This is a creative essay I wrote for my senior year humanities class. It's on "Heart of Darkness", by Jospeh Conrad. The assignment was to take a quote, and then describe the character who said it. I was rather pleased with mine, and kept it. I just thought I'd share.
"The horror, the horror."-Kurtz.
Darkness. Spreading her legs in invitation, tawdry and intriguing. A whore whose price is too high to pay. But irresistible, her face veiled, imperfections hidden. The jungle is her bordello, deep and mysterious. The shadows hide the true danger, perfumed mist rising in the dampness. A world alone, shrouded and hidden. Once you've gone in, you can never come out. The darkness traps you with her lies and promises, whispering into your consciousness, caressing your dark side. The jungle changes you, shapes you, rapes you and makes you its own. You can't fight the darkness, the open wounded hideousness, black and ragged. You cannot look away. It is a wave, brackish and sickly sweet; ride it out or plunge in. Breathe it in, lose yourself in it. It's taint sinks in, wrapping around your soul like tendrils of hatred. Brightly colored flowers hide sweltering cesspits, and jungle vines cover the bloodstained ruins. There is no focus. Jagged edged symmetry dissolving into muted simplicity. Crisp clear colors blurring and blending into a battlemad haze.
Abandon law and reason and righteousness. Blood is law here, blood and the spear, held by demented tyranny, beautiful madness, primordial chaos god. They say the myths are dead, they lie! It is the way of the strong to prey on the weak, and the meek shall inherit the dust to which they must return. Check your sanity at the door, mate, and welcome to the jungle.
Kurtz's jungle. He was the first to succumb, to fall victim to the temptation. Clean cut Mr. Military Man gone AWOL in the jungle. Slumming, as dirty as he can get. Bedding the darkness and conquering the jungle. Mr. America turned demon god in the wilderness. A madman with a gun, he's a warrior poet in the loosest sense. Gone back to his roots, way back, to the place in his mind where fear is his tool. He's got it all. Brains, brawn and a freaking big gun. Don't mess with him, or you'll find your head on a pike. Barbarianism mad flesh, Machiavelli's law manifested as man. Watch your tongue.