUR D-DOING, I-I-ISN’T IT? Y-Y-OU’VE PUT ME HERE!”

“I’d love to take the credit for your current state,” he says with a broad smile across his wrinkly lips as he curtsies playfully. “But to this I am an innocent party.”

“BULLSHIT! T-THIS HAS YOUR NAME WRITTEN ACROSS IT!”

“You humble me with your beautiful words, I cannot take them. I suggest you turn that pity light of yours inwards and shine it upon the fragile corpse that houses your undying spirit. Maybe there you will find the true barer of your misdeeds.”

“A-A-Are you t-trying to say a-all this i-is my fault?”

He laughs a demonic cackle. “I am not trying to say anything else but that one thing. For you see, mankind has been a burden upon this plane of existence since the dawn of time, treading on what they perceive to be the steps towards the next level, when in reality each step you pathetic vermin make, is just another mindless step in the wrong direction. You should be digging down, not voyaging upward, for the true answers lie in the very ground you stand upon.”

“W-W-WHAT THE HELL A-A-A-ARE Y-Y-YOU TALKING A-A-A-ABOUAAARRRRGGHHHHH!” he screams as another pulsating contraction takes over his body, and once gain he presses himself downward trying to force whatever is inside, out. At first a gas singes the hairs of his nose, quickly followed by the force of a thousand jet engines, and finally an explosion, as his arse erupts. His eyes open wide, and his jaw drops as a vacant expression crashes across his now pale face like waves of an angry sea.

“How sweet the smell of rotten eggs,” the old man cackles as he fades from view as Darren topples from the toilet bowl, and to the titled earth below, his eyes void of life.

Minutes pass into seconds before a shit laden hand grips the rim of the toilet, and a child pulls itself free from the bowls grip. He looks around the room, and down upon Darren’s motionless corpse.

“D-D-Daddy?” the child stammers as it smiles broadly, displaying a mouthful of shiny sharp teeth.

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