My demented mind speaks
The man lies on the bed, pictures strewn about him haphazardly. Methodically he traces the lines, cutting away a face in each photo. The grin grows as he slams down a replacement on each. The revisionist bastard. A drag of a cigarette and a quick pound of coffee.
With a deep chuckle he flicks his lighter, red dancing and spinning on blue ice. The corner of the pictures curl onto themselves, crackling and spitting. Smacking his lips with a pained expression, he lifts himself off the pool of fire to watch as the flames lick their way along the carpet, a red and orange snake with an exploding green head of a stereo engulfed in flames snapping and weaving their way onto a pair of billowing blinds, which supernova into a plume of smoke with the stench of kerosene. He clutches a last frame firmly in his hand as he drowns in a muffled scream heard remotely over the gentle roar of the blaze. With one last thrust to escape the deluge, he collapses onto his side and watches as the flames continue to pulse along the wall, climbing higher and higher, as he falls deeper and deeper into a contented world of painful bliss. The smoke finally maneuvers it's way down his trachea, invading his lungs with a paralyzing sense of well being. He lies still, still smiling clutching, as the bed collapses around him.
Officer Grey Barr paces the hallway of the charred home, resolutely trying to purge the scene from his mind.
"Hey Grey, come here!" shouts another officer from the bedroom, and Barr reluctantly re-enters the room. Molten flesh rot invades his one open nostril, the other is filled with some sort of vomitish backwash from the pile of spew he'd left in the corner. The pile lives and thrives amidst the river Styx around him. Black as sin, every brick charred obsidian by a hurricane of flame, the room groaned at their presence. "Fucking tragedy" the officer comments, holding out a photograph, "but look what we found under the mattress."
Barr glanced again at the two bodies on the bed, eternally embraced. Fused together. "Bad way to go" the other officer commented cheerfully. Or good, depending on the judge, Barr thought to himself looking at the charred corpse of the man on top, which eerily grinned with its remaining speckles of flesh. He grabbed the picture.
"Let's finish up here" Barr replied, fighting off another chicken broth redux, tearing himself away from the morbidly arresting final session. "Candles on the bed, sex shouldn't be so interesting..." he muttered to the other officer, maneuvering around the wax pancakes left on the floor. As he marched back down the hallway plotting out the routine report he'd have to write, a shiver coarsed through his spine glancing at the picture for the first time.
In the picture the man sat grinning with a beautiful woman's body in his arms. The two headed monster stared up at him with all four eyes.
With a deep chuckle he flicks his lighter, red dancing and spinning on blue ice. The corner of the pictures curl onto themselves, crackling and spitting. Smacking his lips with a pained expression, he lifts himself off the pool of fire to watch as the flames lick their way along the carpet, a red and orange snake with an exploding green head of a stereo engulfed in flames snapping and weaving their way onto a pair of billowing blinds, which supernova into a plume of smoke with the stench of kerosene. He clutches a last frame firmly in his hand as he drowns in a muffled scream heard remotely over the gentle roar of the blaze. With one last thrust to escape the deluge, he collapses onto his side and watches as the flames continue to pulse along the wall, climbing higher and higher, as he falls deeper and deeper into a contented world of painful bliss. The smoke finally maneuvers it's way down his trachea, invading his lungs with a paralyzing sense of well being. He lies still, still smiling clutching, as the bed collapses around him.
Officer Grey Barr paces the hallway of the charred home, resolutely trying to purge the scene from his mind.
"Hey Grey, come here!" shouts another officer from the bedroom, and Barr reluctantly re-enters the room. Molten flesh rot invades his one open nostril, the other is filled with some sort of vomitish backwash from the pile of spew he'd left in the corner. The pile lives and thrives amidst the river Styx around him. Black as sin, every brick charred obsidian by a hurricane of flame, the room groaned at their presence. "Fucking tragedy" the officer comments, holding out a photograph, "but look what we found under the mattress."
Barr glanced again at the two bodies on the bed, eternally embraced. Fused together. "Bad way to go" the other officer commented cheerfully. Or good, depending on the judge, Barr thought to himself looking at the charred corpse of the man on top, which eerily grinned with its remaining speckles of flesh. He grabbed the picture.
"Let's finish up here" Barr replied, fighting off another chicken broth redux, tearing himself away from the morbidly arresting final session. "Candles on the bed, sex shouldn't be so interesting..." he muttered to the other officer, maneuvering around the wax pancakes left on the floor. As he marched back down the hallway plotting out the routine report he'd have to write, a shiver coarsed through his spine glancing at the picture for the first time.
In the picture the man sat grinning with a beautiful woman's body in his arms. The two headed monster stared up at him with all four eyes.