thegreatdanfango

Last night, in the wee small hours of the morning, my left hand, seemingly possessed by some kind of malevolent spirit, beat me to death.
I was woken not by the blows that must have been raining down on me for at least a few minutes, but by the blood that was filling my nose and throat, and inhibiting my snoring abilities.
Attempting to defend myself, I discovered I was almost completely paralysed. I certainly didnt have access to the motor functions necessary to raise my right hand to intercept my left, and so I could only lie there, watching my left hand beat me to death, through frightened eyes.
Then, via a change in perspective as subtle as it was sudden, I found myself standing over my recently vacated body.
I looked down at my soul, and was pleased to see that it was in considerably better shape than my body had been. More muscular, and noticeably slimmer. I decided this was indicative of the healthy spiritual side I had always maintained. My only worry was that my soul seemed to have no left arm. I can only assume that whatever presence had incensed it to such extreme violence had also annihilated its soul. This was not such a tragedy though, as I no longer had a great deal of trust to the particular limb.