Truly Kafkaesque.

Kafkaesque,

The ideology that was established by Franz Kafka himself, embodying the nightmarish qualities of realism brought into the world of fantasy.

His work, during his days, weren't that much all recognized. It was recognized when his friend didn't burn his writings; which he asked in his death bed, but instead published them to the public. There, it gained praise from literary critics and authors alike.

His life was never that easy, as to been sexually tortured and has been indulging in incessant womanizing, fearing sexual failure. I believe this is because of how his father perceived him to be a failure, falling on to the depths of wanting to be accepted.

As Kafka wanted, he never truly wanted fame but rose after his death.

Talk about silver lining, or was it?

The meaning of life is that it stops. - Franz Kafka

Anyways, here's my piece that's been inspired in his craft, hope you let me know your thoughts.

I woke up to the radiance of the morning sun befalling through my face. I was about to get up to brew my morning coffee but then realized, I’m in a hospital bed with a patient wristband. I don’t recall of having an accident nor having major injuries. This is truly weird; I took a peek around my surroundings and eventually at the window pane. I guess I’m in the 20-25th floor, I could almost see the whole goddamn city. The place is a ghost town, no cars, no people, just plain empty. I tried to force myself to get out of this dream state but to no avail. I guess this is no dream, I thought to myself, battling the feeling of anxiety and panic.

Lucky enough I didn’t have a dextrose attached to my veins, or else it’s going to hurt like hell. I got up to explore the hallways, got out of my room, only to see the empty hallway of the floor I’m in. I guess I’m at the 23rd floor of the hospital based on the sign at the end of corridor. I approached the nurse’s station, only to see a note that I have to go out as fast as I can. I was perplexed, how the fuck am I going to go out if I don’t even know how I got in? It was the only thing that was there and everything is just, again, empty.

I start to make my way below, desperately finding my way out. Elevator’s busted so I took the stairs that’s placed every end of a hallway. As I expected, every floor is empty. But when I reached the 17th floor, I hear a distant whistling sound coming from beneath the floor I am on. Hearing footsteps, looks like he’s also looking for his way out, I hastened my pace, desperate for some company in this desolated place. When I reached the 14th floor, the whistles turned to a hysterical laugh, the mixed frustration and hope became pure fear in an instant.

It was already the 13th floor, I crept slowly and took a peek, he was in the middle of the corridor. he laughed and he laughed and he went inside one of the rooms. I sighed in relief and quickly made my way to the end of the corridor for the stairs.

Only to find there was no stairs.

Only to find he went out of the room.

Only to find the he has a knife in his hand.

Only to find the he’s running towards me with his hysterical laugh and mutilated face.

Only to find, death.

-Marcmire

Resources:

https://40.media.tumblr.com/dfb92d9c31e56dd94062612a2d91aad4/tumblr_n5th16lA271qlv3wlo1_500.jpg

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/b/b4/Kafka.jpg/1200px-Kafka.jpg