JACKMOUTH:
✹ STORY ✹
November 0f 2007 - February of 2015
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This story covers an expanse of seven and-a-half years, centering around Nikolette Ruzicka's slow metamorphosis into something unknowable. She, her partner (whom she is irrevocably obsessed with), her twin, and their two other friends live in a dilapidated house on the shore after graduating high school. Niko is inhuman. She can die, but is always doomed to be brought back. She keeps hearing stories about a sailor named Ol' Finneas. Dead things keep washing ashore. Because her sense of reality has been slipping for a very, very long time, the world she inhabits is viewed through a lens impossible to understand.
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"What I'm trying to get across is that there is nobody worth saving, here. So much has happened. Christ, so much has happened. And the worst part is that none of it connects; none of it matters in the long run, because I still can't comprehend any of it. There are only three things I know for sure. One: I have died before, multiple times. Two: Jackmouth is the home of something Lovecraftian. Three: I am Pyotr Ivanovich Novikov's soulmate.
Watch me rip myself apart and sew a fleshy quilt from the pieces. I will kill myself in a million different ways, and in the act of digging my fingers into the concave space between the slats of my ribs and ripping whatever I can out, there will be the same kind of eroticism that exists in both sex and cannibalism. Kiss me. Use your teeth."
November 0f 2007 - February of 2015
✹✹✹✹✹✹
This story covers an expanse of seven and-a-half years, centering around Nikolette Ruzicka's slow metamorphosis into something unknowable. She, her partner (whom she is irrevocably obsessed with), her twin, and their two other friends live in a dilapidated house on the shore after graduating high school. Niko is inhuman. She can die, but is always doomed to be brought back. She keeps hearing stories about a sailor named Ol' Finneas. Dead things keep washing ashore. Because her sense of reality has been slipping for a very, very long time, the world she inhabits is viewed through a lens impossible to understand.
✹✹✹✹✹✹
"What I'm trying to get across is that there is nobody worth saving, here. So much has happened. Christ, so much has happened. And the worst part is that none of it connects; none of it matters in the long run, because I still can't comprehend any of it. There are only three things I know for sure. One: I have died before, multiple times. Two: Jackmouth is the home of something Lovecraftian. Three: I am Pyotr Ivanovich Novikov's soulmate.
Watch me rip myself apart and sew a fleshy quilt from the pieces. I will kill myself in a million different ways, and in the act of digging my fingers into the concave space between the slats of my ribs and ripping whatever I can out, there will be the same kind of eroticism that exists in both sex and cannibalism. Kiss me. Use your teeth."
