Good evening, and welcome to my blog.
I bring you a dark tale tonight – a tale that I had all but erased from memory, until I stumbled upon it yesterday. The full horror of it came flooding back to me, like some kind of horrible, wet boomerang.
So I thought I would share it with you.
666 – The Shoe Size of the Beast
I have a mysterious ailment. No, not that one – I’ve been to the doctor about that, and have got some cream.
I’m talking about the appearance of a Black nail on my second toe on my left foot (just in case you thought the picture above was of my right foot – and thought it was horribly deformed). The blackness of the nail is caused by bleeding beneath the nail. The black “stuff” is just blood that has congealed. However, one question springs immediately to mind:
Why am I bothering you with this?
Okay, two questions spring to mind. The one above, and this one: how did I get this black nail? From looking at it, I would expect that bleeding of that degree – enough to discolour my nail – would have been accompanied by some degree of pain, but I have no memory of doing anything to that toe that could cause such an injury to occur. In fact I can’t remember having any foot injury involving my toes at all. I have suffered with blisters on my heel on this foot, but that is right at the other end of my foot.
My nail has been like this for about a week now, and I have no clue as to how I got it. As I said above, if I had dropped something on it, stubbed it on something, tripped over something or done something similar, I think I would have remembered. But, like the method with which to undo a lady’s bra, it remains a mystery to me.
So in the words of Sherlock Holmes, once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains – no matter how improbable – must be truth.
I have suffered no trauma to the toe in question, or indeed to the foot to which it is connected. It is not a form of fungal infection, for it would have spread to the neighbouring toes by now. And I haven’t been cleaning my toe nails with a fork again – inadvertently jabbing the prongs under my nail when surprised by a sudden knock at the door. So there can only be one possible answer:
My toe has turned evil.
For some reason, known only to itself, the second toe on my left foot has turned from the light and has embraced the dark teachings of Satan’s Chiropodist himself. I’m not sure how this has happened – perhaps it was tempted by those really expensive trainers I looked at last weekend, or maybe the pedicure set I have originally belonged to a jackal. Whatever happened, it’s not good.
I woke up this morning to find a tiny pentagram drawn on the bed sheet, and a small pen nestled between my big toe and second toe. My big toe was a white as a sheet, and had clearly been coerced into helping by my second toe with promises of ruling all the feet on earth with it. If I’m not careful, it will be trying to sacrifice virgins next.
I try not to think about it during the day. I wear the thickest socks I have – but every night when I get home from work, that toe has burnt a hole right through the sock.
Clearly, I need to act fast before all the other toes are converted to evil by my second toe and all turn against me. They’ll make my feet run me into things until I knock myself out, and then will drag me unconscious behind them as they go about their evil ways.
Luckily, Scholl have brought out an exorcism foot cream – made with holy water mixed with fragments of the actual odour eaters worn by Moses. And 45% moisturising lotion. All I have to do is apply it every day for a week, signing “All things bright and beautiful” and it should do the trick. Of course that’s if the toe lets me – which it won’t. It will most probably try to kick the cream out of my hand, or kick me to death. Or do both.
I may have to break my own ankle.