Story im working on for Creative Writing. Some of the intended structural stuff didnt paste over. a couple spots are purposely written in different colors. let me know what you think.

============== THE GIFT OF ONEIROPHOBIA ================

Andrew once again drifted past the hazy concrete walls in this mute world. The cracked cement structure, in its apocalytpic granduear, rose from some shattered landscape far below. Darkness ahead, darkness behind, haze and the fog of war all encompasing and much like every other time he had stood within these corridors, Andrew shook uncontrollably.
His parents always told thier son "It is a gift..."
It is a curse...
"...apathy blesses those who desire to care."
...curses those who desire solitude.
but they weren't burdened with these thoughts, with haunting the halls of the mind and stumbling upon the strewn corpses of aquaintances whom have fallen victim to the ravages of pressure and decay.
To this day, Andrew remembers the first time he had walked this place.

"Mr. Las?"
Andrew poked his head from the cubicle, searching for the source of his interruption. His boss entered the cubicle before Andrew could minimize his game of solitare that laid spread across the computer screen.
"Andrew, there is a man in the lobby who... you know, I don't pay you to balance rows of cards, I pay you to balance accounts."
"Sorry Mr. Heus."
I'm not sorry.
"Anyway, There is a man in the lobby who is here to talk to you. He says his name is Pastor Applewhite Nettles. I believe..."
"Thats a weird name."
"He's kind of a weird guy... skeletal face, white hair.. anyway...I believe he is interested in hiring the firm to do his church's accounting. Go meet Him now."
Evan Heus turned as if he was caught in a strong current at the beach, half fighting to stay in place, half fighting to move ahead yet always being pulled under.

With his boss futily attempting to navigate through the sea of cubicles and myriad collared golf shirts, Andrew made his way to Pastor Applewhite. He stepped into the paneled elevator and headed down while "The Way Up" played unobtrusively in the cramped space - much like it did every day. The daily alternations between elevator and cubicle made Andrew feel like an astronaut. The elevator was his spaceship, the cubicle his little place on the other side of the comet. Thirty-eight floors later the doors opened and Pastor Applewhite stepped forward.

"Pastor Applewhite?"
"Call me Herff. It's my middle name. Your middle name my good friend?"
"Thomas."
Herff?
"That's a strong name..."
That's a weird name...

That night, Andrew's thoughts left him to wander a puddled reality. There was no light and the corners which he could percieve were illuminated only by contrast to the shadowed placed where mysteries lingered. As the solid, impassable concrete walls emerged, Andrew took too many right turns into places that could not possibly exist in space. The floor sank slightly and pools of the liquid that moistened the air, and his subconsciousness, became more frequent. Andrew turned another corner and for the first time, in this place, trembled uncontrollably.

It was the image that ravaged his body with convulsions - the scene before his eyes. From the abyss hung an immeasurably long chain, meat hooks dangling on the end. The chain dissappeared in Herff's crushed skull and emerged once again from the lower crevaces. Applewhite's mouth hung open and locked in an eternal scream. A scream that could be heard - a plea for help created to fill in space - even in this mute world. In the darkness, the bloodsoaked glistenings of the scene revealed their atrocities.

Rusting wire implants hung from the flesh of the Pastor and were wrapped around the necks of faceless heads that gently knocked into each other at the hanging man's knees. Their vomit dripped to the floor in swollen mounds resembling brain matter which slowly turned black and died. As the beheaded faceless visages allowed their thoughts to flow from their pores, Applewhite screamed for their servitude and eternal worship. He was their savior, He would lead them to heaven's gate and allow their souls to bless the True Saviors.

Andrew turned to run. He sped down the halls and navigated their turns. Each doorway he passed led him back to the blind brain-vomit spewing heads. He watched as in each doorway, the heads chewed each other's chains and were dropped to the floor. The imapled corpse shone with a pure light. Heads set loose they pursued Andrew.

Hundreds of heads all screaming and pleading. Their large eyes unblinking. They screamed in unison continuously:
" We are members of the Kingdom of Heaven. Meet us"

" We are members of the Kingdom of Heaven. Meet us"
No
" We are members of the Kingdom of Heaven. Meet us"
No
" We are members of the Kingdom of Heaven. Meet us"
No
" We are members of the Kingdom of Heaven. Meet us"
No
" We are members of the Kingdom of Heaven. Meet us"
No
" We are members of the Kingdom of Heaven. Meet us"
No
" We are members of the Kingdom of Heaven. Meet us"
No!

No!
Their cries faded as Andrew pushed them from his mind. His will, even in this place was powerful. He could hear their severed spinal columns scraping the floor in the distance but Andrew kept running. Kept fleeing from the abomination that hung somewhere in this maze of the mind. The doors sped by like sheet of paper in a flipbook. He passed visions of Appelwhite feeding his followers liquid poured from a dark glass vile. He saw the followers eagerly acception his poison. He saw them eagerly accepting their demise. Each frame led to another more ghastly image.

Ahead, a single steel door blocked Andrew's way. He opened it and stepped into a vast white space. A dry, calm space where his skin could dry and be once again part of his body and no longer an extension of the saturated air and it's tormenting wavelengths. Andrew, for a moment completely composed, allowed the clinical cleanliness of the space to remove the murky thoughts from his mind.
Flower
Wave
Sky
Universe
Drip
Dream
Pillow
Drip
Spring
Drip
Ice Cr...
Drip
Ic...
Drip

Drip
The dripping thoughts lingered. Forever infecting his mind, coating his ideaology.

Here Andrew was again - the same halls, the same doors. Each full of the darkest parts of life; the darkest parts of reality. How he found himself here every night was a mystery. Solitude didn't help. Any human connection found it's way into this place.
=====================================================

It's intriguing, certainly.

There's something about the grand guignol gore overdose that I'm not that keen on - I think it could be done more subtly - and the pastor character has a touch too much of the mysterious-but-creepy-guy-who-appears-OK-but-will-rip-your-spine-out for my liking. I'm not quite sure how something can be a "faceless visage" but that's by-the-by.

I think it needs a bit more work to get a proper atmosphere and flow but I'm interested to see what happens next or to get some more of an idea of what's going on.

I'm not sure if you've seen it already but you could try posting your work on the writers' site. It's free to join and you can often get useful feedback or comments. You might want to have a run through it with a spell-checker first as there's a couple of typos/errors.

Obligatory threadjack: You can read some of my stuff by following the following links. It's a serialised thing that I'm working only, slowly being released as handmade chap-books. very slowly, actually. I'm working on Volume 3 as we speak.

Volume 1 - http://www.oort-cloud.org/?q=node/70
Volume 2 - http://www.oort-cloud.org/?q=node/193

I giggled , sorry. I don't think you've quite got your groove yet, it looks like you've just thrown a bunch of ideas together and tried to thread them together, and what's going on with these different colours?