Archive for the ‘Short Story’ Category

Growing close to madness, i frantically searched through the drawers, the cupboards, the closets, even the floorboards. The only place not searched must have been the walls, but even i knew the futility of the effort. Finding that someone had clearly deprived the dwelling of i what was the core of my lust i decided on a trip to the bone yard. Everything must be put back into place as found with no evidence of tampering. i had two, maybe three hours before the dark beckons me. That should be enough time. placing everything back into place just as i had i found it, i couldn’t help but wonder, ‘what man carries the hubris to search for that which has obviously been claimed by a murderer? Surely they understood the risk they take of depriving a madman of his delicacy?’…..It is no matter of importance now, i may be able to steal it back without being seen, then no more blood must be shed. If i am spotted however…… Oh! Just the thought makes my spine tingle and my hair stand on end! How I wish i am seen! But it can’t be done on purpose, that would be careless. They must spy me of their own accord. It’s getting dark out..I should get going. After walking several blocks, greeting those who pass by like any gentleman should, i reached my destination. Such a gut wrenching place, full of buried mestophilians that cry out to be saved from they’re own personal hell’s. Just being in it’s presence sickens me! However I have a job to do and i shall do it quickly. I walked down the path, carefully inspecting each name that was engraved on the stones. It was cold out, to the piont of freezing, but the winter air did me good. I had been cooped up so long, torn away from nature. Such exquisite beauty it held. So much that in a way it was hideous. Like a whore with too much make-up. No! I must not let my mind wander, i have a task to complete. After at least an hour of staring at these dead, forgotten names, i found the one i needed. I made sure no one was around and, like an animal, fell on all fours and began to savagely dig with my bare hands. Upon retrospect a shovel would have been useful but there were still some civilians out and it would seem quite suspicious if an average man walked into a cemetery with digging utensils. After hours upon hours of digging i hit something solid. The cage that held this spirit tight. I loosened it a bit more, and with all my strength pulled it out of the ground. Though lack of other tools i had been intelligent enough to bring a crowbar. I pried open the coffin and inspected it’s innards. oh how literal that term will soon become. There, in an orgy of rot and decay, was the body. The face, dark and lifeless, was that of a not so old man, probably in his thirty’s….not that it mattered now. I have wasted enough time, I concluded, and reached into the dark, dank, oblong box to claim my praise, and get my deed over and done with.  In my frantic excitement I got a bit careless and lost my grip on the rotting flesh, causing it to make a dull thud against the wood of it’s prison. With a trembling hand, I reached for the knife concealed in my front pocket. My breathing raced, and I could see my warm breath dancing in the chill of cool night air. I poked the point of my knife at the concealed flesh of the nicely dressed corpses collar bone. I had done this once before, it’s how I acquired the pulsating organ in the first place, however there was a…..witness, that was less than cooperative about the whole situation, let alone the stealing of the heart. Perhaps he returned it to it’s previous owner. I pressed hard, and injected the flesh with the cold steel of the blade. With one swift downward slash I tore out the staples that sealed shut my previously made gash. My nose was greeted my an explosion of raw decay, and other such things I could not explain. The smell was far too over powering for even my stomach and, feeling the return of my late night supper, vomited into the coffin that lay beside me. For a moment I just sat, staring, breathing. When I had found myself once again I let out a soft chuckle. Turning to my emotionless counterpart, solace found me in that I could still vomit of the stench of ones corroded self. It made me feel….slightly human. No matter, I proceeded with my duty’s a tad more cautiously. Whilst holding my breath, my hands found themselves at my knife’s point of entry. Tearing open the chest, I reached in and separated the weakened ribs. Making sure my breath was safe in the custody of my lungs, I peered inside. Nothing. It was all for naught, just a genuine wast of time. The sleep that could have been acquired, or the food that could have nourished me. But no, I had wasted my time awake in this godforsaken yard with all these forgotten bastards, and vomited my hard earned food, for this damned, empty body. In my rage, I pulled out my knife and stabbed the body several times before standing and kicking it with all my might. Staring at the body for a few moments, I eventually bent over to pick it up and hurled it back into it’s hellhole of a coffin, which i shoved back into the empty grave with my leg. I’m sure at the time I was aware of my lack of discretion but I was far to angered to care. Taking one last look at the hideous box, I began to refill the grave with it’s wretched soil. In the daylight there would be obvious signs that the grave had been dug, which would look suspicious, but I doubt anyone would wander further than suspicion. They would just figure that on authorized official had ordered the grave excavated for whatever bogus reason. That there would be gossip is certain, but as said it mightn’t stretch much further. Once again feeling the fruitlessness of this night I proceeded back the way I had come. I was at a loss as to my next step. Where to look, what to do. I suppose that’s all a matter for the next day. It would be best now for some rest. As I approached the cemetery gates I noticed a flock of men near the entry way, coming in my direction. This could be bad. It was easily four in the morning, no average man should be out right now. If they were drunks I need to just walk by unnoticed. If gang members then…well, things could get shifty. With every second the drew nearer and become simpler to see. They were but a few paces away now. It was then I noticed them behind me too. They were not drunks nor gangs. Then it hit me.
Oh hell, the police.
Even had I wished to turn back in some fruitless escape attempt, it would be futile. I was surrounded. This proposed me no opportunity to fret, perhaps they were here for business strictly otherwise than my goings on. Just as I had that thought occurred a flashlight shone in my face. I ceased my charade of acting on behalf of a good Samaritan.
“Sir, if could you please put your hands in the air,” the officer with light said. He, as most the other officers, wore a pitch black trench coat over what appeared to be dark bluish-gray pant legs, though it was hard to tell in the encircling dark. His hat would have been an exceptionally nice hat, had it not bore the title of the city police. In disagreement to his plead I kept my arms at my sides. We starred at one another for but a moment. “Now please.” He continued.
“But officer, may I ask what fo-” My humble protest was cut short by what seemed to be a slightly more enraged officer.
“He said now!” He shouted. Doing as I was so authoritatively told, I raised both arms into the air. They drew closer. The officer kept his flashlight on me as he approached, reaching into his trench coat, I supposed,  for handcuffs. “You are under arrest for the murder of Chester E. Lewdwigg,” he informed me. I couldn’t help but notice how that name angered me. Doing what any innocent man would, I began to protest, “Murder? What horrible bastard do you take me for?! And who is this ‘Chester E. Lewdwigg’? I’ve never heard the name! Which even had I known him, nothing he’s done could drive me to commit so damning an act such as murder!” They all seemed to ignore my protest. “Are you listening to m-?!” once again the more authoritative officer interrupted the flow of my speech with his unnecessarily brute like approach. “You keep that son-of-a-bitch mouth of yours shut ’til we get to the goddamn station. And if I hear you speak Chester’s name one more time, I’ll see to it myself that my own court of law charge you with death,” he declared as he grasped my face in his hand. Such foul disrespect. Perhaps my own ‘court of law’ should teach him some manners. Swiftly reaching in my front pocket for my knife, I flicked it out the weapon concealed at my hip hand swung at the insolent officer. In the line of my swing, I struck the officer that came to cuff my hands, slicing a gash in his left cheek, knocking him over. As a look of shock overcame the brute officer, my blade found itself engorged in the flesh of his abdomen. Warm blood splattered onto me and dribbled to the cold, cemetery pathway. “My apologies sir, but my judicial system fails to take kindly to such acts of impudence,” I sassed. He ave me an astonished look, as blood chocked it’s way up his throat. He starred at me more, and uttered but few words. ” Y-You….you bastard. Damn….d-damn you, you bastard.” I let him say his words, before delivering an upward thrust with my blade. Then he fell, dead. Such a sorrowful way to go, he should have said something more elegant. Just then I noticed all the other officials, all with there hand-pistols out, poised to fire. I wondered why they didn’t? Where they’re afraid to harm the now deceased officer? Or perhaps they wished not to harm the injured officer on the ground beside me. Who by the way, was now crawling up off the ground. He glanced around his surroundings, as though he had been delirious of the goings on. He noticed the expired corpse of his co-worker.
“Lewdwigg!” he shouted.
Lewdwigg? Now here was an interesting development. He must of been a relative of my previous victim. Well that explains why he acted towards me with such hostility. I suppose he had his reasons, but that is of no matter now. How odd though, that my first two victims would be of the some blood. My mind had no time to wander, she officer struck earlier was beginning his ascend. In a furious attempt to tackle me, he made a dash towards me, which I responded to with a simple kick, straight to his belly. As his being clashed for the second time with the ground, he pulled out his hand-pistol. A futile attempt, my foot had already crushed his arm with the weight of my body. As I kicked the pistol from his hand I could have sworn I heard at least one finger snap. Though He had a terribly bloody cheek wound, a most likely sorely painful stomach and a presumably broken arm and finger, he did an excellent job not dropping his gruff facade. I jumped off his arm and landed over him on all fours, penetrating the meat of his shoulder with my blade as I landed. He let out a cry of anguish as the blood seeped. I bent my head towards his ear, and whispered in my two cents, “This is why you don’t tangle with the professionals.” His only response was;
To my shock several guns went off and I was thrown off of the officer and onto the cold ground. I was struck in the thigh and shoulder, and was losing an immense amount of blood, or so it felt. My vision began to haze, and my brain began to throb. The last thing I saw was the man in the trench coat, towering over me like a triumphant statue.. Then my vision faded out.

Part 2 coming soon

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