Σάββατο 8 Δεκεμβρίου 2012

By The River



Illustration masterfully brought to you by Vaggelis Ntousakis. http://www.facebook.com/the.grue (all rights reserved)



“I killed a man here, once. On this river bank. I think it was right...there. Yeah, that's the spot. You can still see the stain he left as he bled out on the ground. I remember looking at all this blood pooling ‘round him, flowing between the rocks, thinking ‘this can't be happening, can it? A guy can't have this much blood in him’. He whimpered all the time, though. It's the whimpering I can't stand. See, when a guy's about to die, he kind of...regresses. He turns back into a little sobbing ape, crying for help to the rest of his pack. Had to push him underwater to make him shut up. Little ape went down like a stone, met all the other dead apes in the bottom. It's full of it down there, you know. I bet if you stacked them on top of one another, you could build a house out of all the dead in just the bottom of this river. Hell, you could get some good furniture out of the deal too. Moldy beds, old couches that grampas died in, baby trolleys. I think I'm gonna make me house out of all those dead things, one of these days.

“You’re cold, right? I can see you shaking like a leaf. Want my jacket? No? That’s alright. You ain’t gonna be cold for long. Mind if I smoke?”


Click-cli-click.

Fffft.
 
“Want a drag? No, of course you don’t. Then again, I wouldn’t have let you have it either way. Not after you tried biting my fingers off the last time. Gotta hand it to you though. You got some strong jaws on you. I bet you very nearly bit bone. It’s okay, though, I forgive you. It’s not your fault you’re here, after all. Well actually it kinda is, isn’t it? 

“Look. I’m gonna pull the gag off you. Gonna let you talk, okay? I don’t like talking by myself and I don’t think it’s humane to kill a person without them having a shot at a couple last words. But I need you to promise me you won’t scream. ‘Cause I swear to God, you scream and I’ll just stick this thing right here in your eyeball and that’ll be all.

“Theeere you go…it’s off. How does it feel? Any better? I bet it is. Try and move your jaws a little bit, wiggle your tongue in your mouth, wet it a little. Don’t push yourself. Not gonna talk, are you?”

Ptoo!

“Heh. Sure as hell beats you sitting quiet over there. Gives you comfort, thinking that you fought back. Lot of people did that. Some just spat on me. Others…they tried harder. Didn’t make much of a difference. One sec.”

Flick.

Pssstt.

“I don’t want this to hurt. I’ve never wanted to hurt anybody. They told me I should do some horrible things to you, but I’m not gonna do them. Not just ‘cause you’re pretty. I’m not gonna do them because nobody deserves that. I’m gonna use this, okay? I’m going to stick it up your jaw, through the roof of your mouth and into your brain. You’re only gonna feel a pinch, I swear on my mother’s soul. Okay? Then your troubles will be over for good and you won’t have to worry about anything. How does that sound?

“Awful. It sounds awful. I’m an idiot for thinking that it would make you feel better. So I’m just gonna do it. Unless you’ve got something to say first, of course. I can’t deny you that.”

“Please…”

“What was that?”

“Please don’t…please…”

“That’s not helping any, love.”

“Don’t kill me, please, I’m pr-“

Slick.

“I know, love. I know.”

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