WARNING: This story contains some graphic descriptions and is quite dark in nature. Be warned if you have a squeamish stomach or a weak heart.
The Blind Death
“You will never see my point of view on an eye to eye level!”
Sam bursts these words as he storms out his summer apartment furious in anger. He and his girlfriend, Sarah, had spent years together in a one-sided affair that only one person seemed to enjoy. Sarah’s constant selfish antics left Sam at a pause in their relationship mentally. He needed a vacation in his life as well as from hers. She pleaded his presence for an eternity, knowing what she has to offer him is more than eternal. He on the other hand, could only grant her an eternity of disappointment. She chased after his love the further it ran through time. Frequently she would visit a past that was only believable in dreams. His actions suggested total rejection while his heart recommended distant intimacy. Sam began to take his final steps in what otherwise was his never-ending attempt to place his soul in silent purgatory.
Days present and the rancid scent of shame helped fumigate Sam’s actions. He knew the only method to forget she exists was to erase her from his existence. The excessive vibrations of his phone created additional cracks to his already damaged kitchen counter. He begins to reminisce the moment he gave birth to cracked counter after hitting it with a large frying pan during an argument with his beloved. The receding response from answering interrupted his sentences to arrange a meeting, but the subliminal undertones were clear enough.
Sarah meets her questionable lover at a jagged park bench in gloomy weather which predicted thunderstorms. This encounter was not too far-fetched from their first date during a miserable indigo evening of downpour. People currently residing in the park suddenly began to leave as the atmosphere became less pleasant to bear. Though very few words were spoken over the phone, she wasted no time in pleading her devotion, regardless of Sam’s other intentions. She moves her lips towards his face as he moves his eyes towards the hand in his jacket. Her hand rests on his shoulder blade as his palm grips a sturdy handle. She then javelins her arms around his chest in tears as he thrusts his blade into her stomach. A vibrant rose river erupts out of her womb from the retracting dagger as her life-force peered endlessly into his eyes. After realizing what he had accomplished, Sam released his own life-force of leftovers he had previously consumed several hours before. Dark clouds of judgment smothered his mind as his body began to weaken. He collapsed face first in his own pile of filth in sweeping manner, as if he were a broom lost of purpose. He then rose soon after noticing the blackness in the sky being familiar to the clouds seen mentally. As his iris gathered information, he was disturbed by a radiant flash of ghastly light. A figure short in height, ash colored hair with a stench of death, with disintegrating albino skin mysteriously levitating before him. It’s almost as if she appeared in a photogenic blink, vanishing due to his dilated vision. Soon his attention was attacked as the image reappeared with oval shaped craters where her eyes should be located. Volcanic midnight oil leaked from them as if it was blood vacating a host. His voice box shattered as he yelped and his brain waves had stopped flowing, crushing any hope of elaborating the occurring events. Panicking was only the start of his race to hell.
Picking up his feet running as if they were hooves, he attempted to dash for an escape. As careless as he was, he stumbles over a stone crashing his elbow into a fellow one. The blood from the scar leaking in color of charred bricks was a splendid feast for maggots. His legs get pulled from beneath as the left side of his face grates across pavement and greenery. Kicking fiercely he is able to resist pressure, but turns around to witness the same illuminating figure standing above him. The image disappears again, but a strong impact makes contact with his ear traveling sharply to the side of his mouth. Once again he feels a strong force pulling behind him as he shifts his body to deserted images of a once populated park. His body is ravaged by being forcibly handled in different directions, straining him each time. It was as if people were grabbing him, but no one was in sight but horrifying flashes what appeared to a spirit. Only whispers were coming from his withered voice. His larynx clogged as if locusts had made their mark. In his last effort to fight this power he grabs his knife and proceeds to access the soft spot between the bloody craters of the figures eyes. Sam retains his grip on the blade cowering on the ground like a kidnapped child. His eyes remained closed in fear of opening them to another nightmarish disturbance from hell. Once his eyes opened his vision was blurred with tears and sweat like a truck through a rainstorm. What he saw was not only a reality, but far from what he expected.
He remained silent as his head jetted clockwise back and forth at his environment. Two police officers stood over him in bewildered terror, unable to process the current events. A mother and her two children paused no less than 15 feet away, with mouths open as wide the gash on the side of his face. As he peered towards Sarah’s lifeless corpse, he noticed the cake frosting of dry blood covering her eyes matching her previous wound. His thoughts accumulated what was not only an illusion, but a reality far too realistic for what just happened. He followed the trail of blood stained the length of the Nile down her body. The end of the trail formed a puddle where her purse stations itself soaked in the blood. Hanging out of the purse was a small white strip with an addition sign, but no numbers. At that moment, Sam realized what he had done and why Sarah tried to reach out to him. In his haunted illusions he had slaughtered her in front of on-lookers that were trying save her…and the life inside her. Unaware of how he brought demise to his own future, Sam looked around at the terrified faces watching in horror as he freely painted the vicinity red. A woman gazes into his eyes frightened while asking in fear, “How could you do this?” It was then that Sam did the only thing he could do. He reversed the tip of his blade towards his throat. The cops present bolted forward to stop him, but achieved their goal too late. The gash he made already punctured deep enough to end the existence of what was quite visible…eye to eye.
-K
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