His face grows long and pale, tears run down his face, and fall to the ground, his world is crashing beneath him.
Her face serene, her body cold, slowly decaying turning to dust.
His lovely wife has been claimed my deaths clammy palms.
How sad the hand that fate dealed this man,
to live beyond his years.
His love is gone and so he lives only in their memories.
He can recall the day he met her, knew they were meant to be.
The last kiss was just as magical as their first.
All dressed in black, on top of green grass, the preacher speaks about his wife.
How wrong these words, no one can ever describe her soul.
Not even he, if he tried.
Another night alone, still he thinks of her, her laugh, her smile.
Another night he cries, he mourns, he misses and yearns.
He waits patiently for Death to come for him.
To take his soul and join his wife.
Years have passed, and he hears a voice.
Death hovers above his bed, and speaks.
“It is your time.”
He reaches for Death’s hand, full of warmth, full of life.
He’s going to see his love.
One day, he met a girl.
One day, he fell in love.
The night before the wedding day, he lay in a slumber, awoken by the voice of an angel.
The angel spoke, “A mistake is being made. A life with her will make you miserable and you will only feel pain.”
And the angel showed him the future, and in this future, the boy learned what real sorrow was, what real distress was.
He only shrugged it off and told the angel, “Without her, I am nothing. She brings the only meaning to my life, and a life without her would be very painful. I’d rather be with her in pain than without her.”
The angel shook in acrimony. “You fool!” it cried, tears of anger down his face.
Soon the boy realised that this was not one of heavens angels, but Lucifer himself.
The fallen angel left him, and the boy continued with his sleep.
In the morning, he woke again. Yet again, there was an angel by his side. Not the one from last nights visitation, but the angel of his lovely bride.
“Bonne matin, my love.” He whispered, “Our day has finally arrived.”
But a smile was not returned.
His bride opened her mouth and the words that came out filled him with dread.
“Last night, an angel came to my sleep. He warned me of a life with you. The future I saw filled me with despair. Sadness so deep it went to my bones and froze my blood. I wish to never see it again. We cannot wed.”
She handed to her groom a golden band and then she left. Forever.
Now this boy felt the horrors of which Lucifer had told him.
Without his bride, he was nothing.
This pain slowly tore at his flesh and he died.
Alone. Without his one true love.
The Perfect Game
Tik tik tik He lay on the floor of his flat, just staring at the ceiling. “What should I do today?” He asked himself out loud, his voice slightly startling him. The insomnia was killing him. He had been laying there on that floor for the past three sleepless days. Just staring at his ceiling. Wondering what he should do to pass his time. Talking to himself and his friends. He loved his friends, they filled up the empty whole in his heart. A voice whispered in his ear, he smiled. He let out a chuckle. “That’s a nice idea, my dear.” He looked over to the pearly white face of his clock. The golden seconds, minutes, hours, slowly ticking by. It was late… or was it early… the golden hands told him it was around four o’clock. Of course, he wasn’t certain if it was early morning or late afternoon. He positioned himself in the direction of his windows for a clue to what time it was. The dark heave drapes drowned out all light, if there was any. The voice kept whispering to him. Details running through his mind. His friends were so mischievous. He loved it. Telling him this, knowing how enticing it was. How could he not do it. It was perfect.“Brava, my friends, another brilliant plan.” He yelled out gleefully, laughing. Tears of joy in his eyes. Evening. Eight o’clock. Not so early, not too late. He walked the crowded streets, bright lights disturbing his sight. Quite a busy city, there were people everywhere. Walking in, walking out of stores. Laughing, yelling, happiness leaking from every orifice. He was revolted. He wondered if the disgust would show in his icy blue eyes. Would someone look into these oceans and flee in fear of his murderous thoughts, or would they just see his handsome face and lust after him? He knew that he was insanely gorgeous, if he wasn’t, everything he had done would not have happened. He wouldn’t have been able to pull it off. All those girls. They were all so perfect. So beautiful. Happiness in their eyes, laughs and smiles on their lips. The fear in their eyes, the whimpers on their lips. All so perfect. Completely flawless. He loved perfection. He loved beauty. He loved fear. He yearned for it. There was no trouble in finding that perfect girl, so many perfect creatures in this city. He knew where to look. He knew how. He was a chest master annihilating pawns. Checkmate. Game won.
I pulled the heavy glass and steel door of the bookstore. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and multi-flavour syrups greet me. It seems that all bookstores have a café nowadays. All those pseudo-intellectuals can have a latte or cappuccino as they read their Kafka or Dickens, or whatever they think is cool to read and look smart. I find this café very conformist. I dislike it. Then again, there isn’t much that I do like. If it had been up to me, I’d be long dead. I can remember staring down at the streets from the highest building I could enter. All the little rainbow colored spots, all in a crowd. I could imagine their laughing as they went on with their lives, not noticing the crazy suicidal man towering above them. My friends…they cared. They convinced me to stay alive.. They told me I could do something with this life. They were the only ones who cared about me…. I need to stay focused. No need to linger in the past. I need the now. I need her. I need to keep moving. I could feel the dizziness setting, the room shook as I walked, but I still managed to do it. And may I add, I did it quite coolly. I entered the art section. I stood at the end of an aisle. There were a few people there, but she stood out the most. She was more than perfect. She stood there on beautiful long tan legs, a bit thin, but utterly perfect. Her long hair undulated down her back, wondrous waves of honey. She was absolutely stunning in her flowered summer dress. I wanted her. She must have sensed me staring at her, she glanced up at me, staring at me with direct eye contact. I held it, but she quickly dropped her gaze back down to the Rembrandt book she had been looking at. She was already entranced with me, watching me as I walked past her to the other end of the aisle. I grabbed a book off of the mahogany bookshelf and pretended to study it. Flipping through the pages, stopping at some of the illustrations. She was still watching me. I turned my head to her , which she certainly noticed because her startled green eyes ran away and her cheeks went slightly pink. This was being very easy. I hoped she’d be fun. Chills went through my body as I imagined what I would be doing to her. Time to make another move.
He grabbed a few more books and began walking back the same way he came. Past her. She was watching him again. She quickly turned away as she noticed him. As soon as he was near her, she took a step back. Bumping right into the handsome stranger, causing the floor to get littered with books on the works of the masters. Van Gogh, Picasso, Da Vinci, Dali. “I’m so sorry!” She apologized. Feigning embarrassment as she fell down to her knees to clean up the mess. She was playing her own game. Thinking she’d be the winner of this act. He couldn’t help but laugh to himself. I’ll let her be victorious, He thought, Just for this round.“No problem.” He bent down and helped her with the books.“Thanks” She smiled at him.
He returned it and repeated “It’s no problem.”
She started laughing.
“You’re probably going to think me a lunatic, but do you know a good place for bite? It’s my first night here.”She couldn’t have made this easier. This was going to be a breeze.
He smiled at her.
“It just so happens I’m new here myself.” He lied with a pretty grin on his lips.
We walked the now less crowded streets of this dark city. Her laugh was beautiful as she told me nonsense about her life. She had just left behind her small town home and came to this big city to try and make it, like every other deranged artist. I doubted she would have much of a chance after this night.
If it weren’t for my condition, she could have been my soul mate. She was more prefect than anyone else, almost as if she knew what exactly I wanted. The way she talked, the way she looked, the way she acted, all precise. My head was throbbing. The pain spiking. She continued to laugh. I had to get this over with as soon as possible before I went stark mad on the public streets.
“Rose,” I spoke her name “Would you mind maybe going to my apartment instead of out to eat? I’m a wonderful chef and have plenty of food in my fridge.”
Another lie. I couldn’t cook and I doubt I had any food in my refrigerator , I couldn’t remember the last time I ate. I had been living off pure coffee the past weeks. Food didn’t matter anyways, she wouldn’t be eating. As soon as my door was closed, she wouldn’t be leaving. She would be mine forever. Another pulchritudinous face to add to my collection.
Her heels clacked annoyingly up the stairs of my building. She continued to talk. I continued to fabricate myself a life. Saying some drivel about my childhood home and my mothers cooking. The rubbish most people thought about when looking back at their lives on their unholy deathbeds. Anything that would make me sound like the run of the mill guy. My key against the lock. The opening of the iron door. Excitement arose in me. It was happening. It was so close. I laughed.
“Welcome to my home, dear.”
My friends whispered to me to hasten this deal . They wanted her pain. Her fear. Her screams. I couldn’t deny them this sagacity. I fastened the locks securely, making sure she wouldn’t be able to leave if she tried. She probably won’t have time to try to leave, but one couldn’t be safe enough.
As I turned around I found her lying on my floor. Staring at the ceiling.
“This is your spot isn’t it Andrew?” She asked with a twisted smirk.
The name…. I had never told her my name. There was nothing in this flat that would have given away my identity.
She just lay there. Quiet. A delighted look on her face.
I wasn’t sure what to think. I was terrified. Petrified. Mortified. I couldn’t move.
“By the way, my love, as we walked up the stairs I shot you with a sedative. I’m not taking a chance of you leaving.”
My legs buckled. I fell. I heard her laugh. I was face down on the floor. I heard shuffling as she rose off the floor. I hadn’t felt anything as we had climbed the stair. All I had felt was her arm entwined with mine. “You know what, Dear Andrew?” She grabbed me and turned me around. “You are so divine. I’ve been madly in love with you.”
Who was this girl?
She settled beside and grasped onto my hand.
“I’ve been watching you.”
Watching me? What have gotten myself into, Who was she?!“I’ve been following you. Robert Walker. Alexander Gray. Jonothan Perry.”All the aliases I have used.
“I have studied you and all those girls you have murdered. You’re famous darling. Not in the real world of course, you’re just another lunatic in this world. In our world you are a star and look, here I am, with you.I’m so excited dear.”
Her other hand started playing with her hair.
“This was hard to achieve, you know. All that research I had to do on all those girls. I had to get my whole appearance just right. It was a lot of work, but I think it was worth it.”I begged my friends to help me but they didn’t speak to me. They were quiet. Undividedly.
“ I was shocked when I saw you. You’re handsomer than I was lead to believe. So much more delicious.”
Her lips grazed my hand and she gently pecked it.
“I admire you so much.”
This was too much. Is this what all those girls felt as they lay before their death?
I knew I was going to die. I guess this is what I deserved. My saviours have abandoned me and left me here to cease in life. An ironic justice. The Murderer being murdered.“ There’s no need to worry sweetheart. It won’t be painful.” She removed my blazer and unbuttoned my shirt. Her could hands lay upon my open flesh. “ Are you horrified? If I let you live would you be mine, would you learn to love me? “
She placed a blade against my chest. Another of her dazzling smiles.I felt it pierce my skin. A slight tingle erupted through out my body. The blade went deeper. The tingle turned to pain. She giggled and she bent down an licked some of the blood off.
She placed her lips on mine. Leaving a trace of my own blood on my bottom lip.The feel of steal upon my veins.
I closed my eyes. Goodbye world.
“I love you.” She whispered in my ear.The blade pressed into my neck. Deeper and deeper until darkness took over….
Give me the beats of your age.
More synth. More Slide.
Your provacative words. Your drug laced tongue.
Your hopelessness. Wasted labour.
Listen to the white noise pulsating from your speakers.
Your Watson, Mallinger, and Kirk.
Show me your modern society.
Show me your sado-masochism.
Your imagery. Your symbolism.
Let us see your Manson, your Crowley, your Darwin.
Tell me about your Goverment, corrupt businessmen.
Play your machinery.
Play your electronic percussion.
Listen to your Joy Division and your Velvet Underground.
Nietzsche and Voltaire are hero’s.
You’re an earcandy of this subculture.
You’re their anger, their pain, their lonliness.
You’re their power, their fear, their furry.
An escape to the misfits.
This is our industrial age.
The danger, the pain
I’m attracted to you.
I can’t even fathom why.
There’s nothing about you I really like,
I don’t find you pretty.
Your hair, your clothes, your dark frames.
I’m attracted to you.
Speak your gorey words,
bitter sweetness on your tongue,
engrossed by Death and Suffering.
I somehow found you fascinating
and I wanted more.
I should have known.
You tied me up, I thought this was fun.
You whisper “Don’t leave me,” and I’m suddenly scared.
and you stare
Getting kicks out of my fear.
Why was I attracted to you?
You decide that looking isn’t enough.
You need to touch me, feel me, hurt me….
His favourite possession was a silver blade.
It always amazes him when the light reflects off the tip,
He was entranced with its beauty.
He was entranced by mine.
He wanted it to never go away,
keep me forever young; forever his.
I felt that blade against my neck,
my heart racing faster,