Dr. Cimmerian Vs Existential Dread
rating: +21+x
The Following Tale Has Insufficient Lighting

( It's a bit dark.)


Jeremiah Cimmerian suffered from Apeirophobia1, so when Existential Dread crawled through the back window that had been left open that hot summer night, it found him to be the tantalizing prey.

It surprised him in the kitchen bursting out from shadows like a Billy Mays’ infomercial.
Jeremiah was quick to react, pulling out his colt revolver and firing on the metaphysical thing three times with lightning reflexes. Being merely a mental concept, the bullets passed through the thought, hitting the housekeeper instead.

Luckily, two of the shots weren’t fatal.

The next day Dr. Cimmerian went to the Foundation in hopes of getting help with his Existential Crisis.

The Board informed him that they were no longer dealing with Existential Dread and instead focusing all their attention on Cosmic Horror and that he should leave his personal problems at home.

“But We Contain, Secure, And Protect!” Cimmerian yelled in protest, arguing his point using sound logic, a twenty page power point presentation, and enough passion and soul to make a jazz singer gush.

The counsel was having none of it, and advised him to drop the subject like a sick beat.

The only one who seemed to want to help was Dr. Glass who is a sweet peach and I love him.
Unfortunately the anti-depressants Dr. Glass prescribed didn’t go well with Cimmerian’s nightly supper of Maalox and Bourbon and were long forgotten before any real effect could take place.

Defeated, Jeremiah accepted the empty void of existence, going so far as to buy it food and water dishes along with a cozy pet bed for it to sleep in. He got it spayed and chipped, putting in all the necessary paper work, as any good owner would do, and named it Kierkegaard after a philosopher he used to quote in college to impress girls.

Every day when Jeremiah got home after work, Kierkegaard would be there waiting for him by the front door as a reminder that his choices didn’t matter and any decisions he would make he would end up regretting.

This constant exposure to dark truths of life agitated the deep emotional scars that took up nearly half of Cimmerian’s body and they soon began to fester and rot from the inside out, dropping chunks of himself as he would wander his empty apartment; but by then Jerimiah had become comfortably numb to his situation.

The O-5s took a serious look into the matter and seeing that it had no effect on his work performance, deemed it an appropriate amount of suffering and renewed his contract for another five thousand years.

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